But he could try, couldn’t he?
Filled with a new sense of purpose, he hauled out enough junk to clear a path from the door to the center of the shed. Then he reached up and tugged on the rack to test how sturdily held the kayak was.
The whole rack tore out of the ceiling with a violent screech, bolts and all, and slammed to the concrete floor.
Stephen leaped out of the way, but not before the end of the kayak had smacked his skull. Hard. Rubbing his head and choking on the dust and dirt billowing in the air, he retreated outside and collapsed on an old chair cushion he’d pulled out earlier. Damn, that hurt.
Adventure, my ass.
He rested until the dust settled and his head stopped throbbing. Well, that should teach him. All that rubbish was going right back into the shed where it belonged. Emmett’s smirking voice piped up again in his head, “That’s right, Stevie, and you should go safely back inside where youbelong before you cause any more disasters.”