Page 11 of Whispers on the Mountain

Half an hour later, when I'm sure she's truly gone, I retrieve the flowers and read the note.

Sono venuto per farti cambiare idea.

"I came to change your mind." If she had caught me, she certainly would have been successful.

Inside, I find a vase and fill it with water and then her flowers, but I can't bring myself to set it on the table. My kitchen table has become a sacred place since Zephyr adorned it. I haven't even been able to eat a meal there.

The vase of flowers finds a place on the coffee table, but I can't stay in the room with them.

Hours later, when I haven't heard from her, I open the messages she sent from my porch and read through the progression from her usual bright demeanor asking if I'll be back soon, to worrying if everything is all right, to assuring me that she won't bother me anymore.

I should be relieved, but less than twenty-four hours later, after nearly no sleep and sending her several messages that she hasn't even opened, I'm a man possessed, pounding my fist on her front door.

"Who the fuck are you?"

The man who answers Zephyr's door does not look pleased to see me. The feeling is mutual.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Shouting at the man in front of me is proof that I've lost my mind. I don't care that he's bigger than me or that he's looking at me with murder in his eyes. I care that he's in my girl's house and I'm ready to put up a fight to get through him.

"I'm Hurricane." He growls at me like the name ought to mean something but all it means to me is that he's still in my way.

"Where's Zephyr? I need to talk to her."

Hurricane-- if that's his name-- crosses meaty arms across a barrel chest and glares at me. He's much stockier than I am, but we're similar in height, so at least I have that going for me.

"You're that mafia dude from the power plant, right?"

He's the first person to say it to my face, but it's not like I don't know what the locals are saying about me.

"Power plant, yes." I straighten to my full height, which actually gives me nearly an inch over the behemoth blocking my way. "Mafia, no."

"What do you want with my sister?"

Hurricane. Cane. Sister. Got it. He's her brother. Not the one she steals the flannel shirts from, that one doesn't live on the mountain anymore. This one's the one who used to play pro ball.

Standing face to face with Hurricane Hart, it's easy to see how he could easily have had a career in professional sports.

The last thing I want to do is explain my relationship with fiore to her huge, and obviously very protective, older brother.

"She said she has something she wants to give me."

But I can't bring myself to lie to him either.

6

ZEPHYR

"The best way to get over one man is to get under another, right?"

My boss, Callie, winks at me as she watches me check my phone for the billionth time today.

"Go out, have fun, forget all about that idiot."

I'm still ignoring August's texts. Without opening them, I can only read the first few words of each one. They mostly start with "Please don't..." and "I can't...." and they all came in after I gave up waiting on him to come home last night.

Message received, loud and clear. I don't need to open his messages and give him the satisfaction of seeing that they've been read just so I can fill in the blanks that undoubtedly end each sentence: "please don't...come back to my house," and "I can't...be the man you want."

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