Page 100 of The Spider & the Storm

“Not … that. I mean, crying. I shouldn't—”

“No,” I interjected. “Don't ever apologize for that.”

The owl flew overhead. And maybe I was seeing things, but I could swear it had peered down at me before it passed.

Stormy cleared her throat and sniffled again, taking a step back and wiping her palms against her sweatshirt. “I honestly can't even remember the last time I reallycried. Probably not since Soldier was in the hospital and—”

“Soldier?” I looked back to her as the bird disappeared from my sight.

Stormy brushed a few strands of hair from off her forehead as she nodded. “Sorry. Um … my brother-in-law, his name is Soldier. He almost … well, actually, hediddie several years ago, but they brought him back.”

“Wow.” I blinked, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets. Unsure of what else to say.

Where I had come from, nobody was brought back from the dead. Nobody was saved.

They only left, disappearing to vanish from my life altogether.

“Yeah, it's a, uh … it's a long story.” She shifted from one foot to another to hide her discomfort as she lifted her hand and waved the topic away. “Anyway, that was probably the last time I cried, so I guess I was due or something.”

She tried to force a laugh, leaving the moment as awkward as we both seemed to feel. But I guessed that was what happened when two souls were stripped naked after being wrapped in impenetrable armor for so long.

She saw me, and I knew now that I saw her.

Without another word, I turned to head for the door, still spooked by the owl, still reeling from words I'd wished Luke had never said, still remembering the empty foil cigarette pack.Stormy followed just as quietly as I fished my keys from my pocket and unlocked the front door.

I pushed it open and gestured inside. “Ladies first.”

She laughed, smoky and hoarse. “Such a gentleman when you're not threatening to slit my throat.”

But she walked inside, and I followed, closing the door behind me and ensuring twice that it was locked before turning to watch her assess my small but cozy cottage.

Stormy walked slowly around the living room, taking in the wingback chairs in front of the stone fireplace, sliding her fingertips over the upholstery.

“No couch?” she asked, sweeping her gaze around to answer her own question.

“Never saw a reason to have one,” I admitted as fantasies of laying her down filled my head.

“Why have two chairs then?”

“Sometimes, my friend Ivan stops by.”

Stormy looked up to meet my eye, one side of her mouth lifting in a barely there smile. “You have a second chair just for him?”

I shrugged before nodding.

“That doesn't sound like the kinda thing a cold, axe-wielding murderer would do.”

My fingers twitched, and I could feel the chilled handle of the knife in my hand. But even though I couldn't force a smile to my lips, I chuckled brusquely and dropped my gaze to the floor, relieved I didn't see a pool of blood at my feet.

“No. Guess not.”

“Honestly, I'm surprised you have a friend at all.”

I lifted my gaze to find her unabashedly raking her eyes over my small desk and the clock on the wall that had once belonged to my mother.

“He was kinda built into the job,” I explained, my voice roughened by memories I wished I could erase. “He was the caretaker before me.”

She turned, her head cocked and her smile growing affectionate. “And you stayed in touch?”

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