Page 22 of Haunted By the Storm
I narrow my eyes at him. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugs, infuriatingly casual. "Nothing, brother. Just making an observation."
Before I can respond, the clubhouse door opens and Mayhem strides in, looking grim. "We got something," he says without preamble.
I straighten, instantly alert. "About Eric?"
Mayhem nods, dropping into a chair at the nearest table. Shadow and I join him, setting our drinks aside.
"Cruz found him," Mayhem says. "He’s living in a shithole apartment in Queens and works as a bartender at some dive called The Red Door. But here's the interesting part: he's been asking around about Camryn, telling people she owes him money."
My brow furrows. "Money? For what?"
"That's the thing, the story keeps changing. Sometimes it's a loan, sometimes it's rent, sometimes it's that she stole from him. He's definitely looking for cash, and he's getting desperate about it."
"Gambling debts?" Shadow suggests. "Could be he owes someone and is trying to use Camryn to pay it off."
"That tracks with his behavior," I agree. "Showing up out of nowhere, threatening to take the kid... He's using Emily as leverage to get what he wants."
Mayhem nods. "Cruz is watching the bar tonight, seeing who Eric talks to, if he meets with anyone. Digger's got a contact in Queens PD running his record, checking if there's anything useful there."
"Good work," I say, my mind already racing ahead to how we can use this information. "I want to talk to Camryn in the morning; see if she knows anything about why he might be after money specifically."
"You think she'll know?" Shadow asks.
I shake my head. "Probably not, but she might remember something about his habits, who he hung out with. Anything that could give us an angle."
"And when we see him?" Mayhem asks, the unspoken question hanging in the air.
I meet his gaze, making sure he understands exactly what I'm saying. "Then I'm going to have a little chat with him. Make sure he understands that Camryn and Emily are off-limits. Permanently."
Mayhem nods, satisfied with my answer. He knows what "having a chat" means in our world.
"I'll take first watch tonight," Shadow offers. "You look like you could use some sleep."
I start to protest but he cuts me off. "No offense, brother, but you look like shit. Get some rest. I'll wake you if anything happens."
He's right. I'm running on fumes after the day we've had, and I need to be sharp tomorrow. "Alright. Wake me in four hours. I'll take over."
Shadow nods, and I drain the last of my whiskey before heading back upstairs. My room is at the far end of the hall fromCamryn's room, which is both a relief and an annoyance. Close enough to respond if there's trouble but far enough away that I'm not tempted to check on her again tonight.
As I pass her door, I pause, listening for any sign of distress. Nothing but silence. Good. Maybe she's actually getting some sleep.
In my own room, I strip down to my boxers and drop onto the bed, not bothering with the lights. The ceiling fan spins lazily above me. My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to shut down, replaying the events of the day on a loop.
Camryn's face when she opened the door during the storm, fear and vulnerability warring with determination not to show either. The weight of Emily's small body as I carried her to bed. The feel of Camryn's hand in mine, her fingers clinging to mine during the loudest thunderclaps despite her obvious embarrassment at needing comfort.
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to clear the images away. This is a job, I remind myself. Protection detail. Nothing more.
Except that's bullshit and I know it. The moment I saw Camryn, something clicked into place, like recognizing a part of myself in someone else. She's a survivor, just like me. Someone who's been through the fire and come out the other side scarred but unbroken.
And then there's the kid, Emily, with her bright eyes and endless questions. She looked at me without fear, despite knowing I could be scary. She worried about her mother during the storm, trying to be brave for Camryn's sake.
I haven’t been around kids much. Never wanted to be. My own childhood was a nightmare, and I figured I'd just fuck up any kid unlucky enough to have me in their life. But Emily... she makes it seem easy, natural. Like maybe not all parent-child relationships are doomed to dysfunction and pain.
A soft knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. I'm on my feet instantly, grabbing my gun from the nightstand before approaching the door.
"Who is it?" I call quietly.
