Kansas (Ruthless Kings MC Atlantic City #2) - K.L. Savage Page 0,12
an ankle? “I had fun at bingo,” I add, remembering the hard-earned cash in my pocket.
“You aren’t going to want to come next Friday. People hold grudges. They need space.”
I stuff my hands in my coat pocket and kick another mound of snow. I have a habit of doing that. I can’t help it. It’s just there, looking so… kickable.
“I feel like I’m getting dumped.”
“Just give the bingo hall some time. They’ll come around.” Homer stomps his boots when we get inside the breezeway, knocking the snow off from each one.
I do the same and chuckle. “Whatever you say, Homer.” I head inside the main room, Homer hot on my heels, and the heater blasts me in the face. The tip of my nose defrosts, and I shuck off my coat, hanging it on my given hook on the wall. Each hook has our names above it, which was Scarlett’s idea.
It’s home. She’s made it feel like home for all of us. And the teddy bear she placed in each of our rooms wearing leather jackets? Each individual one has our names hand-sewn on the front left side. I keep the bear on top of my dresser so I can see it every day. I love that damn thing. Other than my Mom, I’ve never met another woman so selfless.
I bypass everyone and head toward the bathroom, check my hair, and put on some extra deodorant before I go see the woman from the boat.
I don’t know what it is about her, but she makes me want to be better.
Just looking at her, she makes me want to be Amos again.
And as much as that scares me, I welcome it. Because I turned into the one thing I hated most: Kansas.
Waves crash against the side of the sailboat, rocking it violently. The snow whips across my face, stinging my eyes and cheeks. It’s freezing, and the storm is stronger than Dad anticipated. My hair is wet, and my clothes are sticking to my body from the waves crashing over us.
“Dad! We have to turn around,” I yell over the roar of the ocean and the hiss of the snow bulleting against the sailboat. “The storm is only going to get worse!”
I hope he can hear me over the howl of the wind. I scream when the halyard, the rope that pulls up the mainsail, snaps. The sailboat groans and takes a sharp turn right into a strong wave. I have to hold my breath as we wade through the water.
The sailboat manages to make it out of the wave, drenching us in freezing water. Ice has started to form on the rails. The temperature is dropping. My teeth chatter as I hold onto the rail. I’m hunched over, staring off into the gray abyss of the sea. The clouds get darker, rolling together to form a mass of fury. Thunder rolls above, rolling with the same tenacity as the ocean.
I’ve heard of thundersnow. People don’t think it’s a real thing, but it is. It’s just like a rainstorm, only instead of rain, it’s a downpour of snow and thunder, sometimes lightning.
“Mom!” I cry out for her as I watch her stagger across the boat to get to me.
“Get in the cabin with your sisters right now!” she yells, her hip slamming against the side of the boat when it rocks again. We are going to keep going in circles since one of the sails isn’t working now.
I shake my head, then wipe my hand down my face to clear the snow from my lashes. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You need to be with your sisters—”
She’s silenced by a strike of lightning that hits the mast. A giant crack spreads down the beam. And then it snaps in half at the same time the boat dips.
Water crashes against our feet and the mast swings, threatening to hit us. We dive to the floor. Mom looks over my shoulder to check on Dad behind the helm. We hold onto each other’s hands, her skin as cold as the snow in the air. She has a deep cut on her forehead that’s bleeding red drops down her face.
“Please,” she begs, squeezing my hand. “Go to your sisters. Make sure they have their life vests on.” She raises her voice so I can hear her over the cacophony of waves. Her blonde hair sticks to her face, hanging in thick curly strands.