Building storm, p.18
Building Storm, page 18
She yawns and nods before turning and disappearing back toward the stairs and her room.
Thank God, she bought that story. I am such a shitty liar.
I need to get that cleaned up. And the blood I tracked in on my foot.
There’s no way I can do it, though. I can take care of a lot of things around the house by myself, but I draw the line at scraping a dead cat off my patio. My hand shakes as I pull out my phone and dial the first person I think of.
Landon.
LANDON
All it took was the word “blood” from Storm’s lips for me to throw on shoes and jump into my car. I managed to decipher her garbled, rushed words enough to know it wasn’t her or Angelina bleeding and had something to do with a cat, which slowed the racing of my heart somewhat.
But the panic in her voice has me rushing across town and into her neighborhood at speeds that will probably get me arrested on the spot. The quiet of her street is probably comforting under normal circumstances, but given the limited information she gave me about what happened, it has the hair on the back of my neck raising.
These older neighborhoods have a completely different feel from the area where my condo is. There’s something darker here, older…you can really sense the history of the city. Good and bad.
I don’t know enough about the area to know if it’s safe or not, but given the size and historical nature of these houses, it has to be affluent. But affluent doesn’t always equal safe.
It’s probably nothing. Don’t panic her.
I fly past a minivan and a dark sedan parked along her street and pull up in front of the address she gave me.
Wow.
The old house suits her. It’s no Garden District mansion, but it clearly holds a lot of history and was undoubtedly built to exacting standards over a century ago. Two stories. Gables. Intricate lattice work and a beautiful wrap-around porch. It’s the kind of house I imagined she would live in, and while I never knew Ben, I have no doubt he loved this place too. Either they paid a fortune for it, or Ben spent a lot of time and money on fixing it up.
My car is barely in park before I’m leaping out and racing to her front door. Storm opens it before I even ring the doorbell. Her wide, wet blue eyes and shaking lips have me drawing her into me the second I step through the door.
She shakes in my arms and buries her face against my chest while her hands snake up around my neck.
Christ, she’s a mess.
“What happened? Are you all right? Is Angel all right?”
Storm would’ve told me if they weren’t but I can’t help worrying about them, especially seeing her this distraught.
She pulls back from me and nods toward the back of the house. “I was going outside to sit on the patio and have a glass of wine. I opened the back door and…” She closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath. “…and our cat…it must’ve been a dog or a coyote or something. She’s just shredded.”
I cringe at her description and run my hands up and down her bare arms to try to soothe her. “Did Angel see?”
Please God, say no…
She shakes her head. “No, thank God. I already put her to bed. She came out when I screamed but I told her it was just a spider and she went back to bed.”
Relief relaxes some of the tension in my shoulders, and I lean forward and press a kiss to Storm’s forehead. She releases a tiny sigh and leans into me.
“Okay, show me where it is. I’ll take care of it.”
She gives me a tiny nod, and I follow her into the house through the grand entryway with its immaculate shining wood floors and hand-carved staircase leading to the second floor. I was right about how beautiful this place would be. It’s like something out of Better Homes & Gardens.
The living room and kitchen are just as immaculate, and I do my best to focus my attention on where Storm is leading me even though the carpenter in me wants to examine every minute detail of the place.
She pauses beside a rear door with her hand on the knob. “It’s right outside the door.”
“I’ll take a look. There’s no need for you to see this again.”
There’s been enough death and loss in her life already.
Her mouth tips up in a soft smile, and she opens the door and steps behind it, effectively shutting off her own line of vision from the massacre on the patio.
Holy hell.
She wasn’t kidding about the blood. When mixed with the wine she clearly dropped, it’s like something out of a slasher film out here.
I step to the side to let the light from the sconce on the side of the house hit the patio and squat down.
Shit.
Rage surges through my blood, and I clench my jaw. A wild animal didn’t do this. This cat was butchered. By something worse than a wild animal. A human did this.
The slashed tires on Storm’s car pop to the forefront of my mind, and cold dread slithers down my spine and lodges in my stomach.
This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a message.
I glance toward the door, but it’s still closed. Storm isn’t visible in the glass inset, so she must have stepped away.
Good. I don’t need her to hear this.
Rising to my feet, I grab my phone and dial Gabe. It’s late, but I know he’ll answer.
“Landon? What’s going on?”
I suck in a deep breath and turn away from the gory scene. “I’m at Storm’s. She called me over because she found the cat dead on the patio. She thought a coyote or dog got it, but…”
A low growl slices through the phone. “But what?”
“This wasn’t an animal, Gabe. Someone cut this poor cat apart. It sure seems like a message to me, and coupled with the tire thing…I’m worried.”
“Shit.” Something bangs in the background, and rustling comes across the line like he’s moving. “Someone’s been following her too.”
My eyes immediately move to the darkened yard and the neighboring houses. “What?”
