Chapter 11 Storm Night
By late evening, the storm rolled back in with a vengeance. The wind pushed against the windows hard enough that the glass hummed. Snow swirled so thick outside that I could barely see the porch light. The whole cabin felt smaller, quieter, wrapped in a tension I didn’t want to admit I felt.
Drew looked up from the couch first, eyes flicking to me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said too quickly.
Josh lifted his head. “Baby girl.”
I tried again. “It’s just loud. That’s all.”
Another gust hit hard, rattling the balcony railing. I flinched before I could stop myself.
Josh stood and opened an arm. I walked straight into him without thinking. He pulled me onto the couch and settled me on his lap, one arm around my waist, one hand smoothing down my back.
“You can be honest,” he said softly.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Storms in the dark just suck. I’m fine. Just… not relaxed.”
Jake joined us a moment later, dropping onto the couch beside me. He nudged my knee gently. “You do not have to be fine. You can just be here.”
Patrick checked the window locks without saying anything. Mike lowered the TV volume and came over to sit on the arm of the couch. Drew disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a blanket.
“Sit up a little,” he said.
Josh lifted me enough for Drew to tuck the blanket around me, then settled me back against his chest. Mike adjusted the edge so it wouldn’t slip. Jake rested his arm behind me, close enough that his shoulder touched mine, warm and steady.
Another wave of wind hit the house. The lights flickered.
I felt my whole body tense.
Patrick crossed the room in two steps and crouched in front of me. “Generator is ready,” he said calmly. “Even if the power goes out, nothing changes.”
I nodded, but my shoulders were still tight. Josh rubbed slow circles on my hip.
Jake shifted closer. “Tell me what part you hate the most,” he said quietly. “The noise or the dark.”
“Both,” I admitted. “Mostly the not knowing. Not seeing what’s out there.”
“So look at us instead,” he said. His voice was soft, gentle, warm, the way only Jake could manage.
Mike leaned back, stretching his legs. “We’ll talk until it passes. We used to do that during storms when we were kids.”
Drew sat on the rug at my feet, leaning against the couch. “Josh used to climb into our room because he said storms made him listen too hard.”
Josh grumbled behind me. “I was six.”
“And terrified,” Drew added with a smile.
“I was being cautious,” Josh corrected.
Jake laughed quietly. “You walked around the house checking the locks like you were on patrol.”
“That sounds accurate,” Patrick said.
Josh pulled me a little closer. “I was not that bad.”
“You still do it,” Mike pointed out.
Josh opened his mouth, then shut it because he could not argue with that.
The wind roared again. The cabin shuddered.
My breath stuttered before I could stop it.
Josh kissed the back of my shoulder. “You are safe.”
Drew reached up and rested a hand on my knee. “Nothing gets through us.”
Patrick stood again, checking the window one last time. “Visibility is zero. But we are sealed in and completely secure.”
Mike nudged my ankle with his. “Want me to distract you with the story of how Jake tried to cook Thanksgiving dinner by himself last year?”
Jake groaned. “Please do not.”
“Oh, I definitely do,” Mike said.
Jake rolled his eyes but rested his hand lightly over mine, thumb brushing my skin. “It was fine.”
“It was not fine,” Drew said.
Patrick leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You set the oven mitt on fire.”
“It was barely a fire,” Jake said calmly.
Josh snorted. “It lit the ceiling.”
“I put it out,” Jake argued.
“With soda,” Mike reminded him. “You dumped a whole can on it.”
“A tactical response,” Jake said.
I smiled despite myself. “I would like to hear this story.”
Jake pointed at me with a betrayed expression. “I thought you were on my side.”
“I was never on your side,” I teased.
He leaned in closer, voice low and warm. “You say that, but you smile every time I talk. I am very lovable.”
My cheeks warmed. Josh rubbed my side like he could feel it.
Another strong gust slammed into the balcony. The lights flickered again. This time I didn’t gasp out loud, but I felt Josh tense around me, protective instinct kicking in fast.
Patrick’s voice stayed even. “Normal. Nothing unusual.”
I nodded, focusing on the weight of Josh’s arm, the quiet pressure of Drew’s hand, the warmth of Jake beside me. Mike’s steady presence just beyond that. All of them close. All of them were watching me without making me feel watched.
The storm deepened for another hour, the kind of storm that shut out the world. But inside the cabin, the air felt warm with laughter and soft teasing and hands that kept finding me without hesitation.
Jake rested his head lightly against mine. “See? Not so bad.”
“Still loud,” I whispered.
“Then we will talk louder,” Mike offered.
Patrick shot him a look. “No.”
Josh tilted his head, his voice close to my ear. “Breathe for me.”
I did.
Slow. Even. Steady.
The storm didn’t stop. But it started to feel farther away.
Patrick finally flipped off the overhead light, leaving only the soft glow of the fire. “If you want to sleep out here, we will stay with you,” he said.
Jake nodded. “Yeah. We will pile around you and keep watch.”
Mike smirked. “Jake will snore.”
“I do not snore,” Jake said, offended.
“You do,” all four brothers replied.
I reached for Jake’s hand under the blanket. “It’s okay. I like your snoring.”
He froze, then smiled with his whole face. “Careful, Em. Compliments like that go straight to my head.”
Josh kissed my cheek. “We’ve got you, baby girl.”
And with the storm still raging outside, I believed him.