Page 64 of Haunted By the Storm
At the mention of Camryn's name, his face changes, calculation replacing fear. "What? She send you to rough me up? That bitch has been keeping my kid from me for eight years! I've got rights!"
The rage that's been simmering beneath my skin threatens to boil over. "Rights?" I repeat, my voice dangerously soft. "You think you have rights to a child conceived when you assaulted a sixteen-year-old girl?"
"That's not how it happened," he protests, his eyes darting around, looking for an escape route but finding none. "She was into it. She just changed her mind after and played victim."
I take a step toward him, but it's Camryn's voice that stops me.
"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, Eric?"
She steps out from behind the crates, her face illuminated by a flash of lightning. The thunder that follows drowns out Eric's startled gasp.
"Camryn," he says, her name a mixture of surprise and wariness on his lips. "What the hell is this? Some kind of setup?"
She approaches slowly, stopping just behind my shoulder. I can feel her trembling, but her voice remains steady. "No setup. Just an end to this. To you threatening me, stalking my house, and trying to use Emily as leverage to get money."
"Our daughter," he corrects, a nasty smile spreading across his face. "She has my blood, Camryn. Nothing you can do will change that."
"Blood doesn't make you a father," Camryn responds, her voice stronger now. "You're nothing to her. You’re nothing to me–except a nightmare I've carried for too long."
Eric's eyes narrow, resentment twisting his features. "You think your biker boyfriend here scares me? Cantlay's people will find me if I don't pay up. I need that money."
"Cantlay's no longer your concern," I inform him. "That debt's been transferred to other parties who'll deal with you separately."
Confusion flickers across his face. "What? Who?—"
"Not important," I cut him off. "What matters is this: Camryn and Emily are off-limits to you. Permanently. No contact. No attempts to see them. No legal maneuvers. They don't exist for you anymore."
He laughs, the sound harsh and disbelieving. "And if I don't agree to your terms? What then, tough guy?"
In answer, I nod to Shadow, who steps forward and drops a thick folder on the floor between us. Photos spill out, surveillance shots of Eric entering various buildings, meeting with people engaged in activities that would interest local law enforcement.
"Insurance," I explain. "Cruz has been following you for weeks, documenting your movements, your associates, the deals you've been making. There’s enough evidence here to put you away for a long time."
Eric pales as he stares at the photos. "Bullshit."
"That's just the legal option," I continue, my voice hardening. "The alternative is we ensure you're physically incapable of bothering Camryn or Emily ever again. Your choice."
The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy with promise. Eric's gaze darts between me, the photos, and Camryn as he assesses his options, finding them severely limited.
"She made up that assault story," he tries again, desperation creeping into his voice. "Ask anyone who knew her back then; she was a tease, always leading guys on."
Camryn steps forward. I let her, staying close enough to intervene if needed. "I was sixteen, Eric. A child. You were twenty-two. It doesn't matter what lies you tell yourself, you know what happened that night."
"Yeah, you got drunk and threw yourself at me!" he spits. "Then regretted it the next morning and cried rape!"
Lightning flashes again, illuminating the warehouse, and in that moment of electric clarity, something in Camryn's posture changes. She stands taller, stronger, as if the storm outside and the confrontation inside have fused to create a new version of her, one who's no longer afraid.
"I said no," she states, her voice cutting through the rumble of thunder. "I said no, and you didn't listen. And for eight years, I've been carrying the weight of that night, jumping at shadows, terrified of storms, terrified of you finding us."
She takes another step forward, and I tense, ready to pull her back if Eric makes a move.
"But I'm not afraid of you anymore," she continues. "I have people who love me, who protect me. And more importantly, Iprotect myself and my daughter now. You have no power over me, Eric. Not anymore."
The simple dignity in her words, the strength in her stance, creates a moment of perfect stillness in the chaos of the storm. Even Eric seems momentarily stunned by the transformation of the woman before him.
The moment breaks when he lunges forward, desperation overriding reason. "You bitch?—"
I move before he can reach her, my fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying crack. He staggers back, blood spraying from his mouth, but recovers quickly, charging forward with a roar of rage.
