Page 190 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
There’s my heart breaking again.
“Do you want to live here, Tems?” I ask instead. She sucks up her snot, which I’ve learned is not nearly as gross when it’s done by one’s offspring.
“I wanna live here, Daddy, but….”
“But what?” I ask.
Tempest winds her arms around my torso, squeezing tight.
“I don’t want to live in two houses. Grace Sanderson lives in two houses because her parents aredivorced,and she hates it. And her dad got married, so she has astepmom, and she’sevil—just like in Cinderella. Are you going to marry someone who’s not Mommy? I want you to marry Mommy and live here forever!”
She breaks down into tears again, and I let myself grieve alongside her.
But only for a moment.
Shae gets to choose.
“Here’s what I can promise you, Tems,” I say, stroking her back. “I promise that regardless of what happens between me and your mom, you and Raiden come first. You are always gonnabe the priority in our lives, and I want you to be happy and whole. That’s what matters most.”
Tempest finally pulls away, and her tear-stained, puffy face has me wanting to rip my heart out.
“I love you, Tempest Amaya,” I say, kissing her forehead. “We’ll figure all this out. I promise.”
It’s a promise I intend to keep.
With a sigh that turns into a yawn, she leans back into me and says, “I love you, too, Daddy.”
My phone beeps as soonas I close the twins’ door.
Office. Now.
Well, that doesn’t fucking bode well. I’ve been on edge ever since Zane’s attack, which means I’ve had Axel and Riale on high alert, too. Zane Gibson got too fucking close to Shae, and I want to know all the skeletons in his closet that granted him the power to do that.
I make my way across the estate, stopping in the kitchen for a bottle of water. When I reach it, I pause, staring at the granite countertop where Shae and I ate ice cream and spilled our hearts just weeks ago.
How is it possible it’s only been weeks?
How is it possible we’re back to being strangers?
My heart rate starts to double, and I force myself to look away from the island, wrenching the door open and grounding myself with the coolness of the bottle against my palm.
You’re fine, Storm. Everything is fine.
I close the fridge and jump nearly a foot in the air when a person appears from behind the door.
“Fuck!” I shout, jumping back. My hand instinctively goes to the small of my back, where I usually keep my gun. It’s not on me because I obviously don’t want to wear a piece while around my babies.
“Skai, what the fuck?” I clamp my lips tight, trying to gather patience. “Are you okay?”
I don’t see Skai often. She stays on her side of the property, back where the mother-in-law’s house is. While I receive updates from her care team—her psychiatrist, psychologist, and nursing staff—I make it a point not to be very close to her, and especially not unattended.
The memory of her thinly veiled attempt at flirtation still gives me a sick feeling in my stomach.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, her voice small. She doesn’t sound like she’s pretending to be older, or younger, for that matter. She just sounds…muted. Level, maybe?
“Good,” I reply, stepping away from the fridge. “You should head to bed.”
I look at my watch.
