Page 15 of Haunted By the Storm
Whatever it is, I need to get it under control. This arrangement is about protection, nothing more. The last thing Camryn needs right now is another complication in her life.
And the last thing I need is to care too much about a woman who's only letting me into her life because she has no other choice.
CHAPTER FIVE
camryn
The room is nicer than I expected.
When Storm said we'd be staying at the clubhouse, I'd pictured something out of a crime movie: dark, dingy, with questionable stains on the carpet and the lingering smell of stale beer. But this space is clean and surprisingly homey, with freshly painted walls, comfortable furniture, and even a few framed prints of motorcycles hanging in the living area.
"The bathroom's through here," Eda says, leading us to a door across the room. "We stocked it with toiletries. Let me know if you need anything else."
Emily trails behind us, her eyes wide as she takes everything in. I can tell she's tired from the day's excitement, but she's putting on a brave face. My stomach twists with guilt. She shouldn't have to be brave. She should be at home, following her normal routine, not hiding out in a biker clubhouse because her biological father has suddenly decided he wants to insert himself into our lives.
"This is really thoughtful," I tell Eda, gesturing to the fluffy towels and new toothbrushes arranged on the bathroom counter. "Thank you for going to all this trouble."
She waves off my gratitude. "It's nothing. We take care of our own here."
I want to point out that we're not "their own", that we're strangers who've been thrust into their world by circumstances beyond our control, but I bite my tongue. She's being kind, and that's not something I can afford to reject right now.
"How long have you been with the club?" I ask instead, following her back to the living room.
"About eight years," she says. "Ace and I met when the club rescued me from a bad situation." She glances at Emily, who's wandered over to examine a shelf of DVDs in the corner, and lowers her voice. "I had an abusive father who didn’t like losing his control over me."
Cold dread washes over me. "I'm sorry. That must have been terrifying."
She nods, her eyes reflecting an understanding that only comes from shared experience. "It was. But Ace and the brothers made sure he never bothered me again. That's what they do: protect the people they care about, no matter what."
I want to believe her. I want to believe these intimidating men with their leather cuts and tattoos are the heroes she's painting them out to be. But I've spent too long looking over my shoulder, building barriers around my daughter and myself, to trust so easily.
"I should probably get Emily settled," I say, suddenly needing some space to process everything. "It's been a long day."
"Of course," Eda says, heading toward the door. "There's food in the refrigerator, but if you're hungry, there's always something cooking downstairs. And the brothers are always around. If you need anything, just ask."
I manage a smile. "Thank you again."
Once she's gone, I sink onto the sofa, the enormity of our situation finally hitting me. We're hiding out in a motorcycleclub. I've agreed to pretend to date a man I barely know; a man whose road name is Storm, of all things,and somewhere out there, Eric is looking for us, planning God knows what.
"Mom?" Emily's voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. "Can I watch a movie?"
I look up to find her holding a DVD case—some animated film I don't recognize. "Sure, honey. But just one, okay? It's getting late."
She nods solemnly and brings me the case. I help her set up the TV, grateful for the distraction. Once she's settled on the couch, I take the opportunity to explore the renovated room more thoroughly.
The second bedroom is set up for Emily, with a twin bed covered in a colorful quilt and a small nightstand. Someone has placed a stuffed animal, a fluffy white rabbit that looks new, on the pillow. The gesture brings unexpected tears to my eyes.
The main bedroom is simple but comfortable, with a queen-sized bed, dresser, and a window overlooking the compound below.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. I check on Emily, who's engrossed in her movie, before answering.
Storm stands in the hallway, his massive frame filling the doorway. He’s still wearing a black t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest and dark jeans that hang low on his hips.
"Hey," he says, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Just wanted to check in, make sure you're settling okay."
"We're fine," I say, stepping back to let him in. "Emily's watching a movie."
He nods, following me into the living room. Emily looks up at his entrance, her face brightening.
