I have to admit, they were right when they said the panic room isn’t as bad as it sounds. I expected it to be a tiny, cold room full of harsh materials to keep people out. But boy was I wrong.
When Wynter guided me through the small door in Snow’s closet and into the panic room, I was shocked. I stood there for a good five minutes looking around at the row of computers along the back wall, the projector and modular couch in the middle of the room, and the pile of games in the corner. It’s at least the size of the apartment I grew up in, if not bigger. Perhaps that shouldn’t surprise me seeing as I’ve thought that about almost every room in this house, but I never knew a panic room could be so huge.
“Any word?” I ask Everett for the tenth time in the last half an hour. I know I should be patient, and I know I have no right to ask. I’m a nobody in this room, and more than once I’ve found myself wondering why I’m even here. I’m not family. I’m not Storm’s girlfriend, or whatever the equivalent is with a mafia boss. I’m just a girl who found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time and a target in the middle of some kind of war.
He looks up from the computer screen with kind eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, patting the seat beside him. I sit down slowly, relieved to be back in yoga pants and a sweater after the tight dress I wore to the gala. “I bet this is really scary for you, but this isn’t uncommon. I have eyes on the situation, but I can’t hear what anyone is saying and I’m too far away to get a good grasp on the tension.” He points to the screen where I can see a group of people on the street. They’re obscured by plumes of smoke and several SUVs, but I can clearly see Storm in the grainy black-and-white image.
“Where’s this camera?” I ask.
“It’s a local convenience store.”
“Did they give you access?”
He chuckles, his gaze falling over my shoulder where Wynter has fallen asleep on the lounge. “Not exactly.”
I suck in a breath and nod my head in understanding. There’s a lot I don’t know about this life, and that I likely won’t ever know. The fact they’ve shown me this much has old concerns about being dumped in the bottom of the lake when Storm grows tired of me rising to the surface. “Does this happen often?”
Everett sighs, but it’s not out of frustration. It’s like he isn’t sure how to answer the question in a way that will have the least blow back on Storm. “Recently, more than we would like. But it hasn’t always been like this, and it won’t always be like this.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Storm will eliminate any threat that may come to his family. He has to do it in a way that is logical and that will avoid further conflict, but he will do it.” He speaks with confidence, but how can he know this isn’t the time the threat gets the best of him?
I watch the screen as the woman he’s talking to, presumably, the same woman who tried to take me a couple of weeks ago turns on her heel and gets into one of the SUVs. Storm and two of the scary men from the charity event remain standing in place, none of them moving until all the SUVs have pulled off the street, turning toward the docks.
Everett is on his phone immediately, talking to someone in words I can’t follow while his fingers fly across the keyboard. I take that as my cue to leave and stand from my seat. I cross the room to sit beside Emerson who’s reading something on her Kindle.
She looks up at me with a soft smile. “Are you holding up okay?”
I nod. I don’t really have any other option. I may not understand how this family works, but I’m not so stupid I don’t know it’s a bad idea to appear weak in front of them.
“It’s okay to be scared, Ayvah. It would be more weird if you weren’t.”
“I know, I just…” I just what? Don’t belong here? Won’t be around long enough to see how any of this plays out. Don’t know if I could do this life even if it was a viable long-term option?
“I know,” she says quietly. “The transition into this life is a steep one. It’s not a matter of dating and courting, because if men like Rayne and Storm don’t lock down their woman, someone may try to take them. But what I can tell you as someone who has been where you’re sitting now, is that a man like Storm will protect you with every breath in his lungs. You may not see it yet, or perhaps you’re not ready to accept it, but Storm is all in.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, because frankly, I don’t believe it. For what feels like the hundredth time since I met Storm Saint James, I fell asleep wondering what on earth he could want with a woman like me.
“Ayvah!” Someone shakes me gently, their voice quiet but firm.
I groan and tug the soft blanket wrapped around me over my head. There’s no way it’s time to get up yet.
“The guys are back,” Wynter tells me gently and my eyes fly open.
Oh my god. How could I forget? The explosions at the charity event, being sent back to the estate and locked up in the panic room while we waited for the danger to pass.
I throw the blanket off my body and swing my legs over the side of the soft lounge. I quickly make my way to the door we came in through and before I realize I’m doing it, I sprint down the steps toward the front door.
Please be okay.
Please be okay.
I chant the words to myself over and over again as voices fill the entryway, but none of them are Storm’s. What if something happened to him? What if I never get to tell him…
My step falters at the thought. What if I never get to tell him how I feel?
I round the corner and stop dead when I see the group of men standing in the middle of the lobby. Rayne, Storm, and Everett are speaking in hushed tones with the scary men from the event, but the moment gray eyes meet mine, the rest of the world disappears.
The relief is so strong my legs shake beneath me as I take a few steps toward him. I shouldn’t. Not when they’re obviously doing business, but I can’t help myself. I need to touch him, I need to tell myself I’m not dreaming, that he’s really okay.
Storm seems just as enthralled with me as I am him as I step away from the group without a word and closes the distance between us. As soon as I’m within reach, he wraps his arms around me and tugs me into his chest, and when his arms wrap around me all my worries fall away. He’s okay. He’s safe. “I’ve got you, baby girl,” he whispers into my hair and I can’t help but lean into him more.
He pulls away from me enough to look over his shoulder and say, “We’ll meet in the morning,” before he throws me over his shoulder with an ease I’m surprised by. I’m not exactly light. He starts toward the stairs, taking long strides like he’s not lugging around a whole other human.
“I can walk.” I grip on to the back of his suit jacket as if it will do anything to stop me from falling if he loses his grip.
“I know.”
“You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You better not be talking badly about yourself, Ayvah, because I promise you won’t like the consequences,” he growls as he reaches the top step. He doesn’t seem out of breath at all and seeing as I lose my breath walking up these stairs, I’m starting to wonder if he’s fucking superhuman or just really fit.
“Just stating the facts,” I whisper. Part of me wants to provoke him. Part of me wants to know what my punishment would be if I can just tip him over the edge, because I have a feeling we both need it right now.
