Page 18 of Storm

A man stomped over from the red car behind her, his wrinkled polo straining against his round belly. As soon as he reached her, his hand shot out, jabbing a finger in her direction as his voice boomed through the stillness.

“You kidding me? You slammed your brakes out of nowhere!” he shouted so loud it made her jump.

Her pulse raced, and her stomach knotted tighter. She swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made it hard to focus on anything other than the anger radiating from the red-faced man in front of her.

Brook blinked, trying to keep her tears at bay. It wasn’t as though anyone had been seriously hurt, but it was her first car accident, and the shock of it was overwhelming.

“It was a red light,” she explained, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound steady.

“Yeah, well, you stopped too fast!” he yelled, his voice echoing sharply as he threw his arms wide.

The man loomed over her, taller and wider, his flushed face glistening with sweat. His movements were erratic, his hands slicing through the air. Brook’s stomach clenched tighter as he took a step closer, his voice rising.

“Do you have any idea how much this mess is gonna cost me?” he demanded. “You weren’t even paying attention to what was around you!”

“I—” she tried to respond, but her throat closed up, the words catching before they could form. Her breath hitched, and the edges of her vision blurred as her ears filled with a faint ringing. A tear escaped, then another, tracing warm paths down her cheeks. Why was he so angry? Wasn’t this why you got insurance?

And then, cutting through the noise like a lifeline, came a deep, familiar voice.

“Hey!”

Brook’s head snapped toward the sound. Storm was climbing out of a sleek black truck parked on the curb, his dark eyes locked on the unfolding scene. The sight of him—tall, broad, and commanding—was exactly what she needed to be able calm down enough to finally take a full breath.

He marched over with purpose, his long strides eating up the distance in seconds. His jaw was tight, and his gaze was fixed on the man like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. His sheer presence was enough to make the man falter, taking half a step back as Storm loomed closer.

“What’s going on here?” Storm asked, his voice low and calm yet carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. He didn’t shout, didn’t need to. His tone alone demanded attention. His dark eyes swept over Brook for a split second, softening slightly when they landed on her tear-streaked face before hardening again as they locked onto the irate man.

“Back the fuck away from her. Now.”

The man froze, his mouth opening as though to protest, but no sound came out. Storm’s glare and imposing stance were enough to silence whatever argument was on the tip of his tongue.

Scowling, the man’s face darkened like a brewing storm as he stepped back, huffing and puffing in frustration, his chest rising and falling with exaggerated indignation. He looked ready to blow someone’s house down, his irritation almost comical if the situation weren’t so tense.

“This lady can’t drive! That’s what’s going on!” he snapped, his voice laced with bitterness, though under Storm’s unrelenting glare, it lacked the bluster and bravado it had moments earlier.

Brook stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn’t trust herself to speak; her throat felt too tight, and she was sure her voice would crack if she tried. She didn’t move, didn’t trust her shaky legs to keep her standing with all the anger flying around. Confrontation was scary at the best of times, and this wasn’t the best of times.

Storm’s sharp gaze softened the instant it shifted to her. “You okay, sunshine?” he asked gently, ignoring the man entirely as though he were nothing more than background noise.

She nodded quickly, then shook her head, her emotions tangling in a whirlwind. “I—I think so,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “He hit me when I stopped for the red light.”

Storm’s jaw tightened, the muscle twitching as anger simmered just beneath the surface. He turned his attention back to the man, his expression hard and unyielding. “So, you rear-ended her, which makes it your fault, asshole.” Each of his words were clipped and deliberate.

The man’s mouth opened, but whatever excuse or retort he had prepared withered. “Whatever,” he muttered finally, waving a dismissive hand as he turned toward his car. “Let’s just exchange insurance details and get this over with.”

Storm didn’t move until the man had stalked off, chundering under his breath. Only then did he step closer to Brook, his towering frame offering a protective shield. His eyes softened again as he took in her trembling hands, the faint sheen of tears still lingering in her eyes. “You sure you’re okay, baby?” he asked, barely above a murmur.

Brook glanced down at her hands, realizing for the first time how much she was shaking. When he gently wrapped his much larger hands around hers, the warmth of his touch steadied her, if only slightly. “I’m fine,” she whispered, but the wavering in her voice betrayed her.

Storm frowned, his dark eyes scanning her face as if searching for a lie. “Come on,” he said quietly, tilting his head toward his truck. “I’ll take you back to my place. You don’t look like you should be driving right now.”

“What about my car?” she asked, her voice small. There was some damage to the back of the car, and Brook didn’t want to leave it out in the open where someone else could hit it.

“I’ll pull it into that parking lot over there and have a couple of the guys come pick it up,” he assured her, in a composed but firm tone. “Don’t worry about it, Little one. I’ll handle all of this. Let’s just get you in my truck where it’s warm and you can sit down.”

Too drained to argue, she let him guide her to the passenger seat. Before she knew it, he was leaning over her, buckling her in with smooth, practiced motions. His presence was like a blanket of calm, the faint scent of leather and soap grounding her as he got her situated.

“Wait here,” he commanded gently. “All your insurance stuff is in the glove box?”

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