Leaving the Storm Behind

The rain came harder as night fell, streaking across the plane windows as if trying to hold them in place. Jake’s hand stayed over Renee’s the whole flight, thumb tracing slow circles against her skin. Neither spoke much. The quiet between them was heavy, filled with what had almost happened back in the cabin and what could have gone terribly wrong. When the plane finally touched down, the lights of the mainland shimmered through the mist. Jake exhaled, his shoulders lowering for the first time in hours. Renee leaned her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. They had made it out. For now, that was enough.

The drive home was a blur of headlights and rain. Their house came into view, dark against the gray sky, and the familiar shape of the porch light flickering felt like a promise. Jake parked the car and rested his forehead against the steering wheel before saying softly, “We’re safe.” Renee nodded, though part of her wasn’t sure she believed it. The quiet felt wrong. Too still. 

Inside, the air smelled faintly of lavender and dust. The boys were still with Renee’s mother, so the house was empty except for the hum of the fridge and the creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. Jake moved through the rooms, checking each window and lock before returning to the living room where Renee stood. “You should rest,” he said gently.

“I don’t think I can,” she admitted. Her voice trembled despite her best effort to sound steady. Jake crossed the room and pulled her against him, his hand sliding through her hair. “He can’t get to you here. Not ever again.” His certainty anchored her for the moment, but something deep inside still shook.

Later, she sat by the window watching rain gather in silver trails down the glass. Her reflection looked pale, older somehow. When Jake joined her, she whispered, “What if he follows us?” He squeezed her shoulder. “Then he’ll regret it.” The room fell quiet again. The storm outside roared, thunder low and steady. When the phone rang, both jumped.

Renee answered with a shaky “Hello.” For a few seconds, only static. Then a voice, deep and ragged. “This isn’t over, Renee.” Her fingers went numb. The line went dead before she could speak. Jake took the phone from her, checked the caller ID, and slammed it on the counter. “He followed us.”

“Jake…” 
“I’m calling the police.” His voice was calm but low, the kind of calm that comes before a breaking point. He called the local station, giving them every detail he could. Renee stood behind him, arms wrapped tight around herself.

When the deputy arrived an hour later, Jake retold the story from the island to the call she just received. The officer took notes and promised to alert the local patrol. Before he left, he instructed them to keep their phones nearby and lock every door. The house felt too large after that. Every sound seemed louder. Renee double-checked each window while Jake secured the back door with new locks. The storm outside had slowed to a drizzle, but inside, the air still hummed with tension.

They settled on the couch with mugs of tea that neither drank. “I just want this over,” Renee whispered. “It will be,” Jake said, his hand finding hers again. “He’s scared. That’s all this is. A man realizes he lost something he can’t get back.” Renee looked at him, her eyes shining in the dim light. “And what if fear turns into something worse?”

“Then I’ll stop it,” Jake said. “Whatever it takes.” The certainty in his voice scared her almost as much as Mike’s call. Hours passed in silence. The rain finally stopped, and the sound of dripping water from the eaves replaced the storm’s fury. Renee drifted off against Jake’s shoulder, exhaustion pulling her under. He stayed awake, watching the shadows crawl across the floor.

When morning came, sunlight cut through thin clouds. Jake made coffee and eggs. Renee joined him, her hair still tangled from sleep, eyes soft with something between peace and exhaustion. For a few minutes, they pretended the night before had never happened. Then the doorbell rang. They froze. Jake set his mug down and motioned for her to stay where she was. He walked to the front window and peeked outside. No one. Only a small box sitting on the porch, soaked through from the rain.

He brought it in carefully, setting it on the table. “No label,” he said. Renee’s stomach twisted. “Maybe it’s from your mom?” Jake shook his head. “No return address.” He opened the box. Inside was a clear bag with a seashell and a folded piece of paper. The shell was painted with a tiny black heart on one side. The paper was a photograph.

Renee’s breath caught when she saw it. The picture was of her and Jake on the balcony of their honeymoon cabin, taken from a distance, looking out through the glass. The timestamp in the corner matched the one from the previous night, when Mike appeared at their door.

Her knees gave out, and she gripped the table to keep from falling. Jake’s face went pale as he looked at the photo, then at her. 
“He was watching us,” she whispered. Jake folded the picture in half and tucked it back in the box. “We’re calling the sheriff again,” he said firmly. “This time, we’re not waiting for him to make the next move.” Renee nodded, tears spilling over. Jake pulled her into his chest and held her until her shaking slowed.

The sound of tires crunched outside. A car pulled up and idled in the drive. Jake turned toward the window, his arm instinctively sliding in front of Renee. The engine stayed running, headlights shining through the rain. Renee whispered, “Jake… who is it?”

He stared through the curtains, his body tensed. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we’re about to find out.” The doorbell rang again, louder this time. The box sat open on the table.
The photo gleamed under the light. And outside, the car engine did not stop.