Page 3 of Anchored to the Storm

Maybe Grandpa has been up to more than I thought.

Reluctant to leave the spot, I glanced over my shoulder. If Saleeni required time to recover, I needed to give it to her. It was the only reason why, soaked and shivering in wet clothes, I followed Styx.

Stiff and chilled in clinging denim, I jogged in a slightly uncoordinated fashion until I was reached a studio apartment that had once been a small store. But instead of clothing racks, the room was set up with a bed, nightstands with lamps, a TV on the wall, a tall dresser, and a couch for two.

Styx was at the opposite side of the room, at another door, facing me and saying, “Lock that one.” As I shut the door behind me, I realized it was made of steel.

Styx instructed, “The code is zero-four-nine-nine.”

Nine… I thought of Talulah while I inserted the code and heard a deadbolt lock into place.

Tallulah was my high school girlfriend until she left for college, and Nine was her nickname for me since I didn’t have a full set of ten fingers. Even after she left and we broke up, she was the one I turned to. Called for advice. She was… gifted. Sexy Tallulah could always read me as if she wrote the book titled Johnny Watts: my alias name.

I eyed the phone on a nightstand, wanting to reach out to her. She could always handle⁠—

“No-can-do, silly rabbit. Phones are not for those being hunted.” He pointed over my left shoulder, so I peered behind me. “That used to be a storefront window, but I made it smaller with blocks, of course. And inserted a bulletproof window.”

Having been on the run for so many years, limitations were nothing new. Bulletproof windows, however, were. Tallulah. I eyed the phone again while telling Styx, “Ain’t got no one to call, anyways.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He was right. I was lying. Not only did I have Tallulah, but I also had a whole little family of friends I wanted to reach out to. My fellow fosters—Sarah, Ethan, Gage, Sebastian, and Finn. I even wanted to hear from Dale and Harmony, our foster parents, just a quick clip of their voices. Sadly, there was no way to reach out to Caleb or Baby Blue. Both had been lost.

I grabbed my chest at the thought of all I’d recently experienced with the Misfits—what Tallulah called us. Will I ever see any of them again?

Styx said, “For now, this is your room.” He walked to his left, his voice soon echoing. “Here’s your bathroom.” I heard a cabinet door close. When he returned, he had two white towels. After tossing me one over the bed, he began rustling his hair with the other towel while blindly motioning to a floor-to-ceiling wall cabinet. “There’s for you to store your shit in.”

With a towel hanging in my four-digit hand, I stood there, motionless. Here I was, once again, with a different bed, a different room, and a different home to get acquainted with. And I had just turned eighteen. It was… exhausting. Even though my dad had walked these grounds under my feet, I felt so far away from him. So far from everyone. All I had left was Gramps and… her. That’s why I numbly turned around, facing the door I had just locked.

“Maddox, you can see her when she’s ready.”

What right did he have to dictate shit to me? Peering over my shoulder, my upper lip lifted in a snarl. If Styx thought he could order me around, he had better step the fuck back. I could handle myself.

He shook his head. “Ease up. I’m saying that for both your benefits.”

Anything benefiting her was my main priority. Hence, my shoulders caved as my head fell forward and leaned against the door. “How will I know when she’s ready?”

I was desperate for the grounded feeling she offered when nearby. I needed not to feel so… lost. Or on another runaway train. With no brakes to stop. No seatbelt. Only an insane locomotive engineer as my guide.

Speaking of which, I whirled around and faced him, hearing clink, clink, clink, causing me to wonder what the fuck Gramps was up to now.

Styx was digging in a little side fridge in my room. He held up a beer bottle. “Want one?”

Drained beyond belief, I mumbled, “I don’t drink.”

Grandpa gasped in glee, then collected every beer into his arms. “More for me!” He left the room without a backward glance.

I peered up at the ceiling, speaking to the precious one in Heaven. “Really, Noma? This joker?”

I couldn’t recall ever meeting my maternal grandpa she once loved, but somehow, she ended up having ‘relations’ with this grandpa also. Her being such a pillar in my life, such an ultimately wise soul, I was stumped by how she fell for this clown who thought bleach and wipes were the answer after every murder he was involved in.

Just then, still embracing beers, Styx reappeared in the doorway. A proud smirk on his face. “I have a TV dinner with your name all over it.”

I already miss your food, Harmony. I forced my feet to move around the bed and toward him. Rudely replying, “Nuked cancer food? Sign me up.”

“Pfft! You’re in love with a mermaid and think a microwave is a problem?”