'A storm is brewin' babe

I ain't got time to sit and pray

Because this life don't come free

I got what's mine comin' to me'

9. 28 a.m. My legs were growing restless, my hands clammy, and my thoughts were spinning faster than the second hand of my watch.

I was even wondering if time had frozen, and yet, we hadn't entered the church.

It was a special day, and not because of the exceptionally hot weather, nor because of the celebration of Jesus's ascension. It was because of the Thorntons, and my mom's motto of 'no business talk in front of God's house' had apparently been forgotten the moment Mrs. Thornton had complimented her on her new dress.

Now, my dad was preaching an outstanding event over flyers, and my mom was confessing where she had bought the same hat as Jackie Kennedy, none of them seeming to care about the remaining seconds before the start of the mass and our seats that were surely already taken by Ms. Clorins. So why should I have?

I was better in the open to breathe, with the sun beating on my white cardigan and warming my skin, and a small pebble rolling under my Mary Jane shoes to occupy me, since I couldn't pull out my fidget toy. There was no reason for my impatience, and even less for the cold sweat forming down my spine.

"Dorothy, what a pleasure to see you. You look as lovely as a fresh flower."

Oh yes, maybe there was a reason for the shiver on my skin as I lifted my gaze to meet halfway the gaze trailing down my silhouette.

"Um, thank you... Douglas." I shifted from one foot to the other as his eyes finished their route down my pink dress, and I questioned if it was really a compliment.

It wasn't warming my cheeks, and if my blood was fusing inside, it was because I was tired of being compared to fragile things: princess, chick, flower... It wasn't me. Though a quick glance to my right closed the internal dilemma; I had to be flattered, and my mom was closely ensuring that I was, while still talking about the latest trends.

So I put on my best smile like she'd taught me, and I hoped my eyes didn't show my reluctance when he held out his hand.

"I heard you're coming with your parents to lunch. I'm glad we'll finally get some time to know each other better."

The invitation at the Thorntons', another reason why this day would be endless.

However, even if Douglas's words along with his kiss of the hand sent a chill down my spine, it wasn't what froze me.

I was paralyzed, to the point that the ticking inside stopped, when someone cleared their throat near, and I caught the silhouette in a black leather jacket peeking from behind a side pillar of the church.

This was the real reason behind my boiling thoughts and freezing dread, and all the agitation it created in my insides.

Of course, I took in instantly that the figure wasn't tall enough, and it wasn't Blade, or I would have felt the burning sparks on my skin, while here, there were only more shivers down my spine when the man coughed again. 

Clearly, it wasn't because of the smoke of his cigarette. He was trying to catch someone's attention, my attention, as he was on my left, about 15 feet away, and he kept peering in my direction.

He had it, all my attention, and I didn't hear one of Douglas's words. He could have been monologuing about our future 'collaboration' at the town hall, and I still nodded anyway. At least, I was following some of Daisy's advice, even if my side glances may not have been discreet and polite as I tried to check if the guy had a hole in his collar.

Why was I even losing time? It was obvious he wasn't here for the mass, and he was from Blade's gang. Thus, if he'd come all the way here, it had to be important, serious, and special. It wasn't about the Thorntons, the Ascension day, or even the heatwave coming. It was the drug delivery that was making this day special and made me feverish.

It was the most important drug delivery of the year. It was a lot of money and a lot of 'dope', and if it turned bad...

I could still hear Rye's taunting words from last night, along with Pete's haunting whisper, and added to all the what-ifs, it became a terrifying rumbling.

I had to make sure Blade was fine. It was my priority as I took a breath, ready to once more break the ladylike rules and get my mom's sermon afterward.

"Excuse me, I have someone to talk to. Some business affair, I won't bother your pretty head with. I'll see you later." Douglas forestalled me, making me close my open mouth as he excused himself to my mom too, and I would have almost jumped at his neck for avoiding me her sermon – almost because it didn't erase the rush to run that his gaze was creating in my legs, and anyway, I was already walking towards the pillar, my gait growing more determined with each step and people crossed.

