The house is quiet as I pace up and down the hallway outside Storm’s office. I managed to tell Jack what happened in the bathroom, but by the time I did, Annalise was long gone. She must have slipped out while he was fretting over me.
But when we got back, he told me to go straight to the bedroom while he spoke to Storm, and that was five hours ago. I did what he told me at first, but the anxious energy running through my body made it impossible to sit still and somehow I found myself here.
The fact Storm hasn’t come to check on me weighs down on me heavily, but he’s probably just busy. He has a threat to deal with and checking on my fragile mental state likely isn’t high on his list of priorities. Except, the more time that passes, the more on edge I feel.
The door swings open as I pass and I turn to see the man I’ve fallen in love with. Except, he looks anything but happy to see me here. In fact, he looks as if I’m the last person he wants to see right now.
“What are you doing out here?” he demands. “You were told to wait in the bedroom. Why can’t you ever follow a goddamn order I give you.”
I shy away from his harsh tone. There’s none of the tender man I’ve come to know over the last few weeks. This is the man he shows the rest of the world. The man who’s devoid of emotions, who considers loved ones his weakness. The love I’ve become accustomed to seeing in his eyes is gone, and all that remains is his cold stare. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Ayvah,” he snaps, gripping me around the elbow harshly and marching us toward the stairs.
“Storm, what are you doing?”
“Doing what I should have done the day you arrived,” he growls as we enter the bedroom and he pushes me to sit on the edge of the bed. He disappears into the wardrobe and comes back with two suitcases, the sight of which makes my stomach plummet.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask quietly, not wanting to provoke him any further.
“No,” he replies without looking up. “You are.”
I stare at him but no words come to my mind despite the myriad of questions that should spill from my lips. Where am I going? How long am I going for? Am I going alone? But instead of voicing them, I watch as he gathers armfuls of the clothing he bought me. He dumps them into the suitcases and then starts on the drawers. Trip after trip until the luggage is so full I doubt it’s going to choose, all the while my heart beats wildly in my chest.
“Storm?” I whimper as he gathers my laptop and books and shoves them into a backpack.
“Just be quiet, Ayvah. You’ve done enough,” he growls.
“I don’t understand what I did. I don’t understand what’s going on.” Tears spring to the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
“You’re leaving,” Storm says simply, as if it answers all the questions I have. He zips the luggage before dragging them to the door, where Jack stands looking solemn. He won’t meet my eye and perhaps that’s the most concerning part of this.
“Where am I going?” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to break under the pressure of the words.
“Canada.”
“Why?”
Storm huffs out an irritated sigh and turns to face me for the first time since we entered the room. “It’s little wonder your family treated you so badly all those years when you ask so many stupid fucking questions.”
I flinch at his words and his tone, both equally as toxic as the other. How can he speak to me like this after telling me he loved me last night? “I don’t understand, last night you said—”
“I didn’t mean it,” he snaps. “Not a fucking word. All you’ve done is cause me trouble from the moment you walked into my life, and I should have sent you away that day.” He turns away from me and approaches an uncomfortable-looking Jack, but I can’t focus on anything other than Storm’s retreating form. “Take her to the airfield. There’s an envelope on the plane with her passport, cash and an address for her. I want you to get her settled and I want you back here in three days’ time.” His words are cold and detached, as if he’s talking about a business deal, not the woman he was swearing he wanted to spend his life with less than twenty-four hours ago.
“I don’t want to go to Canada.”
He turns to me, his eyes cold and callous as they settle on me. “I don’t really give a fuck what you want, Ayvah. The only reason you’re being set up is because if Annalise catches a whiff of you, you know enough you could put a dent in our operations.”
“Then why don’t you just kill me then,” I challenge. He’s lying. He has to be lying, because the alternative is unthinkable. It would mean he’s lied to me for weeks. He took my virginity. He took my heart. He took all that I am. How can he possibly not care about me at all?
For the first time since he came out of his office, something other than disinterest crosses his schooled features. Anger. I step back, the backs of my legs hitting the mattress and stopping me from putting any more distance between us. “Because I’m not in the business of killing women. But rest assured Ayvah, you breathe a word about my organization or my family to anyone, and you will find yourself at the bottom of the ocean.”
I flinch at the venom in his voice, and the tears break free. I can’t hold them back anymore, not when every word out of his mouth is meaner than the last. The man standing before me is so far removed from the one I fell in love with, I can barely reconcile that they’re the same person.
He rolls his eyes and lets out an irritated sigh. “Of course you’re crying. What else did I expect from a silly eighteen-year-old girl? Of course you can’t take this like a woman.”
“I just don’t understand. You said all those things last night. You’ve said over and over again that I wouldn’t be leaving. I just don’t get it,” I choke on my own sobs. Tears stream down my cheeks and I briefly consider how pathetic I must look right now. But I’ve never had a broken heart before. I’ve never had my heart torn out and stomped on. And I never want to again. How can it hurt so much? How is it possible for an emotional reaction to be more painful than any physical one I can imagine?
“Ayvah,” Strom says sternly. “You need to get yourself together. Crying over it doesn’t change anything. It’s over. We’re over. I’ve found a place for you to live, a new identity, and more money than you could think of spending. Take it and go before I change my mind.”
“I thought you loved me,” I cry as I take unsteady steps toward Jack. His eyes are darting around the room, never settling on us, and for a moment, I consider how this must be for him. For Storm, it’s frustrating. For me, it’s soul-crushing. But for him, it must be mortifying. Watching your boss tear someone’s heart out and stomp on it must really suck, especially when you’re the one that has to deal with the fallout.
“How could I ever love someone like you, Ayvah. Hell, you said it yourself when you got here.” His words slice me deeper than any knife ever could and I grasp my stomach as if he’s left a gaping wound.
I chance a look over my shoulder when I reached Jack, but Storm was facing the other way. His wide back is straight and stoic, and I finally allow myself to accept this is over. I don’t understand how, or why, or what I did wrong. But if he can’t even bear to look at me long enough to watch me leave, can I really expect him to change his mind?
I take a deep breath and steady myself against the doorframe. “I hate you.” And without another word, I follow Jack down the hallway while another man I hadn’t noticed picks up my bags.
Part of me wants to believe this is a nightmare, but nightmares don’t hurt this much.