“She said she’s seen a black car several times. She thought it was one of the security personnel we put on everyone after Ben’s death, but we pulled everyone off the family a couple months ago because things were quiet.”
I scrub my free hand over my face and turn around to examine the bloody message again. “Fuck. This is really not good.”
“No. It’s not. And we need to do something about it.”
Damn right, we do.
I’m not going to let anything happen to Storm or Angel. Things may be complicated and up in the air between us, and maybe it’s not my place to step in as her protector when she has a very capable Gabe and two brothers to fill that role, but if anything happens to her…
Christ.
A dull ache forms in the center of my chest, and I reach up and rub at it with my free hand.
I couldn’t handle that.
Somehow, in the short amount of time I’ve spent with her, Storm has managed to work herself into the one place I tried to keep her out of—my heart. The thought of her or Angel being harmed is unfathomable. I have to do whatever I can to protect them.
Gabe will know how best to deal with this obvious threat, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to let him push me out of my role here. Whatever that role may be. Whatever Storm will let my role be.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
20
STORM
I scowl at the phone. If Savage could actually see me, there’d be no doubt I’m ready to end this conversation. “For the third time, I’m not leaving the house.”
Something about my words just isn’t getting through here. I sigh and lean back in my office chair, dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling with the phone pressed to my ear.
He growls and a thump comes through the phone that is undoubtedly him slamming his palm against his desk. “Dammit, Storm. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
Me? Stubborn?
I let out an annoyed laugh and shake my head. “Coming from you, that’s real fucking rich, Savage.”
The man is completely blind to the fact he’s the worst one in the family by far.
“How can you not see the concern here? Someone slashed your tires. Someone killed your cat. Someone has been following you.” He pauses and releases a deep sigh. “We don’t have a fucking clue what any of this is about either. Until we have more information to get this figured out, you either need to go stay with Mom or come to the building and stay with me and Dani or Skye and Gabe.”
Hell no.
There’s no way I’m leaving my house. The house Ben built for us. The only home Angelina has ever known. I won’t throw off her normal life any more than it already has been by moving her somewhere else, even if it is with one of the family.
“I can’t do that.” I push to my feet and wander over to the windows overlooking the river. “I know you’re really worried about this, and it’s not that I’m not worried. It’s just we don’t have any evidence who is behind this, and I think there’s a chance it really could just be neighborhood kids.”
Sickos exist in this world. People who will hurt animals just for the fun of it. Kids who slash tires just to be little punks.
“And the black car?”
Landon did mention seeing a black sedan on the street last night, but when he went out front, it was gone. Still, there are a lot of black cars in this city.
“Maybe it’s totally unrelated?”
The silence that greets me tells me Savage doesn’t buy my assessment. He can’t understand what asking me to leave means. “I’m not going to pull Angel from the only home she’s ever known and worry her for nothing.”
“Dammit, Storm. I had a feeling you would say that so I made other arrangements.”
Shit.
Savage “making arrangements” usually means him taking control and doing whatever the hell he wants regardless of what anyone else says.
“What kind of arrangements?” Anger simmers just beneath my heated skin. The only thing keeping me from going completely postal on him is he genuinely means well and only wants to protect us.
“Saint is going to be, for all intents and purposes, your bodyguard.”
“What?” I slam my palm against the glass and growl. “You can’t do that!”
I don’t need a babysitter. I can take care of myself, mostly. My frantic call to Landon aside. So, maybe I couldn’t handle that on my own, but I’ve survived. Not well, but I’ve managed.
“I can, and I have. Expect to see him soon. He can keep you safe, Storm. Do you really think anybody’s gonna fuck with you when you have a guy who looks like that watching your back?”
No.
And I hate that he’s right about that. I hate when he’s right about anything. I chew on my lip and bite back the retort I want to throw at him—the one where I insist he’s not right just to avoid admitting I’m wrong.
“Look, Storm, until things get settled, it’s just the way it’s going to be, whether you like it or not.”
There’s no point in even responding to him. I end the call and squeeze my hand so tightly around the phone, I’m afraid it might actually snap. It’s not that I’m not concerned about what’s been going on, because I really am. All these things piling up have unease settling in my stomach.
But after everything that’s happened to the Hawkes in the last two years, I don’t believe in needless worry. Until I have some information so we can really know who is behind this, I don’t want to jump to the worst possible scenario, even if I do understand why Gabe and Savage might go there.
Even Landon looked worried last night. More than worried. He was terrified and angry. When he came in after checking things out, he told me there was no reason for me to see it again and asked where he could find a trash bag and some kitchen tongs. I directed him to the kitchen and leaned against the counter and watched while he rummaged through my drawers and cabinets for everything he needed.