They were all heading to the door as it was finally 9.30 a.m., and the typical bell was resonating. Yet it didn't stop me.

I just needed one second and three words, and I was almost reaching the side street and the pillar.

"Dorothy."

Almost, once more, as I almost bumped into a figure walking with as much determination as I was, and I had no way to sidestep him as he stood in front of the pillar, and his brown eyes were trapping me.

"How are you?" 

These weren't the three words I needed, and I was sure Spencer had more clue about the answer than I did as his gaze slid from my large aghast eyes to my twisting fingers and up to my opening lips.

"I don't have time." I glanced at the pillar, catching no hint of black leather behind the ivory stone.

But he was surely waiting in the corner, as I could still smell a hint of herbal tobacco mixing with Spencer's fresh perfume.

"Just one second. I wanted to know if you've read the letter?"

My heart crashed so hard against my ribcage that it overpowered the rumbling in my guts, and with the flashbacks of yesterday rushing with every strong beat, I was getting lost... the letter, the pancakes, the promise to tell the truth to my parents, the almost-kiss, and Spencer's eyes, which were still in front of me, the same luminous shades now shadowed by a frown.

"No, I..." Before I could dive into his gaze, something caught my eye over his shoulder, and as it stopped my heart, the rumbling resumed louder.

"Did you think about it a little?"

I shook my head, as my thoughts were currently going everywhere, and mostly, to the unmistakable silhouette sneaking discreetly in the side street.

I could recognize this burgundy tailor-made suit, which wasn't made to disappear into the shadows, and even less to meddle with men in leather jackets, and before my spinning thoughts could find a plausible explanation for what looked like a hallucination, the rising voice annihilated them.

"Why are you telling me this?!"

There was no possible mistake when I'd just heard this voice seconds ago, although there was no sugarcoating here, and it sent the shivers deeper into my bones.

The gang member wasn't calling my attention, but Douglas Thornton's. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, and I still had trouble believing it as I glimpsed the black leather peeking from behind the pillar, an arm lifting in the air in a frustrated gesture. Yet it became too real when Douglas continued,

"It's not my problem. Call the fucking police!"

The curse may have made my eyes widen, but it was with the word 'police' that they bulged out, ready to jump and find out what was happening behind the pillar.

Who would have thought my hair would stand on end at the word 'police'? It was even more ironic as I was talking to Spencer.

Though in this instant, I didn't find any humor as Douglas's voice went back to a hushed whisper, and it was Spencer's smooth words that took over.

"Anyway, I have something to show you today. Are you free..." There was an urgency in his tone, like the importance was hanging on a fine thread, which depended on my answer.

Yet I couldn't focus with the hushed whispers near and this screaming instinct inside.

"Can we talk–"

"After the mass?" We both finished at the same time, our gazes meeting for a second long enough for me to see his lighting up with the hope that we were still in sync.

As for me, I had no idea about what my reaction would have been if another familiar voice hadn't added to the brouhaha.

"Dorothea, it's not the time to talk." My mom, who had apparently finished her chat, pulled me by the arm, and with all the forces tugging and clashing inside, she was winning easily, my frozen body following her.

"But I..." I threw a glance over my shoulder to watch Spencer following closely and Douglas walking out from behind the pillar and smoothing his jacket.

"No 'but', we're already late," she whispered with a 'tsk' at the end that silenced my protest more than the first notes of the organ, and all matters were closed with the two heavy doors shutting down on us, my mom, me, Spencer, and Douglas, everyone, except the guy in leather jacket.

Things were returning to normal, although we didn't have our seats in the front row, and we took our places where my dad was already seated, next to the Thorntons. For me, it changed everything, and not because I was beside Douglas, as luckily, he went next to his dad, on the other end of the bench.

