Chasing the storm

Chapter 2: Eye of the Storm

(Sienna's POV)

I was going to kill Rowan Carter.

Not figuratively. Not as an exaggeration. Literally.

If we survived this storm—and that was a big if—I was going to wring his reckless neck.

The truck lurched violently, tires barely clinging to the soaked ground as Rowan refused to slow down. Rain hammered the windshield, the wipers struggling to keep up, and outside? The sky had turned into a nightmare.

Behind us, the tornado ripped apart the earth, swallowing everything in its path. The wind screamed like a living thing, and lightning split the sky so close I could feel the electricity hum against my skin.

"Rowan, TURN THE HELL AROUND!"

My voice was drowned out by the storm, but he didn't even glance at me.

The idiot grinned.

Grinned.

Like we weren't seconds away from being sucked into oblivion.

"I told you," he said, voice maddeningly calm. "We got this."

I wanted to punch him.

No—I wanted to throw him out of this truck and let the storm deal with him.

Instead, I gritted my teeth and yanked the radio.

"MILO, WHERE THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GO?!"

"Okay—okay—hang on!" Milo's voice crackled through the comms, frantic. "There's an old storm shelter about four miles ahead—left side of the highway! If you get there in the next minute, you might make it!"

Might.

Not exactly reassuring.

Rowan didn't even hesitate. He yanked the wheel hard left.

The truck skidded, fishtailing wildly before catching traction again.

I slammed into the door, gripping the handle for dear life.

"I HOPE YOU TWO KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" Jaxon Ryder's voice boomed from the chopper above us. "That thing is GAINING FAST!"

No shit.

I didn't have to look back to feel it. The tornado was pulling the air around us, trying to drag us in like a black hole.

And the worst part?

We weren't alone on the road.

Up ahead, two headlights swerved wildly, and through the sheets of rain, I barely made out a jeep struggling to stay ahead of the storm.

Someone else was trying to escape.

And they weren't going to make it.

"Rowan—" I pointed, my heart slamming into my ribs. "That car—"

He saw it too. His eyes narrowed.

"Hold on," he muttered.

And then?

He did the most reckless thing imaginable.

He hit the gas.

We shot forward, closing the distance between us and the struggling vehicle.

Through the rain-streaked windshield, I could see two people inside—a guy in his twenties, knuckles white on the wheel, and a girl in the passenger seat, panicked and yelling into a phone.

"They're not gonna make it!" Milo's voice came through, almost drowned out by the wind. "They need to get off that road NOW!"

Rowan didn't hesitate.

He swerved the truck right in front of them, flashing the headlights wildly.

The guy in the jeep must've gotten the message, because a second later, the vehicle veered off the road, tires skidding in the mud as they aimed for the only shelter in sight—an old gas station just barely visible through the storm.

We were next.

Rowan yanked the wheel, sending the truck barreling off the road.

We hit uneven ground—the impact jarring my spine.

I barely managed to stay upright as the truck lurched forward, heading straight for the shelter.

The moment we slammed to a stop, Rowan threw open his door.

"Move!" he shouted.

I didn't need to be told twice.

Rain slapped my face as I stumbled out, the wind nearly ripping me off my feet.

The other two from the jeep were already running—a dark-haired guy with sharp features and a terrified-looking girl gripping his arm.

We all dove inside the abandoned gas station just as the storm hit full force.

The moment the door slammed shut behind us, the world outside turned to hell.

---

For a long moment, none of us spoke.

We just stood there, panting, soaked to the bone, listening to the storm scream outside.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the inside of the old gas station. The shelves were mostly empty, the air thick with dust and mildew.

Then—finally—the dark-haired guy spoke.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his drenched hair. "What the hell was that?"

Rowan grinned, shaking out his jacket. "A storm."

The guy glared at him. "No shit."

The girl beside him, still clutching his arm, shivered. "W-We would've been dead if you guys hadn't blocked us in."

I let out a bitter scoff. "Oh, trust me, he wasn't doing it to save you. He just likes playing with death."

Rowan shot her a lazy smirk. "Worked, didn't it?"

god..I was soaked, freezing, and absolutely done with him. ROWAN

Before I could fire back, the guy stepped forward.

"Caleb Foster," he said, shaking the rain from his sleeves. "And this is my sister, Ava."

The girl gave a weak wave, still visibly shaken.

Rowan nodded. "Rowan Carter. The one with the attitude is Sienna Vale."

I just rolled my eyes. "I don't have an attitude."

Rowan just chuckled.

Ava looked at them, still shivering. "Is it… over?"

No one spoke.

Because we all knew the answer.

Outside, the wind was still howling, and the storm was still hungry.

This wasn't over.

Not even close.

---