Chapter 177: Jake
The patch job on the window isn’t perfect — not even close — but it’ll hold for now. I duct-taped a plastic sheet over the broken pane, tucked a towel at the base, and prayed to whoever’s out there that no more wind kicks up overnight.
We'll get someone in to fix it properly once the roads clear. But until then, this house is a goddamn icebox.
“It's too cold to sleep here,” I say, standing back and brushing dust off my hands. “We’ll have everyone at ours tonight. It's safer.”
Liam nods, zipping up a duffel. “Yeah, no kidding. My fingers still feel like icicles.”
He’s packing for himself and Finn — sweaters, socks, toothbrushes. Charlie’s doing the same beside him, tossing in clothes for herself, Sloane, and Madeline. She keeps pausing like she’s running through a mental checklist, then swearing under her breath and grabbing something else.
I grab the blankets they piled near the door — a whole armful — and Liam calls out, “Hey, do you guys have board games at your place?”
I glance over. “No.”
He tosses Monopoly and another game into his bag like it’s sacred cargo. “Then I’m bringing some. We’ll need entertainment tonight.”
I give him a long stare. “We’re not playing Monopoly.”
Charlie snorts.
“Come ooon,” Liam grins. “You’ve been more fun this season than ever before. I bet you'd kill it in Monopoly.”
Charlie nudges him. “Believe it or not, Liam, the twins used to be a lot of fun. Especially in their teenage years. I have so many stories.”
I deadpan. “Right. Because we’re just the most boring people in the world now.”
They both look at each other. Say nothing.
The silence is way too loud.
I blink. “Oh come on.”
They burst out laughing. Like can’t-breathe, full-on belly laughter. Charlie’s doubled over, clutching a hoodie she was about to pack, and Liam’s wheezing beside her.
I just roll my eyes, but I’m smiling too.
This is nice. Easy.
Even with the cold. Even with the weird tension lingering around Madeline today. Even with the shit storm outside and the broken window and the growing list of things to fix.
There’s warmth here.
We pack the rest in silence, but it’s a good one. The kind that hums with comfort.
And yeah… maybe they’re right.
Maybe we used to be more fun.
But I don’t mind this version of us, either.
Not one bit.
We’re just about ready to head out. Liam’s hoisting the last of the bags over his shoulder, Charlie’s zipping hers closed, and I’m double-checking the patch on the window again when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Reid.
I swipe it open and see the message:
Sloane just lost her damn mind. Don’t leave her alone with Madeline under any circumstances.
I freeze for a second, the words catching hard in my chest.
“Everything good?” Charlie asks from behind me.
I don’t answer right away — I type back instead.
What the hell happened?
The reply comes quick.
Will explain later. Just trust me. Idk how far she could take this.
I lock the screen and slide the phone into my pocket. My pulse is heavier now, steady and alert.
Charlie steps closer, eyebrows raised. “Jake?”
I shake my head once. “Yeah, all good."
I glance over at Charlie. “Why do you have so many bags?”
She doesn’t even look up from where she’s shoving something into a tote. “Clothes don’t take much space, but if I don’t bring Madeline’s notebooks and books, I swear she’s going to lose her mind before dinner.”
I snort. Yeah, that checks out.
Liam leans against the arm of the couch, cradling a rolled-up blanket like it’s a log. “The other day she said she couldn’t picture a life without seeing whales every week after this summer. Honestly surprised she’s not more heartbroken about the storm ruining things.”
Charlie giggles, zipping the bag with way too much flair. “That girl was created in a lab, I'm sure of it. She doesn’t run like the rest of us.”
I laugh under my breath, shaking my head. “A very specific lab. One that breeds overachievers with an emotional attachment to data sheets.”
Charlie smirks. “And whales.”
“Don’t forget whales,” Liam adds, slinging one of the lighter bags over his shoulder.
I look at the pile building by the door—more than I expected, but all of it makes sense.
We get everything sorted—finally—and head out, Liam locking the door behind us. The wind’s still got a bite to it, but it’s nothing like yesterday. Just cold enough to make your fingers sting if they’re exposed too long.
I’ve got most of the bags slung over both shoulders and a couple in my hands. Books, notebooks, whatever Charlie deemed critical for Madeline’s “mental stability,” as she called it. Feels like I’m carrying a damn mobile library, but I don’t complain.
Charlie’s behind me with a stack of blankets hugged to her chest, and Liam’s carrying a duffel with pillows strapped to the side and some more bedding under one arm.
“Next time,” I mutter, mostly to myself, “we’re all getting assigned one backpack and that’s it.”
Charlie laughs. “You say that every time.”
“And every time I end up hauling half a dorm room.”
Liam grins from behind a bundle of fleece. “You’re just built for it, man. Human pack mule.”
I grunt, adjusting a strap digging into my shoulder. The road’s still wet, puddles scattered like landmines. Fallen branches crack under our boots, and the sky’s still a moody gray, but there’s movement again in town. People checking damages, clearing up the mess.
Still, I can’t shake the buzz of that last text from Reid. Not with Madeline’s name in the air. And the worst part is not knowing if Reid’s just pissed—or if he actually saw something worth worrying about.
Either way, we’re getting back fast. If Sloane so much as looks at Madeline sideways, I want to be there.
Not because I don’t think Madeline can handle herself.
But because she shouldn’t have to.