I could see Spencer and his dad in front of us, and Rachel and her parents on the other side of the aisle. Everything was from another perspective, from the curls at the nape of Spencer's neck, which I noticed had grown longer, to the contrast between the natural light coming from the stained-glass window behind the altar, and the artificial lighting all around. Even the pastor appeared smaller, his words barely reaching me through the storm of my mind.

Maybe that was the real difference: inside me. My eyes kept sliding back and forth between the Callums, Spencer and his dad, and Douglas, who also appeared distracted, whispering at his dad's ear, and my thoughts were following the same journey, except that they ended on Blade, and what he might have been doing in this instant.

9. 40 a.m., he must have been by the Callum's property, waiting for the drug cargo. But what if the police found him?

'Call the fucking police', I could still hear Douglas's whisper. It could have been about anything. Yet he'd said it to a man who looked straight out of the East side, just the morning of Blade's drug delivery.

While the pastor was preaching listening to God's voice, I was trying to find a logical explanation through the cacophony of my thoughts, and the voice appearing in the back of my mind was more familiar, though as precious for me. 'Coincidences are just proofs waiting for journalists to find them.'

I wished Grandpa could have been here. He would have put light through the thick clouds of my mind. But I didn't have his wisdom and acute brain, not even his calm.

I only had my shitty instincts, boiling and shaking with shivers that I couldn't control, and in my insides, it resembled the sensations of a storm brewing.

However, when I looked up, the sun was still shining through the stained-glass window, and I resigned myself to the only thing I could do: praying.

While everyone was singing the Gloria, I was praying for a sinner.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Blade and his evil genie powers. He was the best criminal. But it was the others I didn't trust: that guy who had been hiding in the shadows, Douglas and his spine-chilling gaze, and myself, as it was my plan.

I was just finishing with my 'amen' when the church doors opened, and if, with the music still playing, it barely added basses, for me, it echoed like thunder.

Could my prayer have already been answered? If so, it was fast, and I would be forever grateful.

Yet I was scared to open my eyes as my heart followed the pace of steps on the tile floor, and when they slowed down near, it did too, before stopping completely when I risked an eye open.

It wasn't the pair of black man shoes that froze me, but the blue I caught as my gaze slowly traveled up, a dark blue that rarely bore good news.

Why was it coming to me?

When my eyes finally reached the policeman's face, too many dreadful suppositions had already formed in my mind. But I realized it wasn't for me, once more, and that the reality wasn't better.

"Raymond," the thin middle-aged man called quietly – or at least, that was what I guessed on his lips and gaze, as the chorus of all the voices around was engulfing his – and Raymond was so carried away by the music that Spencer had to shake his arm to make him notice his colleague.

Though as soon as his gaze fell on the man, the easiness on his features crashed with it, and my stomach followed.

'Emergency' and 'station', these were the only words I guessed, and they were too much and too little. I tried to lean closer, but it did nothing, and I thanked god when the song was finished, and I could hear them clearly; even the pastor could as Raymond threw him a sorry smile before continuing lower,

"What's the emergency?"

Luckily, with Spencer standing between them, their whispers were still loud enough to reach me in spite of the deafening banging of my heart.

"I don't know exactly. There was a call, but it was cut down."

I stopped breathing because my breath was caught, but also to try to hear the rest when the rumbling in my insides was growing louder, and it really resembled the warnings of a storm. My stomach was twisting, and my skin was buzzing as every sensation was heightened, especially the cold sweat in my back.

It could have been about anything, but I knew deep inside my guts that something bad was coming.

"They said there was something suspect, and we needed to come in numbers. But we're only two at the station, and one always has to stay there in case."

The man's rushed whisper, Raymond's solemn composure, and in-between Spencer's tensions as he was too used to what was coming, all their emotions were reaching my hyper-aware nerves and adding to the storm, and I still wasn't breathing.

"Where?"

"On Levy lane."

