Page 43 of The Final Storm
It’s not real.
Unclenching my fists, I reach for the doorknob. I can feel it, I can touch it, but I can’t turn it. My fingernails scratch at the door, looking for another way inside. Leaning my body against the wood, I let myself see the inside of my old home until I’m falling forward, my hands slapping on the floor in front of me.
The fall knocks the air from my lungs, and I bang my chin on the wood when I land. “Fuck,” I groan when I’m able to lift my head. I’m inside the house.
That fall felt real.
Voices carry down the hall, clearer now that I’m inside. I scramble to my knees and look back at the door behind me where my feet stick out the other side.
Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.
I hear my brother-in-law speaking, and I get to my feet. He’s not as calm and controlled as Dean, but that’s common in a conversation with him. Dean dominates every interaction with terrifying ease. It’s a skill he’s had from birth, and I curse myself again for not seeing it sooner.
“I’ve been thinking about it. Yes,” my brother-in-law says. “I’ll admit that, but Morgan will never agree.”
“I didn’t know your wife was the head of your family,” Dean mocks. “News to me.”
“Don’t speak to me about family. Rowan is not your family.”
“Rowan and I will always be family. She will always be mine.” Dean’s glare cuts through the room, making me instinctively step back. Not that I could exit if I wanted. Just like my visions that flash pictures in my mind, I can’t control this dream, or whatever I’m experiencing. I’m a passenger watching the movie of my life.
The characters fucking suck.
I shudder at his words, swallow hard, and take a few more steps forward, reminding myself he can’t see me. He’s not talking to me, but about me. I don’t know what this is, but it’s done. Some of it is dead and buried.
My brother-in-law spits his dip into a cup. I grimace at the sight of him. That man always looked sweaty, even in the dead of winter. Life must have been too much of an exertion for him, or he was always nervous we would find out what a sack of shit he was. “My sister was too good for you,” I tell the ghost of the man I killed. “You deserved it.” I’m not disappointed he can’t hear me, only that I have to look at his face again.
“Why don’t you join if you believe so strongly?” My brother-in-law says.
“Who says I haven’t already?” Dean bites back. “But that’s something we should keep here, between us. It doesn’t leave this room.”
I make my way next to them, and I stand in the dining room close enough to touch their faces. I hear my footsteps overhead and the wind outside beating at the windows. My salt and pepper shakers, shaped like cats, sit at the table in between them. When did BeLew break the one? Was it when they were two or three?
“I have to go,” Dean says, knocking twice on the table. The cats vibrate from his fist. “I ship out tomorrow. I’ll be gone for several months. Keep an eye on Rowan for me. You message me and let me know what you decide to do, but whatever it is, keep it to yourself and in your family. We don’t need to scare people or make them nervous. But I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure things are fine.”
My brother-in-law scoffs. “You’re ridiculous. I don’t know why you want to burden yourself with that - with her.” He points to the roof where I’m working.
Dean yanks a chair out from the table and sits in front of my brother-in-law. He kicks one leg up over his knee and cocks his head to the side. “I’ve been doing it all my life. I take care of her and she does me. I’m committed to her. Maybe you don’t understand that kind of relationship, the dedication it takes.”
I remember what Dean told me on the Thalassa right before he tried to kill Sam.
“You know what true love is? It’s dedication.”
Dean doesn’t admit weakness, and to need someone, to love them… that’s weakness. I swallow hard and ignore the fears that rise to the surface. I don’t know how long Dean’s dedication might last.
I’m scared to know.
“I think this is a mistake.” My brother-in-law scratches his stubble, lowering his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I think you’re playing games with me.”
“I think I’m the reason this farm is still running, but do what you want. You know where I am.”
Dean gets up and when he brushes by me it’s almost like he walks through my shoulder, and I can smell him - I can feel him. The dread that shoots into my gut is real, and I whip around and watch him head for the door. His familiar stride, walking confidently, knowing he won the battle that my brother-in-law didn’t even realize he was fighting.
“I mean it when I say keep an eye on Rowan. She’s mine,” Dean repeats. “Another man comes around, and you run him off. Anything happens to her, and I’ll be looking for you.”
Dean opens the door and takes a step through, just as the coward says, “Wait!”
Don’t you do it, you asshole.
