He doesn’t seem fazed though. He just smiles, presses a kiss to my forehead, then grabs my hand. “Let’s go see if that’s true.”
We spend hours trekking through the hills, stopping frequently on the way while I take various shots. I’m amazed at the small waterfalls we come across and all the creeks running through the landscape. Knox was right. I had no idea what was right in my own backyard. So much beauty, and I hope I’m going to make my mom proud by capturing its essence.
I’m crouched down trying to frame a patch of wildflowers we found in the middle of a clearing when a bright flash of light cracks through the air, sending me to my ass. The impending boom that accompanies it comes far too close for comfort. With how dark the sky is, I’m sure it’s about to open up and pour.
“Shit,” Knox mutters. “Storm’s a-comin’.”
I’m frozen though.
Storm’s a-comin’.
Those were once my dad’s favorite words.
Words that became my nightmare.
“Amelia.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to cease the panic bubbling up inside me. It happens every time, without fail. My heart rate increases until it feels like the damn organ’s going to leap out of my chest, which also feels like it’s being weighed down by an anvil. The more I struggle for breath, the more my heart aches. The more my heart aches, the more I struggle for breath. It’s a vicious cycle that I’m still struggling to overcome.
“Amelia.” Knox’s hands gingerly slide up my arms until they’re resting on my shoulders where his thumbs rub soothing circles across my skin.
His touch is enough to lessen the panic, just the slightest bit.
My eyelids blink open and I catch his worried expression. “I’m scared.”
Understatement of the year.
Dark-brown eyes stare into my mine. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re gonna be fine. Do you trust me?”
“Knox…”
“Amelia, do you trust me?”
I nod. That’s all he needs.
Knox scoops me up and starts running, drawing me out of my daze. “Where are we going? We’re too far from the car!” I exclaim, knowing hyperventilation isn’t that far off.
“We passed a cave just a few minutes ago. We’ll wait it out there.”
It feels like an eternity before the cave comes into view. We’re both breathing heavily as Knox sets me on my feet, but he doesn’t let me know. He holds me close, stroking my wet hair and whispering encouraging words, telling me everything will be okay.
And hell. I believe him.
Once he’s convinced I won’t go screaming for the hills, he releases me and bends down to grab a bottle of water out of his pack, knocking back a swig before handing it to me. I take it, grateful for a chance to catch my breath, not that it’s helping my racing heart. But we’re out of the rain and, fingers crossed, out of immediate danger.
“This isn’t creepy at all,” I tell him, trying to make light of the situation. Trying like crazy to calm my racing heart.
From the mouth of the cave, I see another bolt of lightning, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Dammit. Why, why, why didn’t I check the weather report this morning?
With my eyes squeezed shut, I count. It does nothing to keep me from jumping when a thunderous boom crashes all around us.
Knox’s arms come around me and he takes us to the ground, settling me in his lap. I’m trembling, and he must feel it, too. His fingers skim my arms in a soft, soothing caress as he whispers to me. It’s comforting and almost embarrassing at the same time. I’m a grown woman afraid of thunderstorms.
“Shh. It’s okay, Amelia. I’ve got you. We’re safe in here.”
Lightning illuminates the cave once again, and I turn in his arms to meet his gaze, hoping he can distract me from the storm.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You must think I’m acting like a baby.”
His warm hand rubs my back in slow circles. “I don’t think you’re a baby. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. All I know is you’re scared, and I don’t know why.”
“I don’t do well in storms.”
Okay, maybe that’s the understatement of the year.
His eyes soften. “Melia, I was there that day. I know you don’t. You can tell me anything. Or nothing if that’s what you want. Just know I’m here for you if you ever wanna talk about whatever’s bothering you.”
For the first time in four years, I find myself wanting to open up. I want to tell him, and that both surprises and scares me. I don’t want to let Knox into that part of my life. I don’t want him to understand my grief. But even more, I don’t want to not let him in. And what’s the harm? I mean, it’s not like he’ll be around forever. Maybe that’s what makes this easier. I can be vulnerable with him, knowing he’s just a blip on the radar of my life.
“My parents died during a dangerous thunderstorm while we were in Crystal Cove for the summer. Four years ago. It’s why I haven’t been back since. It’s why…why I panicked that day we met.”
“Baby—”
I stop him. “I was with them. I was with them and I’m the only one who survived. How is that fair?”
“It’s not.” His thumb lifts my chin until our eyes meet. “It’s not fair that they’re gone and you’re left alone. But worse would’ve been you being gone and my not ever meeting you.”
“I shouldn’t say this, yet I’m going to anyway.” I pause, my heart racing. “For the past four years, I’ve only been existing. This summer? With you? I finally feel alive again.”
His eyes give nothing away and I wonder if I’ve said too much.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, either, but yeah, I’m with you. I can’t remember the last time I felt this—if I ever have.”
His words make my heart both soar and slump. I don’t know how to respond without going too far. What was supposed to be simple, insignificant, has turned into something more profound that I never expected.
Knox breaks the silence. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I don’t hesitate. I tell Knox about the super cell Dad and Mom were chasing that late July evening.
While my dad was a meteorologist, he wasn’t an expert storm chaser. He considered it more of a hobby, something he and Mom could do together. He’d get the exhilaration of the chase; she’d capture Mother Nature’s fury. A win-win for them both. For me, it was the best of both worlds.
The treacherous storm that day came out of nowhere, as they often do during the summer in Tennessee. One second, we were enjoying a family day at the beach; the next, our bodies were pelted in a torrential downpour. Dark clouds rolled in and lightning flashed off in the distance. We hightailed it to the family station wagon, where Dad asked Mom if the camera was in the car. Seeing as she rarely left the house without it, she reached into the back seat and held it up with a triumphant smile, one Dad returned. He flipped the radio on, turning the dial until a weather bulletin came over the speakers.
As soon as he heard the words “funnel cloud ten miles east of Crystal Cove,” we were off.
What happened next remains a blur. I’ve experienced it countless times in my nightmares, but the memory is never quite clear. It’s not vague enough to fade, either.