Torn Apart Read Online Free PDF Page B

which tied the knot in his belly even tighter. In the back of his mind, he already knew the chopper pilot wouldn’t fly in this weather, but until he got the news firsthand, he could still hope.
    Just as he started to turn around, Blalock walked up behind him and punched him on the shoulder.
    “Hey, Earle! What’s up with the ride? When are we gettin’ off this damned barge?”
    J.R. gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to punch Blalock back, only harder—and in the face.
    “We’ll leave when the chopper gets here, and then only if it gets in far enough ahead of the storm,” J.R. snapped; then his eyes narrowed as he looked at Blalock’s face.
    The son of a bitch was high again. But how? J.R. had dumped what he thought was Blalock’s stash. Obviously he hadn’t found everything. Blalock’s pupils were dilated, and his body was tense.
    “Damn it, Blalock! You’re high again. What the hell’s the matter with you?”
    “I’m not,” Stanton muttered.
    “And I’m not stupid! Just get the hell out of my sight.”
    The other man was cursing beneath his breath as he stumbled back toward his sleeping quarters.
    Suddenly a strong gust of wind swept across the landing pad—strong enough that Stanton grabbed hold of a railing to steady his footing, while J.R. ducked his head and leaned into the wind. Stanton cursed.
    “Hey, Earle! I’m goin’ to the head!” Stanton yelled. “If the chopper gets here before I get back, don’t leave without me.”
    Like that would happen, J.R. thought, and glanced back at Stanton as he walked away, just to make sure he was going where he said he was.
    At that moment it dawned on him that this was Sunday. His gut knotted. Katie and Bobby would be in church. He couldn’t help but picture her sitting alone on the pew where they used to sit together, then wondered who, if anyone, sat beside her now.
    It was difficult to accept that he’d been the one who’d chosen to separate the family. He’d been so sure she would come around. It was ironic that he’d finally gotten the job of his dreams and a house to come home to every night, and he was still alone.
    Suddenly his hard hat flew off his head. He turned to grab it, but he was too late as it went rolling along the landing pad, then banged against the railing. He glanced up at the sky again, then ran to retrieve his hat. Once he caught it, he headed for the office on the run. Inside, he reached for his cell phone. He had a feeling the pilot and chopper had already been diverted, but he needed to confirm. He punched in the numbers to the home office, then waited for an answer.
    “Macklan Brothers. How may I help you?”
    “Angela, it’s J.R. I’m still out on the rig. What’s the status of the chopper?”
    “Hang on a sec and let me check.”
    The receptionist put him on hold, but only for a few moments, and then his boss came on the line.
    “J.R. You still there?” Brent Macklan asked.
    He sighed. Where else would he be? The gulf made a damned good moat.
    “Yeah. What’s up?”
    “The pilot who was en route to pick you up has gone off the radar. They think he went down in the gulf. I’m sorry as I can be, but I don’t dare try to get another chopper out in this weather.”
    “Oh, my God,” J.R. mumbled. “Was McCoy the pilot?”
    “Yes.”
    J.R. felt sick. He and Hank McCoy had gone to work for Macklan Brothers the same year.
    “I am so sorry to hear that,” he said.
    “How’s the weather out there?” Brent asked.
    “Steadily worsening. What’s the latest weather report?”
    “The hurricane is still on the same path, which means y’all need to get below deck and stay there.”
    “What about New Orleans and the surrounding area?”
    “They’re predicting severe thunderstorms.”
    “Did they say anything about the area around Baton Rouge?” he asked, thinking of Bobby and Katie.
    “It’s pretty much the same all over the state. Severe thunderstorms, strong winds, possibility of tornadoes and hail.