Page 65 of Haunted By the Storm
The fight is brief and brutal.
Eric lunges first, sloppy and desperate. He’s bigger, but his rage makes him stupid. I sidestep, plant my foot, and drive a fist into his ribs. The sound he makes isn’t quite pain. It’s surprise. He didn’t expect me to hit that hard.
I grab his shirt and slam him into the wall.
“For Camryn,” I say, voice low and tight.
He swings wildly. I duck under it and crack him across the jaw. His head snaps to the side and he stumbles.
“This one’s for the nights she flinched at shadows.”
He roars and charges again, but I’m already moving. A knee to his gut. An elbow to the side of his neck. He drops to one knee, coughing.
“And this is for threatening Emily.”
I don’t stop. I don’t give him time to breathe. All the rage I’ve held back for months crashes through me. My fists land faster than he can think.
The last punch knocks him flat, blood staining his lip. His eyes are dazed. His hands twitch like he’s still trying to find the floor beneath him.
I stand over him, chest heaving.
“You don’t get to haunt them anymore.”
I could finish this permanently. Part of me wants to. The storm inside me rages, demanding completion.
Then Camryn's hand is on my arm, gentle but firm. "Storm. Enough."
I look down at her, seeing not fear or disgust, but calm certainty. She doesn't want him dead. Not because she forgives him, but because she's moved beyond him. His continued existence or lack thereof no longer defines her.
I step back, letting her approach Eric's crumpled form. She doesn't touch him, just looks down at him with a complex mixture of emotions on her face.
"This is over," she tells him. "If you ever come near me or Emily again, if you ever try to contact us in any way, what happened tonight will seem like a warm-up act. Do you understand?"
He nods weakly, all defiance gone from his battered features.
"Say it," she demands.
"I understand," he croaks. "I'll stay away."
She holds his gaze for a moment longer then turns away, dismissing him from her life with that simple gesture. When she looks up at me again, there's a peace in her eyes I've never seen before.
"Let's go home," she says softly. "Emily will be waiting."
Home. The word echoes in my chest, finding resonance there. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as we walk toward the exit, leaving Eric and the brothers who will ensure he leaves town.
Outside, the storm still rages, rain pelting down in sheets, lightning splitting the sky. But Camryn doesn't flinch as we dash to my truck. She climbs in, soaked but seemingly unbothered by the thunder that rattles the windows.
"You okay?" I ask as I start the engine, casting one last glance at the warehouse where we've left the past behind.
She considers the question, rainwater dripping from her hair. "I think I am," she says finally. "For the first time in a long time."
I reach across the seat, taking her hand in mine. "You were incredible in there. Brave."
A small smile tugs at her lips. "I didn't feel brave. I just felt... done. Done being afraid, done letting him have power over me."
"That's what brave looks like," I tell her, bringing her knuckles to my lips.
As we drive away, the storm gradually begins to recede, the spaces between lightning and thunder growing longer. By the time we reach the clubhouse, the rain has eased to a gentle patter, the worst of it having moved on.
