Page 52 of Storm

“Oh, I saw the cut, honey. You’re not fooling me.”

“He hasn’t made it official yet,” I tell him as I keep working.

“And by official you mean what?”

“He will announce it to the club.”

“And that’s it?” he asks, scrunching up his nose.

“That’s it. That’s how it works.”

“That seems too easy. What if you say no?” he asks.

“Doesn’t really matter in our world. I could say no as many times as I wanted if that’s what Storm wants.”

“Barbaric! I like it!” Now we both laugh when I hear the bell for the front door. Phil laughs as he walks out of the room to go see who it is. I get back to work when I hear him scream. My head shoots up and I drop what I’m doing and rush out the door to find him.

“Where the fuck is she?” A man stands over him yelling.

“Looking for me?” I say, catching his attention to keep it off Phil. The man looks up and grins at me and the sight alone makes me sick. I know who he is, I can see the fucking cut he has on.

“Nice cut,” he says nodding toward mine.

“Isn’t it?” I ask him. He stands tall and starts toward me. My heart begins to race. I glance around trying to be sure that no one else is with him and I don’t see anyone so that’s a good sign.

“You’ve caused quite a stir for my club,” he tells me.

“Have I?” I say, sounding as fake as I could.

“You think this is a game, girl? You think that you can come around and fuck with my club?” he roars.

“I didn’t do shit that wasn’t done to me. Your club stole from me!”

“Your poor daddy? Are you still hung up on that? You would think after all these years you’d be over it, but clearly you still have some issues.”

“You murdered him. You took him from me. You think that I wouldn’t ever want repayment for that?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

“Repayment? All by your little self? Or is that cripple of yours gonna help you?” he laughs. “I did a real number on that one, huh?” Anger surges in my veins and I finally know what it feels like to be one of the guys in this situation. Anger consumes me as the asshole keeps walking closer to me.

He can keep coming, I’m ready for him. I’m ready to fight.

“What is it you want?” I ask him, taking slow and deep breaths.

“I want you dead. But that isn’t what my brother wants,” he says.

“What does he want?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“You don’t know, do you?” he asks. Know what? I don’t know what it is he’s talking about and I don’t like it.

“Know what?”

“About your mom.”

“She left me, that’s all I needed to know,” I tell him as I flex my hands.