After finding nothing else in the house that implied Stormy’s ex had been there other than putting the cardboard cutout in the closet. And with the paint still dripping he’d probably been in the house while she was preoccupied. How close had she been to being harmed again? The question had his stomach tight. With nothing else to do, he walked out of the house and locked the door. Doing a once around the house, he headed for the car.
Slipping behind the wheel of the Lexus, Reeves knew once he got back to the ranch, he’d get all the information on this asshole. And then things would get fun.
Stormy busied herself with unpacking instead of facing the woman who’d always been there for her. She told her about the bruises, the attacks, the gifts both nice and creepy. Touching the scar on her face, Stormy didn’t go into the details of that night.She left it at Paul broke in and attacked her. There hadn’t been enough makeup and concealer to cover any of it.
Whiskey was freaking out as she stood listening to Stormy. The woman seemed in complete control of her emotions. All Whiskey could do was watch as Stormy unpacked her things.
When the door opened, Whiskey and Stormy both spun around startled. Sighing, Whiskey moved across the room to take her daughter from Maria. “Thank you, Maria.” Whiskey kissed her daughter’s head, breathing in the smell of baby lotion. “Has she been good?”
“She’s perfect. I hate to hand her over, but I need to get dinner started.”
“I appreciate you so much, Maria.”
“It’s my pleasure to take care of my great niece.” Maria gave Whiskey a smile, then stared at Stormy who she raked a disappointing look over. “Problema.”
Whiskey felt a twinge in her chest at the disapproving tone in Maria’s voice. She’d hoped Jackson’s aunt would like her best friend. Shifting her weight, Whiskey looked at Stormy, trying to catch her eye.
Whiskey could see the concern on Maria’s face, hidden beneath the surface of her words was something else. Something disapproving. Stormy did always give moms that feeling. Whiskey fought to keep the smile from spreading across her face. If Stormy didn’t contain her shock, she’s burst out laughing.
When the door shut, Stormy huffed loudly, “Did she just call me a problem?”
“No.” Whiskey giggled. “She called you trouble.” Which was a lie, but funny all the same.
Stormy dropped onto the bed, almost bursting into tears as she struggled to gain control of the emotions she’d been shoving down. What was she going to do? She couldn’t live at the ranchforever. At some point, she would have to go back to Colorado and figure things out. The problem was, she didn’t have a clue. She trembled from trying to keep from crying.
Visibly struggling to rein the tears in, she gave up, letting them fall. She scolded herself as she wiped the tears away. The last thing she would do was sit there and wallow. It wouldn’t change a damn thing. She was safe at the ranch. Hadn’t she seen all the ranch hands and bodyguards on the place when she arrived? But there had been many or more when Whiskey had been kidnapped. Not wanting to go there, Stormy shoved off the bed and went back to unpacking when she heard Whiskey ask a question. “
“Stormy, are you okay?” Whiskey’s voice was tentative but concerned.
The question—Are you okay?—felt like the simplest thing, yet in that moment it seemed to echo the vastness of her confusion. How could she answer that? Could she even answer it honestly? Stormy continued to swipe at the tears.
Whiskey stood there holding her infant daughter, concerned for Stormy, a soft frown pulling at her lips. She was watching her closely, her expression a mix of worry and sympathy, like she understood there was more going on than what Stormy was showing.
“I’m fine,” Stormy said, the words coming out too quickly, too stiff. She tried to force a smile, but it didn’t take. She was still reeling from the swirl of emotions inside her. There was so much she didn’t know, so much she hadn’t figured out yet, and a constant ache of uncertainty that made her want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fall apart. Not here, not now. She needed to be the strong, confident woman Whiskey, the Salvadors, and Reeves knew. Not the weak, emotional shell she’d become.
Whiskey didn’t buy it. She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “You know you don’t have to pretend around me, right?” she said softly. “I’ve seen that look before.”
Stormy’s chest tightened. She took a shaky breath, but she wasn’t sure if it was to steady herself or to hold back the sob that was threatening to break free. “I just… I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands clasped tightly in her lap, almost like she was holding herself together.
Whiskey didn’t speak right away. She just sat down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to brush, but not too close. It felt like Whiskey knew she needed space, but also needed someone nearby.
“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” Whiskey said quietly, her voice calm, steady. “You’ve been through a lot, Stormy. And sometimes... sometimes you need time to breathe and let the pieces fall into place.”
Stormy shook her head, a bitter laugh slipping past her lips. “It’s not just that. It’severything.I don’t even know what my next step is. Everything is just…” She searched for the right word, but nothing seemed to capture the weight of it all. “I don’t know how to be the person I’m supposed to be. Or... maybe I don’t even know who that is anymore.” Whiskey’s hand rested gently on her shoulder, a small gesture, but it felt grounding.
“Maybe that’s okay,” she said. “Maybe you don’t have to know who you’re supposed toberight now. Maybe you just need to focus on who youareright now. Take it one step at a time.”
Stormy exhaled, the tightness in her chest loosening slightly, but the sense of overwhelming uncertainty still lingered. Whiskey was right, of course. But it was hard tofeelright in the middle of all this chaos. It was hard to see a way out when everything was so tangled.
“You’ve got time,” Whiskey added, her voice warm. “And you’ve got people here who care about you. You’re not alone, Stormy. You don’t have to carry this all by yourself.”
Stormy nodded slowly, the tears still threatening but no longer rushing toward the surface. For now, at least, she could let herself breathe.
“Stormy. Why are you unpacking in Reeves’s room?”
Stormy looked at her best friend, curious why she was asking the question. “Why wouldn’t I be staying in here?” Stormy answered. She assumed this was where she would stay while at the ranch.
“Because it’s Reeves’ room.”