I’m shocked when sleep comes easily. I don’t normally sleep well in unfamiliar places, and given how turbulent the night was, I thought I would be vibrating with adrenaline for hours after my head hit the pillow. But I fell asleep within a few minutes, and when I wake, the sun was high in the sky, light filling the room and causing shadows to dance on the walls.
It only takes me a matter of seconds to work out that I’m not alone. Their eyes bore into the side of my face, and even before I open my eyes I know who it is.
Storm.
It’s the intensity of his stare, so different to anything I’ve ever felt that has butterflies fluttering in my belly. I need to get myself under control around him.
“How long have you been sitting there?” I ask, turning my head to face him.
He’s changed since he brought me in here last night. A pair of dark sweats and a T-shirt stretches across his wide chest. It’s clear he hasn’t slept from the dark marks under his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s been doing since he left me in here. “A while.”
“Didn’t you say no one would come in here without my permission?” I roll onto my side to face him, tugging the blankets up around my neck. The clothes Emerson lent me fit surprisingly well seeing as she’s so small compared to me, but the camisole is a little low cut, and I find myself self-conscious under Storm’s attention.
He nods slowly. “You’re right I did. I just…” He trails off as if he isn’t sure how to finish that sentence. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it or not, but it seems like he’s just as confused by me as I am him, and Storm doesn’t strike me as someone who is often confused about much of anything.
He’s the kind of guy who has an answer for everything, who’s never without a plan in times of need, and yet he’s staring at me with confusion and uncertainty, two emotions that seem so out of place.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“No, it’s not. I should have waited until you woke up.” He leans forward in his seat and places his elbows on his knees before rubbing both hands over his face. He hasn’t shaved this morning, and the shadow on his jaw only makes him sexier, if that were possible to begin with. He doesn’t even look real at the best of times, but right now, looking tortured and rumpled, fuck, there aren’t even words.
“Where did you go?”
“To take care of the men who your family sold you to.”
I close my eyes and suck in a breath. He doesn’t need to say the words for me to know what he means by that. He killed them. The things he’s capable of should scare me, they should have me running for the hills. But there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that reminds me that those men deserved to die. They were sick. They bought women and sold them. They bought me. I can only imagine what would have happened next. Would they have taken me to my new owner? Or perhaps they would have broken me in first, made sure I was trained to please a man before going to my new prison.
“They’re never going to hurt you again, baby girl. No one is.”
“You can’t promise me that.”
“I just did. And I don’t make a habit of breaking promises.”
I raise a brow. “And yet you were in here when I woke up.”
Storm chuckles and pushes up out of his seat, taking long strides until he’s standing over me. I thought he was tall when I was sitting beside him, but Jesus when he hovers over me like this I feel like a child. “Touché, baby girl, touché.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“It just comes naturally.” He shrugs. “Get up and get dressed. We’re going to get your stuff from your parents’ house.” He turns on the spot and walks toward the door without another word, leaving me with more questions than ever before. Part of me hoped when Emerson said Storm was going to take care of it, that he would go and get my shit, but I should have known I’m not that lucky.
Or maybe he’s taking me back there to hand me over. I’ve already inconvenienced him so much, why wouldn’t he want to take me back to where I belong?
A shitty apartment, with shitty parents and an equally shitty sister, and a miserable existence that’s barely worth waking up for each morning.
Neither of us has said a word since we got in the car. The only sound is the low hum of the engine and the wheels on the bitumen as we get closer to the city, and closer to my reality. I should have known none of this could last, that no one could ever save me from the future I’ve been trying to save myself from since I was old enough to understand my life wasn’t normal and the way my family treated me was different to how the other parents treated their kids.
“Ayvah?” Storm says, his voice gentle but firm, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Are you okay? You’ve been staring into space since we left.”
“Oh yeah, totally fine.” I cringe at the way my voice wavers under the weight of the lie. The truth is, I don’t want to face my parents, not after what they did to me, and not when I’m not sure what they’re capable of. For all I know the moment I step foot back in that apartment, someone else will come for me.
“Don’t lie to me, Ayvah,” Storm growls.
I sigh. “I’m just thinking about what my next steps are going to be. I’m going to have to transfer colleges, and I’m not sure how to go about transferring my scholarship. I’ll have to find somewhere safe and then find somewhere to live, a job.” God, listing it all out loud is making the lump that’s formed in my stomach grow larger.
He looks over at me, his brows knit together before swerving to the side of the road and slamming the brakes on.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around at the street he’s parked us on. It’s not far from my parents’ apartment, so it’s not in a good area and I try to think back to whether Storm locked the doors when we started driving.
“What is it that you think we’re doing right now?”
“You’re dropping me back at my parents’ apartment so I can pick up my stuff and then get out of the city.”
He blows out a frustrated breath and rubs his hand down his face. “No, baby girl, that’s not what’s happening.”
“What do you—”
“We are on our way to your parents’ apartment to pick up your things because I don’t want you to lose even more than you already have in the last twenty-four hours. I could just buy you all new shit, but I get that women are sentimental about things and I don’t want you to have to lose all of that. Once we’ve gathered your belongings, we’re going to go back to the estate, unpack all your stuff, and then we’re going to have a chat about what’s going to happen next.”
“I can’t stay with you.”
“Why not?”
“Uh… because I’m an eighteen-year-old student and you’re the CEO of a major company and very possibly a crime boss.” Surely that was obvious, but if he needs me to spell it out to him, I’m more than happy to oblige.
He chuckles. “What do you know about crime bosses, baby girl?”
“Nothing, and that’s the point. I have no right living in the same house as you and your family.”
“Well, it’s happening, so you better get used to the idea.”
Before I can process what he’s said and conjure an argument, he pulls back onto the road and turns onto the street I’ve lived on my whole life, effectively halting all arguments until we’ve dealt with the most pressing issue.
My family.
