Page 21 of Haunted By the Storm
"You should try to get some sleep," I finally say. "It's been a hell of a day."
She nods but makes no move to leave. "Can I ask you something first?"
"Shoot."
"Why did you agree to help me? Really. And don't say it's because of Blaze."
I consider deflecting and giving her some bullshit answer about club brotherhood, but something about the direct way she's looking at me makes me want to give her the truth.
"Because I know what it's like to be hunted," I say. "To feel like nowhere's safe. And I know what happens when there's no one there to help."
She doesn't press for details, which I appreciate. Instead, she just nods, like she's filed this information away for later examination.
"Thank you," she says, rising from the couch. "For being honest. And for... earlier. With the storm."
I stand as well, suddenly very aware of how close we are, of the scent of her shampoo—something floral and citrusy at once. "No problem."
For a moment, we just look at each other, and I feel something shift between us; a recognition, maybe, of the strange connection that's forming despite all the reasons it shouldn't.
"Goodnight, Storm," she says softly, breaking the moment.
"Night, Camryn."
I watch her walk to the main bedroom, waiting until the door closes behind her before I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. What the fuck am I doing?
Shaking my head, I head downstairs to the main clubhouse. A few brothers are still up, playing pool or drinking at the bar. Shadow looks up from his game as I enter, raising an eyebrow in silent question.
"They're settled," I tell him, heading for the bar. "Kid's asleep. Camryn's turning in."
"And you look like you need a drink," he observes, following me.
I grunt in response and pour myself two fingers of whiskey before downing it in one go. The burn helps center me, pulls me back to reality. This is who I am, a brother of the Fury Vipers, anenforcer who deals in violence and retribution. Not some soft-hearted babysitter for a scared woman and her kid.
Except it didn't feel like babysitting sitting with Camryn during the storm, holding her hand through her fear. It felt like something else entirely, something I'm not ready to name.
"Security system at her place is all set," Shadow says, pouring his own drink. "Blaze is staying there tonight, checking for any signs of this Eric asshole."
I nod. "Good. I want to know everything about him. Where he lives, where he works, who he hangs out with. I want to know his fucking shoe size and what he ate for breakfast."
Shadow smirks. "Already on it. Cruz and Digger are running down leads. By tomorrow, we'll have a complete picture."
"Have we warned the Irish?" I ask, thinking of Makenna Gallagher and her crew. They control a significant portion of New York, so it never hurts to have their eyes looking out for any trouble brewing.
"Ace put in a call," Shadow confirms. "Kinsley's handling it personally, since this involves a woman and child."
That's a relief. Kinsley Anderson doesn't fuck around when it comes to protecting innocents, especially women and children. She was brutalized as a teenager, losing her baby in the process. The club let her down big fucking time. It’s something that’ll never happen again. Her ties to both the Irish mob, through her best friend, Makenna Gallagher, and to the Fury Vipers, through her brother, Ace, and her husband, Stag, make her a powerful ally.
"Good," I say, pouring another drink. "The sooner we find this fucker, the sooner we can end this."
Shadow studies me over the rim of his glass. "You're taking this personally."
It's not a question, and I don't bother denying it. "Yeah, well, you've seen her kid. Innocent as they come. And Camryn..." Itrail off, not sure how to describe her without revealing too much.
"She's Blaze's sister," Shadow says, like that explains everything. And maybe it should, but we both know there's more to it.
"She's strong," I say instead. "Been through hell and still managed to raise a good kid and build a decent life. I respect that."
Shadow's lips twitch in what might be a smile. "Uh-huh. Respect. That's what that was upstairs."
