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Storm feels like home.

“Storm, we need to talk.”

The smile falls off his face.

“I mean?—”

“No, it’s…you’re right, Sweetness,” he says, emotions flashing across his face so quickly I can’t register all of them.

“Right,” I say, suddenly very nervous. Where do I even start?

“I’ve been thinking about everything and…” I gape at him, take in his nervous expression, and scramble to put what feels like nonsense into order and past my lips.

“Could I tell you what I’ve been thinking about for the last few weeks?” he asks, biting his bottom lip. I nod because I’m just standing here, staring at him and saying nothing.

“When I learned that someone took you, the thought that kept running in my brain was that I failed.”

My eyebrows come together, and I take a step closer to him, wanting to reassure him.

“You didn’t tell him to do what he did. How could you have known Zane would go off the deep end?” I say, conviction filling my tone.

Storm shakes his head.

“Shae, that’s not even relevant, because the fact is, it’s my job to be prepared. I’m the one who’s supposed to keep their head on a swivel, constantly looking for threats and warding them off before they become an issue. I underestimated my opponent, and as a result, I failed.”

He runs his thumb over the back of my hand.

“Again,” he adds.

“When did you fail the first time?” I ask gently.

“When I let my pride and fear of Lakeland put us through Hell.” He squeezes my hand as if it were a reflex. “He wanted me to suffer to the highest extent. Instead of giving me a quick, clean death, he wanted me to die every day, bit by bit, until there was nothing left of me. And the fucked thing is…I let him. I let him win because I sent you away.”

He looks down at that confession, and tears flow down my face one after the other. I’m helpless to stop them.

“Shae, you’ll never know the agony of pushing you out, cutting you off. When we?—”

He stops, looking past my shoulder and to the half-finished art.

“When I pulled you into my apartment and fucked you like that, I was so selfish. I knew it was selfish, but the thought of not being able to feel you, hold you one last time, I was sure I’d die on the spot. I knew that would happen, and I needed to be strong. The only thing is, I now recognize that was the weakest goddamn decision I could have ever made. And it’s cost us so much. It cost you the ability to trust me and believe me when I say my whole life is dedicated to you and to our family.”

With gentle movements, he wipes my cheeks one after the other, catching my tears on his fingertips. His hands don’t linger long on my face, returning to press our palms together.

“You wouldn’t be wrong to have doubts, Shae. You wouldn’t be wrong to wonder when the next shoe will drop, when the man who so cruelly pushed you out will return. Your apprehension is completely understandable. Logic dictates you should get as far away from me as you can for self-preservation. And yet, here I’ve been asking you to disregard all sense, data, and history and trust the man who broke your trust. It’s a big, probably unfair, ask.”

I search his face, starting to panic. Is he…has he changed his mind?

“Tempest and Raiden…thank you for them, Shae. Thank you so much for the gift of my children.” His expression changes, gets lighter, almost as if merely mentioning our kids takes him to a brighter place. “And I understand you wanting to protect them. Tems told me about your plans to move back to your condo.”

I rear back. Wait, what?

“I’d prefer it if you were to stay here, but if that’s unpalatable, I have only two requests: First, we get you set with extensive security, more security than you and the kids will likely want, but it’s necessary right now.”

The anxious confusion I’d wrestled with for the last minute transforms into amusement at Tempest’s machinations. When did I tell her we’re moving back to the condo? Never, that’s when.

“And the second thing?” I ask, still holding his hands.

He takes a deep breath.