Chasing the storm

Chapter 12: The Calm Before the Next Storm

(Sienna's POV )

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The storm outside was raging, but inside?

Inside, the real storm was Rowan and Caleb.

And I was so over it.

"Can you two not go five minutes without trying to kill each other?" I snapped, setting down the can of beans I had been attempting to turn into something edible.

Neither of them answered.

Rowan was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, still looking like an ass despite the fresh bruises on his face.

Caleb sat at the opposite end of the gas station, rolling his sore shoulder—the same shoulder Rowan had slammed into when they nearly knocked over an entire shelf arguing over literally nothing.

Ava sighed from beside me. "They're impossible."

"Understatement," I muttered.

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Before the Fight –

Oliver poked at the half-empty can of food. "So, uh… any chance we can make this taste like something other than sadness?"

Ava gave him a flat look. "We're lucky we even have food."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying. The apocalypse could've at least come with better seasoning."

I smirked, passing him a plastic spoon.

Meanwhile, Caleb was frowning at the window. "We need to figure out what caused this storm."

Rowan scoffed. "What are you, a scientist?"

Caleb ignored him. "I'm serious. This isn't normal. The wind keeps shifting directions, the pressure is all over the place, and it's not moving like a natural storm should."

Oliver hummed. "He's got a point. I've seen bad weather before, but this? This is something else."

Ava shivered. "It feels… wrong."

I swallowed.

Because she was right.

I'd felt it too—that eerie, crawling sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Rowan rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You guys are acting like this is some kind of supernatural bullshit. It's a storm. A bad one. That's it."

"Then why does it keep circling back?" Caleb shot back. "Why hasn't it moved on?"

Rowan's jaw ticked. "I don't know. Maybe Mother Nature just decided to screw us over today."

Caleb muttered something under his breath.

Rowan narrowed his eyes. "What was that?"

Caleb looked up, expression flat. "I said, for a guy who acts like he knows everything, you sure don't seem to know shit."

Oh, no.

I barely had time to react before Rowan lunged.

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The Fight...

The next few seconds were a blur.

One second, Rowan was on his side of the room.

The next?

He had Caleb by the shirt, shoving him back against the wall.

Caleb didn't take it.

He shoved back hard, and suddenly they were both grappling, knocking over a crate, the tension snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin.

"Are you two serious?!" I shouted, rushing forward.

Oliver sighed. "Yeah, this feels about right."

Ava groaned, getting up too. "Rowan! Caleb! STOP!"

They didn't.

Rowan moved first, shoving Caleb back—too hard.

Caleb's shoulder slammed against the metal shelf.

He gritted his teeth, sucking in a breath.

Rowan hesitated for half a second.

Then?

Instead of apologizing, instead of even pretending to care, he smirked.

Smirked.

"Oops," he said dryly.

I saw red.

I stormed past Rowan and crouched beside Caleb. "Are you okay?"

He waved me off. "I'm fine."

He wasn't fine.

I could see the pain in the way he moved.

So, I grabbed the first aid kit.

Rowan scoffed. "Oh, come on."

I ignored him.

I focused on Caleb's arm, checking for swelling. "This might bruise. Hold still."

He did, jaw tight, but otherwise quiet as I worked.

Ava knelt beside me, watching her brother carefully. "You're an idiot."

Caleb sighed. "I know."

Rowan snorted. "At least he admits it."

I whipped around.

"You don't get to talk," I snapped.

Rowan blinked.

"You don't get to act like a reckless asshole, hurt people, and then just stand there grinning like it's funny," I seethed.

His smirk dropped.

"That's not what I—"

"You didn't even hesitate," I cut him off. "You just shoved him like he was nothing."

Rowan's jaw clenched. "He provoked me."

"And that makes it okay?"

Silence.

Ava sighed. "Okay, everyone just—breathe."

No one breathed.

Oliver, still eating his food like this was dinner and a show, mumbled, "For the record, I was totally gonna bet on Caleb winning that fight."

Rowan shot him a glare.

I exhaled sharply, turning back to Caleb. "There. It's wrapped."

He flexed his arm carefully. "Thanks."

I nodded, standing up.

Rowan was watching me.

Not smirking anymore.

Not looking cocky.

Just watching.

I didn't meet his gaze.

Instead, I grabbed my plate and sat beside Ava, very done with this entire day.

The others slowly started eating again, though the energy had definitely shifted.

Rowan didn't sit.

Didn't say another word.

After a minute, he just walked toward the back, shoulders tense.

And I hated the stupid, annoying, completely unnecessary guilt that flared in my chest.

Because he had started that fight.

He was the one acting like an idiot.

So why did I feel like I'd just hurt him?

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