Here was the lightning; I could feel the electric burn traveling in all my nerves with those three words. Levy lane was next to the Callum's farm.

There was no coincidence. I just had to find the proof, but for now, there were more urgent clouds when Raymond replied,

"Okay, I'll go. Gather the others here, and meet me there."

Of course, most of the town was at the mass, including the policemen. I could still hear myself explaining proudly to Blade. I hadn't thought that they could all go straight there with a command, and Raymond's colleague was already heading towards another bench to call someone else, while Raymond gathered his things.

"I should be back before the end, but otherwise, ask the Duncans to drive you. I'll take the car."

Raymond wouldn't be back before the end of the mass. It would be a long affair. If I had any doubt, the way Spencer lifted his head to the cross on the altar before coming down annihilated them, and I knew it in my guts.

Raymond would find Blade and the drug cargo. In the best case, Blade would lose his gang leader offer; in the worst, he ended up alone in a cell, and yet, the blood I'd wiped last night added more what-ifs. They were all taking off with Raymond who slid out of the bench, while I was still frozen, my hands clutched together in the same prayer position.

I was praying for the police to arrive too late and the criminals to get away. I was praying that Blade would be safe and free like all those times before.

After all, it was his job, his routine, and he was the best at it. It wasn't his first illegal activity. But it was the first I witnessed.

I was here now. Shaking and breathless, exactly like last night, yet it still had made a three inches difference, and it could today too. It wouldn't be by staying here, paralyzed and praying, though.

With the storm raging in me, clouding my thoughts, and washing over every part of me, I couldn't stay still, and I was already turning to my mom.

I had no idea where I was going with this, but when I glimpsed the satisfaction at the corner of Douglas's hidden smile, I knew my destination. Levy lane, my heart was already running there, and my words were trying to follow.

"My stomach hurts. I have to go to the bathroom."

I didn't wait for my mom's reply, standing up and throwing just one last glance at Douglas's gaze that was following the policeman around the church more than the pastor's speech, while I rushed out of the church on the sentence 'we always have a choice.'

It still echoed inside my chest as the bright sun dazzled me. I had a choice: I could still go back inside. Yet I didn't have the most important: a plan, as Raymond was already climbing inside his car on the other side of the street.

I couldn't stop him anymore, and I was left with nothing but my storming instincts, and this choice: find an impossible way to warn Blade or go back inside and pray. Both needed miracles.

However, my choice was made when I ran down the few steps of the church, and as my gaze landed on a single bicycle leaning against a pillar, I took it as my miracle.

By car, Raymond would have to take detours with all the no-way streets and slow traffic, while I could go straight to the farm, and if I was fast, it was possible, and tight. But sometimes, three inches, three seconds made all the difference. That was what I told myself as I climbed on the bike, reminding my conscience and the big man above that I just was borrowing and I would be back before the end of the mass.

Yet I was stopped before I could move one inch, as much literally, as two strong arms grabbed the handlebar, as figuratively, when my whole body froze in terror.

"Dorothy." The familiar voice restarted my heart in an uneven rhythm as if hesitating between racing with the relief that it was Spencer and crumbling down because it was Spencer.

Anyway, I still wasn't moving as his strong figure was in front of my bike, his legs on each side of the front wheel.

"Let me go. I don't have time." I lifted my gaze to meet his, showing him my tempestuous determination. Yet I hadn't expected it would clash with clouds as dark in his brown eyes.

"And where are you going? Levy lane?"

How could he know when I wasn't sure myself? I didn't try to understand, just narrowing my eyes until he could only see the flashing rage through them.

"It's none of your business."

"It's for that criminal?" It didn't even sound like a question, and the only hint of interrogation was in the slight twitch of his eyebrows.

"Blade is more than that. He doesn't deserve to be arrested!" The contrast of my rising voice with his low groan made something waver in his gaze – unless it was just my words? – and I took the opportunity to try to push him away with the handlebar.

