Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Jesus, it was drastically colder here. A quick glance out the windows revealed an empty waterfront and crashing waves. No wonder. Nobody wanted to be outside in this weather.
I shook my head and found the molds I needed. I should’ve brought them over with the others earlier.
“You have the right equipment to actually melt silicone?” Ty asked.
“Technically—I mean, I have the furnace for glasswork, so I can reach the right temperatures. But no. I work with silicone rubbers that I cure at no heat instead.” I nudged him and placed the molds next to the sleeve. “You must’ve had access to some state-of-the-art equipment in the Air Force.”
“That’s why I was wondering,” he chuckled. “I’ve seen one of those silicone heaters before, and…” He threw a glance over his shoulder, taking in the space.
The lights above flickered again, derailing our thoughts, and I reckoned it was time to check for updates.
Just that thought alone was enough to miss Macklin a bit. We’d bundled up on the couch many times to watch the Weather Channel as storms moved in. We’d loved a good documentary on natural disasters.
“Oh—” I scratched my forehead as my screen filled with warnings and alerts from news networks. They were just sensationalizing the storm, right? Nor’easters were common.
“What’s the verdict?”
“That we might wanna pack up soon,” I replied reluctantly. “They’re showing the storm on a map here, and it might actually squeeze its way into Delaware Bay and make landfall in Dover. South Jersey is being evacuated—Cape May, Wildwood, all the way up to… Huh, okay, so… Evacuations recommended from Ocean City, Maryland, to Ocean City, New Jersey.”
Why would you have two towns with the same name positioned so close to each other?
Ty joined me at my side and furrowed his brow at the screen. “That’s one hell of a storm system.” He pinched the screen and zoomed in over DC.
Everyone in the Metro area was being advised to stay off the roads. Warnings had been issued about debris blocking the way, like smaller trees, mailboxes…anything that matched the size of Macklin’s electric scooter.
Even if DC only caught the outer rim—
“There’s an update.” Ty spoke the words as I read the notification dropping down, and I clicked on it. Sure enough, the storm had moved in the past hour or two, and maybe it wouldn’t enter the bay after all. It was stalling southward, which shifted it closer to us.
“I think I just heard all New Yorkers sigh with relief,” I muttered.
“It’s fast-moving, innit?” Ty murmured. “We should probably call it a day.”
And that sucked, to be honest. I liked Ty. I’d only gotten a glimpse of his brilliant engineering mind in Florida, and I’d been hoping to see more of it tonight. Because I was getting the impression that he actually wanted to create a working mechanism inside the suction cups, allowing them to latch on to a person. Who in their right mind wouldn’t wanna see that unfold?
I sighed. “Yeah.”
I pocketed my phone and glanced toward the windows. Hopefully, nothing would happen to the factory, because I was the only one who’d sprung for the storm shutters when we’d all found an offer from a company in our mailboxes. After grabbing my suit jacket and my coat, I went over to the windows and began lowering the metal screen on the outside.
To me, it’d been an investment since I had equipment worth over two hundred thousand dollars in here. But the thing was, I was far from alone in having an expensive hobby in this building. Fucking youngsters. Whether they were here on their parents’ dime or they’d reached professional success, the hardware spread across these four floors was a gold mine.
“Here’s a crazy idea,” Ty said. “I live five minutes away and have a guest room. Bring the tentacle sleeve, and I can design a 3D-print of it on my computer. I have a twelve-year-old Glenlivet and a sixteen-year-old Lagavulin too.”
Sweet Jesus. “You had me at bring the tentacle sleeve, but the Lagavulin will make me yours.”
He smirked and lifted his brows. “Tempting.”
I chuckled at his joke and felt instantly better. An evening with Ty sure beat a night alone in a hotel room.
I scowled and reached out the car window to punch in the code again. Come on, 4398. Why was nothing happening? It was a simple barrier gate, but the damn bar wouldn’t lift up to let us out of the factory premises.
“And you complained about our security,” I said.
Ty laughed. “I stand corrected. You have wonderful security in a storm where the beam is probably frozen in place.”
I snorted and resigned myself to leave the comfort of my car and brave the storm. “Pray for my return.” With that, I opened the door and stepped out into frigid weather where I was met by harsh, whipping winds and a mix of heavy snowfall and freezing rain. After inserting the code again, I jogged over to the beam and folded up the collar on my coat. Then I grabbed onto the end of the bar and grunted as I pulled it upward—but it was fucking stuck. I could budge it sideways a few inches, and it shook well on its own in these winds, but upward was a no-go.