The Reality of Everything Flight & Glory Read online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Angst, Chick Lit, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Rebecca Yarros Advertisement

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I gripped under her arms and hoisted her from the truck, then began the long trek back into the house. By the time I reached the foyer, I was exhausted. My muscles shook with the effort it took to get Vivian to the couch, but I got her there.

Now to close the door.

“Juno!” Fin cried.

I turned, expecting to see the cat involved in something awful as usual, but Fin stared at me.

“She’s in the truck!” She sobbed. “I forgot her!”

“Okay,” I said, mostly to myself. “Okay.” I was not going to let her cat drown in a damned backpack.

I was more cautious this time crossing the rain-slick deck and made it to the truck as water crept up the rims. A quick glance behind me showed a canyon forming in the dune…and not just one. The ocean was coming.

I stepped into the truck and grabbed Juno, slinging her onto my back. Then I looked up. Will’s wings were still tacked to the visor, and my sea-glass pendant from Jackson dangled from the rearview mirror. I had time. I could get them.

The dune gave way behind me.

Wings or sea glass? There was only time for one. The water was coming.

Wings.

Sea glass.

Will.

Jackson.

I gripped the sea-glass pendant in my fist and yanked with all the strength I had in me, breaking the clasp on the chain. Then I lunged for the staircase.

Water soaked my shoes as it flowed through my stairs all the way to the third step, and I stumbled up a few steps higher to relative safety before I turned around.

The sea rushed into the cab through the open door, and I watched in horror as the truck rocked slowly toward the driver’s side. The next wave came—they were only seconds apart now—and swept the truck away with the torrent of water that now flew freely from the ocean.

“Good-bye, Will,” I whispered into the howling wind. Then I made my way up the stairs and into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me as the storm raged hungrily against the frame of the house.

“Juno!” Fin came rushing at me, and I slid the backpack down my arms and handed it to her.

She undid the top, and Juno scurried out and away with Finley trailing after her.

I took my cell phone from my pocket.

No bars. No service. The towers had to be down.

We made it, Jackson.

Then I collapsed against the wall of the foyer, just like I had the day Jackson told me he was deploying. How scared I’d been that I would bury him, when I’d just spent the better part of three hours taking every chance that he’d bury me.

I could have died and left it all unspoken—left him wondering how I really felt when I’d known along. Known and been too stubborn and scared to voice it. And for what? To protect my heart from the very pain I nearly caused him?

The house groaned as the ocean rushed beneath us. I’d rebuilt this house as I’d rebuilt my soul—strong enough to withstand the storm—but where I’d hurricane-proofed the frame so I could survive, I’d failed to rebuild my heart to live, and I desperately wanted to.

I wanted a life and a future.

I wanted kids and laughter and sleepless nights.

I wanted those things with Jackson.

I wanted Finley.

I wanted everything that came with loving both of them.

And the minute the cell service turned back on, I would tell him. I wouldn’t waste another day avoiding the things beyond my control, and instead I would grasp every chance at happiness that came along. I made my vow, held the sea-glass pendant to my forehead, then tucked Finley into my side and prayed we’d survive till morning.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Morgan

Was this how Noah felt the first time he cracked the door open on the ark? By noon the next day, the winds had died, the rain had ceased pummeling the windows, and I finally felt brave enough to raise the steel shutters.

I held my breath as the ocean came into view, still angry and white-capped.

“How bad is it?” Vivian asked as I opened the sliding glass door. The wind blustered, but it wasn’t a full-on assault.

“I’m about to find out.” I glanced from my cell phone, noting the lack of bars, to Finley, who sat at my dining room table, playing with my iPad.

The deck felt solid beneath my feet as I walked toward the railing, where my knees nearly gave out.

The dune was demolished.

So was Jackson’s house.

My hand flew to my mouth when I saw the devastation. The pilings had completely collapsed, taking Jackson’s house down to the sand. That must have been the thunderous crack in the middle of the storm. Half of his home had washed away, leaving the rest like an open-faced dollhouse that had seen a war.

My heart ached for what he’d lost.

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