Free Star Crossed Hurricane by Wendy Knight

a rag doll.
    And ended in a lake.
    She gasped, the cold water shocking her back to her senses far better than the tumble down the stairs did. “Savannah!” Sawyer landed next to her, the water splashing up over her head, into her mouth and eyes. And then he was scooping her up, cradling her against him. “Buttercup? Baby? Tell me you’re okay. Talk to me, sweetheart.” He was trembling, and his heart pounded so hard in his chest she could feel it against her arm.
    He’s never called me Baby before.
    “We’ve got to get out of here. The storm can’t be worse than this place.”
    Now he thinks the storm is safer. He couldn’t have decided that before I fell? If her head hadn’t hurt so bad, she would have rolled her eyes.
    He turned to go up the stairs, still holding her tight. They made it up two steps. On the third, the staircase crumbled, falling sideways and collapsing into the water. Sawyer and Savannah went with it.
    More boards, more banging, more injuries. She went under, Sawyer on top of her, and she stupidly tried to scream, but her mouth just filled with water. Her arms and legs thrashed as she fought her way to her feet.
    Sawyer jerked her up, out of the water. She gasped and coughed, choking on stale water. Everything hurt. “Are you okay? Buttercup? Are you okay?” He bent down, brushing the back the hair plastered to her face.
    She nodded, still coughing.
    “Shit. You’re all bloody.”
    “You—you’re not so—hot yourself,” she gasped between coughs.
    Sawyer cracked the barest hint of a smile. Still holding her, he sloshed across the dark basement and set her on top of an old furnace, safely out of the water.
    She could barely see him in the darkness, and the storm above was muted. It felt safe in this freezing basement full of water. The thought made her giggle.
    He raised an eyebrow, clearly beginning to doubt her sanity.
    “There’s light coming from somewhere. If we can find it…” He sloshed across the room, scanning the ceiling, until she couldn’t make him out in the shadows. Suddenly, the basement didn’t feel so safe anymore.
    “I thought you said we couldn’t brave the storm.” Her head hurt. Her shoulder and elbow hurt. She felt like she’d been hit by a very angry truck. All she wanted was to go home. It was only, like, a forty-five minute run. Surely they could brave the storm for that long?
    The storm is taking down an entire house. You really think you can handle it?
    Oh yeah. Good point.
    “It might be better to just stay in here until the storm passes…” Sawyer was muttering from the darkness. “But it’s damn cold.”
    Aaron’s phone had been in her jeans pocket and hadn’t gotten as wet as hers. She pressed the on button and raised it up, relieved by the dim light. She could see Sawyer again, and a bit of the basement. “There’s a crack here… but it’s not big enough to get out of,” Sawyer said, poking at the ceiling.
    “Hey.” Savannah jumped off the furnace and into the icy water. “There’s a door over here.”
    “Good. We have to get out of here. The water’s rising.”
    Well. That wasn’t alarming at all.
    This house that she’d been so excited to see had turned into something from a horror movie. All that was missing was a man with a chainsaw and a creepy mask. Shivering, she shoved that thought out of her mind before she caused widespread panic.
    She waded across the room, holding Aaron’s phone up to light her path. She heard Sawyer coming behind her, his much longer legs making easier progress than hers. “That’s a big door,” he said when they stopped in front of it.
    Big was an understatement. It looked like it was made of metal, and it towered over Sawyer’s six-foot frame. “This doesn’t fit in this old house at all,” Savannah said, frowning. Except frowning moved the gash in her head, which stung and ached and complained. She quickly stopped with the frown. “This house… there’s not… this looks