Yet his grip was stronger than before, making me almost lose my balance, while he didn't flinch.

"You do realize it's breaking the law to prevent the police from doing their job?"

I did, and even more with the heaviness of his words setting in my bones.

"I do, but it's my choice." I pushed on the pedal with renewed strength, more to prove my words than anything else, as nothing seemed to work, not even my seething 'move!', nor my unwavering determination.

Inside, the seconds were ticking faster and faster, and I was back to a few minutes before the mass, with the same powerlessness and storm raging inside, except that now, I knew what the bad thing was, and it was closer and closer with each beat of my heart and each split-second. 

"It's not like I'll hurt anyone. But if I don't go, the consequences will be more serious..." Here, my inflexible assurance was wavering with cracks, and I could feel my promise would follow if I didn't quickly find a way. The promise to myself that I would be here for Blade.

"Please, I'll do anything you want." I closed my eyes, which were burning with a tide of tears, on this last argument.

It was over. My breath was blown away, and my body was shaking so much that the bike was barely keeping balance.

My eyes snapped open upon that thought, and I realized Spencer had stepped out.

What would he ask in exchange? That would be a question for later, as my muscles moved faster than lightning, and my heart followed like thunder, my gaze trailing behind to catch Spencer looking around before lifting his head to the sky when he realized there was no other bicycle.

I could feel the weight of his worry and disappointment following me as I turned at the end of the street, and with every turn, more added on my small shoulders: Pete's hope, my parents' future sermon, my lies, and mostly, Blade's future. Strangely, all of these didn't slow me down, on the contrary.

I'd never ridden as fast, the side streets and dirt roads passing in a blur that I distinguished just enough to be sure I was on the right way. Though it was an endless blur that left too much time for the dreadful what-ifs to form in my mind, especially when I reached the last part: a long straight line of dirt road with only fields around, and in the end, the crossroad that led to Levy lane.

It was like glimpsing the finish line, but I didn't know where my opponents were, nor my prize, and the silence around was the calm before the storm.

I told myself that with my thundering heart and blustery emotions, I was the tornado, and I would crash on Blade to save him like the shooting star I was. I tried to picture myself rushing in his arms, and we would get away on his motorbike, and everything would be fine with a happy ending.

But it wasn't the reality around, and the blue I caught sight of in the distance was not the crystalline I wished.

With it, the daydreams crumbled down, replaced by the scary what-ifs, where this car was taking Blade away, and the handcuffs around his tattooed wrists would be my last sight of him. It was only one of the dreaded possibilities, and more flashed like lightning before my eyes. That was the real storm, even if my tears came out like torrential rain, and my movements stopped, as it was useless.

I'd seen it. There was no other car passing on the road there, and I knew this blue car as it was parked every day in the driveway next to ours. It was Raymond's, and he would reach Blade before me. I may have been closer as the crow flies, but it was impossible to ride my bicycle in the field of cows on my right, and running wouldn't be fast enough. Even if I was faster than ever, I would only arrive in time to see Blade getting arrested.

I couldn't see this. I couldn't not see him anymore either.

As the strength was leaving my muscles, the searing effort I'd made catching up with me like the hopelessness, one muscle was still pumping energy through my body and hope through my brain.

Three inches, three seconds could change everything. I still had them, and I would hold on to them like last night.

"Think like a criminal," I whispered, trying to summon my evil genie powers, and I blinked my eyes furiously to dispel the what-ifs that could become reality in a matter of second, but also to take in my surroundings like a criminal, my hand gripping the handlebar like a weapon, and my tears-filled eyes narrowing.

I didn't know by which miracle I could see anything, but when my gaze landed on a cow, it was all I needed.

I couldn't reach Blade on a cow's back, of course. But if I couldn't warn him, I had to stop Raymond.

I didn't take one more second to think about my plan; it was my only one, and I rushed to open the fence with my shaky hands. I didn't even take one breath either before whistling.

