Page 24 of Haunted By the Storm
"I can," I counter. "And I am. Whatever it takes, I'll keep you both safe."
She studies me for a long moment, then nods, seemingly satisfied with whatever she sees in my expression. "I should go back to my room."
I stand as she rises, fighting the urge to touch her, to offer more tangible comfort than just words. "If you need anything, anytime, my door's always open."
"Thank you," she says softly. "For everything."
As she slips out into the hallway, I resist the urge to follow and walk her to her door like some kind of gentleman. Instead, I close my door and lean against it, listening until I hear her bedroom door close.
Only then do I return to my bed, knowing sleep will be even more elusive now, with the scent of her lingering in my room and the memory of her vulnerable strength etched into my mind.
Tomorrow, I'll focus on finding Eric, on the practical steps needed to eliminate the threat he poses. But tonight, I'll allow myself to acknowledge the truth that's becoming harder to ignore with each hour that passes:
Camryn Fletcher is getting under my skin in a way no woman has in years, and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
camryn
Morning light streams through unfamiliar curtains, jolting me awake with momentary confusion. The room comes into focus slowly: neutral walls, sturdy furniture, a dresser that isn't mine. Then I remember: we're at the clubhouse. The Fury Vipers MC. Under Storm's protection.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, memories of last night flooding back. The thunderstorm. Emily falling asleep. Holding Storm's hand during the worst of the thunder. And later, that midnight visit to his room when sleep refused to come, when the walls of my borrowed room seemed to close in around me.
What had I been thinking? I barely know the man. Yet something about him draws me in, makes me feel safe despite everything I know about men like him. Men who live outside the law, who embrace violence as a way of life.
The irony isn't lost on me. I'm terrified of actual storms but find myself seeking comfort from a man who embodies one.
A soft knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. I slip out of bed, pulling on a robe over my sleep clothes before answering.
Effie stands in the hallway, her bright smile at odds with the early hour. "Good morning! Sorry to wake you, but I thought you might like some coffee. Real coffee."
She holds out a steaming mug that smells heavenly. I accept it gratefully.
"You're my new favorite person," I tell her, taking a sip. It's perfect, strong but not bitter, with just the right amount of cream.
She laughs. "I figured you could use it after yesterday. Is Emily still sleeping?"
I glance toward the second bedroom. "Probably. She's usually up by seven, though."
"Well, when she wakes up, I was thinking she might like to meet the other kids. Sera and Ruby are having breakfast downstairs. They're very excited about a new playmate."
The thought of Emily making friends here and getting comfortable in this environment fills me with mixed emotions. On one hand, I want her to feel safe and happy. On the other, I don't want her getting too attached to a world we'll eventually have to leave.
"That sounds nice," I say despite my reservations. "Let me get her up and dressed, and we'll come down."
"Great! The kitchen's at the back of the main room. You can't miss it. Just follow the smell of pancakes."
After Effie leaves, I check on Emily, finding her still fast asleep, her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly against her chest. I hate to wake her, but a normal routine will be good for both of us.
"Emily, sweetheart," I say softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Time to wake up."
She stirs, blinking up at me with sleepy eyes. "Morning, Mommy."
"Morning, baby. How did you sleep?"
"Good." She sits up, looking around the room as if reorienting herself. "Is Storm still here?"
The question catches me off guard. "I'm not sure, honey. Why do you ask?"