Seeing him in my space, doing something so intimate, tore me in two. Another man in Ben’s kitchen, in the kitchen he built for me, going through the cabinets Ben handcrafted…it made me want to scream at him to get out. But the part that has slowly been falling for Landon released a little contented sigh at the way he rushed to my rescue and stepped in to take care of everything without a second thought.
I can admit…he looked good in there. I could get used to having him around. Like everything since I met this man, it’s a total contradiction.
And that’s fucking terrifying.
Wanting to need someone is not at the top on my to-do list. Needing Ben and losing him is what broke me. I can’t need another man that way, no matter how badly I want him.
And hell…do I want him. When he announced he was staying the night, my body immediately flooded with heat anticipating his touch, but then my mind kicked into gear and the question of where he was going to sleep was at the forefront. I hate the disappointment that sagged my shoulders when he offered to take the couch. I understood it, though. This is complicated enough without Angel potentially waking up and finding him in my bed.
That didn’t make it any easier to climb into bed alone. Knowing he was asleep down there, so close yet so far away, kept me awake more than the dead cat did. Plus, I’m not entirely sure what to do about the Angel situation.
If Landon and I are going to keep this casual, then she definitely shouldn’t see us together. She may run into him at family functions or work things but she can’t see the connection between us. She can’t think there’s anything more. That would be too confusing for her.
Then again, if there’s any possibility of this going anywhere, it would be good for her to start spending some time with him.
God, this is just one giant clusterfuck, and I’ve got Savage and Gabe breathing down my neck to have a God damn bodyguard.
It’s not going to happen.
The intercom buzzes. “I’m sorry, Storm. You have a visitor on his way back.”
My heart leaps. “Is it Landon?”
“No, sorry.”
Who else could it be?
I check the door just as a mountain of a man appears, occupying the entire jamb with his shoulders barely making it in. He closes the door behind him and flashes me that brilliant smile.
Well, this is awkward. I’ve managed to avoid seeing Saint since our little non-run-in at the party. I haven’t had to go over to TWO, where he primarily works, and I was hoping I wouldn’t see him for a long, long time to avoid this very situation.
My only hope is that he ignores it and pretends it never happened like I plan on doing.
“Saint? What are you doing here?”
I move around my desk and sit back in my chair. He leans over the two chairs facing me, putting his giant palms on the backs.
“Did you talk to your brother and Gabe?”
I sigh and shove a hand back through my hair. “Yeah, I just got off with Savage. I’m going to tell you exactly what I told him. I don’t need a babysitter.”
A low rumbling chuckle comes from deep in his chest, and he rises to his full six-foot five height. “I’m not a babysitter, Storm. Just think of me as an added security.”
“That I’m still not sure I actually need.”
He shrugs his massive shoulders. “If you don’t need it, then great, I’m getting paid to do nothing, but if you do, if something happens and I’m there, then is it not a good thing we were all overly cautious?”
Shit. He has a point.
The same point Savage and Gabe were trying to make, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Hearing it from someone who isn’t family makes it sound a lot more reasonable.
“I just don’t like it, Saint. I didn’t like it when Savage and Gabe initially put someone on me after Ben died, but I understood the reasoning there. We didn’t know what was going to happen with Dom’s associates who were still around or if anyone was going to retaliate against us for his death. But things have been quiet. It’s been over six months.”
Long, hard, agonizing months where I wasn’t worried about what Dom’s men might do because I could barely manage to keep myself functioning.
“There’s no evidence this has anything to do with that, which is why I think it might just be a misunderstanding and some neighborhood kids.”
It makes sense. Dom’s men wouldn’t slash tires and kill a damn cat. They would just end me if that was their ultimate goal. When Dom decided Dani was becoming a threat, he set things in motion to have her taken care of. He didn’t mess around. There’s no reason to think any of his surviving goons would.
None of this makes any damn sense.
Saint frowns. “What about the car that’s been following you?”
“There are a lot of black sedans in the city. And it could all be in my head. It might not even be the same car.”
He considers me for a moment, his chocolate brown eyes analyzing with a depth of intelligence you might not expect from somebody in his job.
I’ve always thought people underestimate Saint. He played professional football, but not all jocks are brick-headed, and Saint has proven time and time again that’s he’s not only loyal but also incredibly smart.
It’s not immediately apparent to some. All they see is a massive man who could break them in half with the flick of his wrist, but underneath all that is so much more. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, the compassion, intelligence, and humor there seem to draw people to him.
He’s perceptive. He’s a good person to have on your team. No matter how reluctant I might be, I need to remember that.
The corner of his mouth ticks up, and he nods. “Yes, it’s possible it’s nothing, but do you want to risk that for yourself and for Angelina?”
It’s the mention of Angel that has my throat tightening and cold dread working its way under my skin. If anything happened to me, she would be alone. And if anything happened to her, I just…
I shake my head and clear my throat of the emotion currently clogging it. “You’re right. But I have some ground rules.”
