Page 68 of Storm's Deliverance

She rolls her eyes before a soft look washes over her face. “We aren’t going to be around forever, and I want to enjoy that time with your dad, and the grandkids.” Her smile deepens.

“Firstly, no babies. Not at least for another four years. Secondly, you guys are only in your sixties,” I point out.

“I’m fifty-one,” she snaps.

I grin, knowing that’s not her real age. She likes to keep it an enigma, and everyone is too fearful to guess. “So? Still young enough to take on the world, but old enough to know better.”

She pulls me into a tight embrace, kissing my cheeks multiple times before stepping back. “Go to bed, baby girl. Drix’s bedroom is fifth door on the right.” She winks.

I shake my head, laughing softly to myself as I make my way down the hallway towards Drix’s room. Walking in without him feels wrong. I’ve only ever been in here a handful of times over the years, and never alone. I push the door open.

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

The low hum of the clubhouse carries faintly through the walls, but in here there’s nothing. No music. No laughter. No life. A chill creeps across the back of my neck.

“Get a grip,” I mutter under my breath. I close the door behind me, the click of the latch echoing far louder than it should. Crossing the room, I pull open Drix’s drawer and grab one of his Black Hearts T-shirts. Without even thinking about it, I lift it to my face and breathe him in. Leather. Soap. Smoke. Him.

My shoulders relax, just for a second, then something prickles at the base of my skull. That feeling. The one that tells you you’re not alone. I slowly lower the shirt. The bathroom door is ajar, and I could’ve sworn it was closed. I stare at the narrow gap, but there’s nothing. No movement. No sound. Just darkness. My pulse begins to hammer.

“Drix?” I call quietly, even though I know he’s at church.

Silence.

I force a laugh, trying to shake the unease crawling beneath my skin. “You’re fucking losing it, Storm.”

Clutching the T-shirt against my chest, I step closer. One step, then another. The floorboards groan beneath my feet as I reach the door. My hand trembles as I wrap my fingers around the handle. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a bathroom. I push the door open. Darkness.

I reach inside. My fingers find the switch. Click. The light explodes to life.

My world stops. Every breath leaves my body. Every muscle in my body locks.

A man is standing perfectly still in the centre of the bathroom, like he’s been waiting. Watching. Hunting. One hand hangs lazily in his pocket, the other holds a gun, the barrel already aimed between my eyes. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. He just smiles. Slowly. Patiently. It’s the kind of smile that belongs to a monster who already knows how this ends. Ice floods my veins. I know that smile. I know those eyes. No, no... My heart slams so violently against my ribs it hurts. This can’t be real.

He tilts his head, almost affectionately, as if we’re old lovers reunited instead of predator and prey.

“Hello, Tori.”

The nickname shatters me. Not Storm. Not sweetheart. Not baby.Tori.The name he whispered while he broke me. The name he called me when he left me for dead. The room spins, and months of trying to rebuild myself are gone.

In a single heartbeat, his smile widens.

“I’ve missed you.”