Page 28 of Chasing Storm

He’s twice her age!

What’s wrong with my mom?

My mom breaks my silence and says, “I’m not interested in him, Joey. No offense, but I don’t want anyone connected to the underworld, whether by birth or intel.” My shoulders slump down. Her arms wrap around my waist, and she rests her head on my shoulder. “Besides, he’s too old for me.”

We both laugh at her comment. Sean and Simas give us a sideways glance but return to their conversation. Elijah offers to get Erin something to drink, joining us at the bar.

I step behind it and ask, “What can I get you, Elijah?”

He places his glass down. “Do you have white wine?”

“Yep. Two?”

“No, just one. I’ll take another scotch and soda.”

I give him the drinks, and he returns to Erin. They angle their bodies toward each other.

My mom says, “He’s a nice man, though. I thanked him for saving your life.” I kiss her hair. “Now let’s go help Teagan.”

After my initial anger toward Elijah, I find myself loosening up. For the rest of the night, we splurge on food and drinks. Laughter flows as much as the alcohol in my veins. It turns out to be a great party. Elijah and Erin sit near each other whenever they can. Simas turns out to be an all right guy. He’s been friends with Elijah since their FBI days, and when he retired, wanted something menial to do, so Elijah offered him a chauffeur position. Simas drives Elijah to functions and meetings, and this gives them an opportunity to talk. My mom flutters around the room, filling glasses and plates, and suggests games none of us want to play but we do to please her. A smile freezes onto my face, ecstatic at how much fun I’m having and how fortunate I am to have these people in my life.

Chapter 11

I stumble into the shack, and he slams the door shut, leaning against the wall, staring at me. His gaze takes a slow, steady journey up and down my body, while adjusting his erection. I’m trembling, fearing the worst. If he rapes me, I don’t think I’ll recover from this one.

He licks his lips, charging toward me, pressing my face against the wall of the shack. His hands creep around, fondling my breasts. My breath kicks up from fear and my face is wet with tears.

“Ah, does this get you off, pretty girl?”

He shifts lower, fingers skirting across the top of my jeans, and my hands grip his.

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

I wet my lips and speak to the wall. “Please don’t do this.”

“You mean this?” And his hand slips into the top of my jeans.

Then his phone pings…

I sit up fast in bed, sweat covering my face, heaving in air.

Joey stirs and asks, “What’s wrong?”

I press my lips to his head and whisper, “Nothing. Go back to bed.”

Shuffling into the washroom, I splash cold water on my face. It’s the first time I’ve had a nightmare about the cop kidnapping me. I whimper into my hand. The thought of what he could have done to me, what he could have done to Joey, has me gasping for breath. I put the toilet seat down and sit, taking drawn-out breaths. What the man had done has remained with me, and I didn’t tell Joey, knowing how ballistic he’d get. I wanted out of the shack and out of town.

Once the adrenalin triggered by the dream calms, I make my way to the bedroom window, perusing the nearby woods. It’s the early hours, and I don’t see anything until I spot a flash of light. It’s moving from side to side.

Someone’s out there.

The light of a flashlight comes closer, floating in a circular motion. My face is an inch from the window, fogging it up. I swipe at it to watch the beam loop around the area. A piece of wood cracks, the light goes out, and there’s silence. I nudge the drape to the side for a better look, standing on my tippy toes. My eyes dance over the forest and driveway, along the outer terrace, but there’s nothing. No movement aside from the swaying of branches.

Did I imagine it?

I remain by the window to make sure the light doesn’t flash on again.

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