Page 183 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
Instead, he leans over me, his familiar scent causing my heart rate to slow, and he kisses me gently on my forehead.
“I love you,” he says with his lips pressed to my flesh.
Those are the only words he speaks before leaving me alone in the warm bathroom, keeping the door open as if he were uncertain if he planned to return.
I blink once.
I blink twice.
I open my eyes, and the water is cold, and all the suds have dissolved into a thin film covering the surface of the tub. I fell asleep.
And still, there’s no sign of Storm outside the fluffy towel, ointment, bandages, and silk two-piece pajama set on the countertop.
I didn’t even hear him return, and I can only assume he’s the one who brought the items in. He wouldn’t let anyone else see me naked, that much I know.
With the pain dulled from the medicine, I drain the tub, dress my wounds, and pull on the sleep shirt and pants.
My stomach drops when Storm isn’t in the bedroom.
“Storm?” I call out, even though I know he’s not hiding in the closet or anywhere else in the space.
The door is slightly ajar, as if calling me to find him.
Daring me to see what he doesn’t want me to.
I don’t know why my feet take me to the garage; I just know to expect him to be there. I don’t expect, however, what I see when I arrive there, peeking through the open door as Storm stands with his back to me, surrounded by Riale and Axel.
“Explain it to me again,” Storm grates out, his voice low and menacing, as if he were being voiced by the devil himself.
Bakari and Darren are bound on the floor, their hands behind their backs, much like mine were when Zane took me. But instead of slight bruising like mine, their faces are swollen and split, as if they’d been beaten for hours.
Blood splatters mark the ground around their bodies.
“There was a sound. It was so late, I didn’t think anything of the cleaning crew or that there’d be anyone else in the building,” Bakari says.
Darren remains quiet.
“Why wouldn’t you operate to the highest extent of your ability to protect her?” Storm grates out.
Bakari sways to the side, shaking his head.
“It was a blind spot,” he spits out, drool spilling from his ballooned lips. “It won’t happen again, sir.”
I can feel the pleading in his voice.
Darren stays silent.
“And you?” Storm rasps. “What’s your story?” That’s when I notice the gun in Storm’s right hand.
From my position, I see the resignation in Darren’s eyes; I track the calculation as he decides there’s no use fighting.
The man spits on the floor at Storm’s feet.
“Fuck you,” he hisses.
Bakari’s eyes widen.
Storm doesn’t move at all, and I hold my breath until he speaks again.
