Page 45 of A Kingpin's Weakness
“This weekend wasn’t enough.”
“Not even close,” he murmured.
I rested my head against the car window. “What you gonna do when I leave?”
“When is that again?”
“Sunday.”
“You killing me, Stormi.”
“I’m not trying to.”
Then silence. Not the awkward kind. The kind where you know both people are thinking the same thing but too scared to say it out loud.
My eyes stared out into the dark, watching the wind shift in the trees like it held answers. My mind wandered to Noah. Where he was. What he was doing. Probably out with the same crew that got him caught up the first time. Jo wasn’t gonna keep him out of trouble. Hell, Jo couldn’t even keep herself out of trouble.
Maybe I should stay. Maybe if he won’t come with me, I’ll come back here, but only if I can get my own place. There’s no way in hell I could live under Jo’s roof with all her damn drama.
Seth and I stayed on the phone for the next few hours. Not constantly talking, just there. Connected. Sometimes that’s allyou need. Someone on the other end, breathing, existing with you in the same quiet space. He handled his business, moving through meetings and S3. I cooked dinner, ate alone in the kitchen, then curled up on the couch with some Netflix noise while I waited for Noah to walk through the door. He never did. At 9 p.m., he sent a quick text:
Staying at a friend’s house. Catch you later. No explanation. No check-in.
I stared at the message longer than I should’ve, then told Seth I was tired and calling it a night. After we hung up, I called RJ because that’s what I always did when the world felt unsteady. I filled him in on the weekend. On Seth.
RJ had a radar for bullshit when it came to men. He liked maybe two of my exes, and even those he side-eyed at times. But with Seth? Something was different. RJ was actually here for it, and if I wanted to explore whatever we had going on, he’d support it.
And that meant something. Because if Seth wasn’t just another “right now,”
maybe… just maybe he could be a “what’s next.”
Later that Night
“I see I’m going to have to teach you how to respect me.”
The voice sliced through the darkness like a knife. At first, I thought I was dreaming but the pressure on my throat was real. I couldn’t breathe.
Panic lit up every nerve in my body. My limbs flailed, kicking, swinging fighting but the weight on top of me was too strong. All I could see was a shadow. A faceless monster holding me down.
Shit. Stormi, did you forget the dresser? Did you even lock the door? My lungs screamed for air. My heart pounded in my ears. A scream got caught in my throat as tears spilled from my eyes. I was drowning in my own bedroom.
Then his voice cut through again, low and cruel. “Stormi, you hear me?”
It was Ronnie. He let go of my throat, only to pin my wrists down, his face finally visible in the pale moonlight.
“Get the fuck off me, Ronnie! Have you lost your rabbit-ass mind?”
His eyes didn’t flinch. “See, yesterday you thought you had a choice. But the truth is, you don’t.”
“You got me fucked up.”
“No, baby girl. You got it twisted. You will be mine. I promise you that.”
I twisted under him, legs kicking at the sheets. “Fuck you. Let me go, Ronnie.”
“Or what?” he asked, grinning like this was some kind of game.
“I’ll scream.”