One whistle blow, the cows moved. Two, their bells echoed louder than their mooing. Three, they would run.

All those afternoons spent in the fields with Spencer served as something else than torturing reminders afterward. At least, he hadn't lied when describing his tasks at the farm, and I didn't regret my curiosity and stubbornness that had led me to learn how to position my fingers on my lips for the sound to echo loudly.

My curiosity, my stubbornness, my recklessness, and all my other flaws, maybe they were qualities to be a great criminal. It wasn't as far as swelling, but my chest loosened slightly with pride, enough for me to breathe.

I just had to pray that the cows would stop the traffic in time, or at least, warn Blade of something abnormal, and I also climbed back on my bike to go there.

I hadn't said my last words... not yet, a crunch on the dirt road seemed to add those words as I slowly turned behind me.

A criminal always paid attention to all the details, but I had overlooked one in the tempest. A detail just a few meters away, two furious dark eyes, flaring nostrils, about 2,000 pounds, and two sharp horns.

My whistling had been heard, catching the attention of this large bull, and there was nothing else in all the green around to divert it from my pink dress and red curls.

That was bad; I didn't even need the twist of my guts to know it as it kept stamping the ground with his front hoof.

Well, now, I had a motivation ahead and one behind as I restarted pedaling as fast as before.

I pictured more than ever an impossible happy ending where Blade took me away on his motorcycle, and nothing could reach us. But it appeared farther and farther like the crossroad in the distance, while the reality was the bull closer and closer.

With its seething breaths, I realized how each of my erratic ones was burning my lungs. Between the echo of hooves on the ground, I could hear the bangs of my heart, and I didn't dare to glance behind when each pedal stroke felt heavier in my legs.

I was almost to the crossroad, and all these sensations were speeding up as there was just a small bump separating me from the main road.

This time, I didn't cry victory too early, only focusing on my movements to avoid another fall of hope. Yet there was still a crash when my front wheel passed the bump. Well, it didn't pass, as it twisted on it, and with the speed, there was nothing I could do to keep control.

It was heading straight for the fence, my body following it, before I could brake or turn the handlebar, and I didn't even get to blink that I was already plowing into the barbwire, the little spikes of metal tearing the skin on the side of my arm.

Though the sharp searing appeared like nothing when my wide eyes took in the bike, or what remained of twisted metal after hitting a large stake. I wouldn't be able to return it after the mass, except maybe for the front wheel, slowly continuing its way along the side of the road.

However, it wasn't my only problem, and as much as I tried to avoid it, the heavy breaths coming from the other side made me face the inevitable: the bull that had stopped closer than before and angrier.

My gaze ran everywhere around while I didn't move of an inch, in the hope of losing its attention, and also because I was frozen. Yet I didn't see any escape this time.

Without the bike, the bull was faster than me, and it wouldn't be the half-smashed fence that would stop him. As for calling help, I wasn't sure it would be the best when my panicked sobs were already making him stamp his hoof faster.

I had no choice left. I could only close my eyes and pray, even if I doubted someone would care.

I'd brought this upon myself, with my stubbornness, my recklessness, and my shitty instincts. I'd gone against the law, against what was right, and against Spencer's warnings, and for what? I didn't even know if it would be enough to help Blade. I would never see it.

I realized I hadn't even started praying for myself when the sound of hooves echoed closer and closer, and instead, I let my mind drift to all the things I would never see, all the wishes for freedom that would never realize.

Another cliffhanger 😬🙈 Please don't hate me, and remember that she still hasn't used her gun, so the story isn't ending anytime soon. Now, we just gotta pray someone save her 😉

Also, tell me what you think about this encounter with Douglas... Suspicious, isn't it? 🤔 And do you think the emergency has to do with Blade and his delivery?

I want to hear all your crazy suppositions! I love to read them! 😉

And don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked this chapter and want more!