Page 125 of When the Storm Breaks
He flipped my phone over and stroked my hair. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open and moments later I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
I was wokenby pounding on the door. “What the hell?” Brody muttered.
I snuggled against him, my back against his chest, my body fitting into the curve of his. “Just ignore it,” I mumbled. “Security will deal with it.”
I was starting to drift off again when the pounding on the door grew louder. “Shiloh! Open the door.”
That was Landry’s voice. “It’s my brother.”
“Shit,” Brody said, sitting up in bed and taking the warmth of his body away from me.
“What time is it?”
“Three in the morning.”
“What the hell could he possibly want?” I sat up and scrubbed my hands over my face.
“I’ll take care of it,” Brody said. “Be right back.”
“He’s my brother. I should—”
“Just stay here. I’ve got this.” He pulled on his jeans from the floor and closed the bedroom door behind him. I sat up in bed and pulled the sheets higher to cover my body.
A few seconds later, I heard Landry’s voice. “You son of a bitch. I knew you were trouble,” Landry spewed.
“What the hell are you doing here at three in the morning?”
After that, their voices were muffled, too low for me to hear no matter how hard I strained my ears. What could they possibly be talking about?
I heard a scuffle, it sounded like they were fighting followed by the sound of something shattering. Yanking the top sheet off the bed, I wrapped it around my body and stood up, ready to intervene. Just then the bedroom door burst open, a crazed-looking Landry filling the doorframe, his chest heaving, fists balled at his sides.
“What are you doing, Landry? Are you high?” Why was he standing in my bedroom at three in the morning looking like he was ready to murder someone?
“Shy…” Landry’s face crumpled and for a minute I saw the boy, not the man. I thought he was going to cry. His voice was soft, his face so sad. “Get dressed, boo. There’s something …” He stopped and took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”
Boo. It was that term of endearment, spoken so tenderly, and the expression on his face that made me start shaking. He had that same look on his face when he came into my bedroom all those years ago to tell me Maw Maw was gone. He’d been the one to find her and it had been left up to him to break the news to me. I never wanted to see that look on his face for as long as I lived, yet here he was again, the bearer of bad news. “Landry? What’s happened?”
“Just get dressed.”
The door closed and I quickly threw on a tank top and cut offs, my hands trembling. Something bad was headed my way. I could feel it in my bones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gearing up for whatever shit storm was headed toward me.
Please God, don’t let it be anything I can’t handle.
* * *
When I walkedinto the living area on shaky legs, my gaze darted to the door of my suite. Marcus stepped inside, James right behind me. James stood by the door, although I had no idea what he was guarding me against.
“Does she know yet?” Marcus asked Landry. He shook his head no.
My gaze found Brody. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head down. “Brody,” I whispered. I wanted to go to him, wrap my arms around him and hang on tight. I wanted him to tell me everything was going to be okay, even though I knew it wouldn’t be. But something stopped me from doing it.
He lifted his head, the expression on his face so bleak, I lost it. I began crying without even knowing why. But a part of me, the part I’d inherited from Maw Maw that turned out to be a curse not a blessing,knew. He made no move to erase the distance between us or to comfort me and wipe away my tears like he normally would.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was no louder than a whisper. “You have no idea how fucking sorry I am.”
“Come and sit down, honey,” Marcus said, patting the sofa cushion next to him. Marcus never called me honey. His face was serious, and not even he could spin this into something better. Because whatever I was about to hear, I knew it was bad.
