Page 41 of Haunted By the Storm
We stand there for a moment, close enough that I can smell the sweet scent of her perfume and see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
"Eric showing up like that," I say, breaking the silence. "You handled it well."
She looks down, a strand of hair falling across her face. "I was terrified," she confesses. "Not for myself, but for Emily. The thought of her seeing him, of him trying to talk to her..."
"That wasn't going to happen," I say firmly. "Not while I'm around."
Her eyes lift to mine, searching. "He'll try again, won't he? Him or Cantlay, or both."
"Probably," I acknowledge, seeing no point in lying to her. "But we're ready for them."
"What does that mean, exactly?" she asks, a slight edge to her voice. "What happens next?"
I consider how much to tell her. She deserves honesty, but she doesn't need all the bloody details of what's to come.
"It means we're going to resolve the situation," I say carefully. "Permanently."
"By killing them?" she challenges, her voice barely above a whisper.
"If it comes to that," I admit. "But that's not the first option. Cantlay's a businessman, albeit a shady one. There are other ways to handle him."
She wraps her arms around herself—a defensive gesture I've come to recognize. "I don't want anyone dying because of me. Even Eric."
Of course she doesn't. Despite everything the bastard did to her, despite the fear he's caused her and the threat he poses to Emily, Camryn's not the kind of person who wishes death on others. It's one of the many things I admire about her.
"I understand that," I tell her. "And I'll respect it as much as I can. But I need you to understand something too." I step closer, close enough that I have to look down to meet her eyes. "I will do whatever it takes to keep you and Emily safe. If that means blood on my hands, then so be it."
She doesn't flinch away from the statement, just holds my gaze steadily. "You've already got blood on your hands, don't you?" It's not really a question.
"Yes," I answer anyway. "More than I care to admit."
"Does it bother you?" she asks, her expression unreadable.
"Some of it," I say honestly. "Not all. Some people deserved exactly what they got."
"And who decides that? You?"
"Sometimes me. Sometimes the club. Sometimes the universe." I shrug. "I'm not claiming to be judge and jury, Camryn. I'm just a man who's good at certain things. Violence happens to be one of them."
"You're good at other things too," she says softly. "I've seen how you are with Emily. How you listen to her, respect her. Most men don't bother."
The compliment catches me off guard. "She makes it easy. She's a great kid."
"Because of you," she continues, as if I hadn't spoken, "Emily had fun tonight despite everything. She felt safe enough to fall asleep in your arms. That matters, Storm. That matters a lot."
There's a weight to her words that feels significant, like she's trying to tell me something beyond the obvious.
"What are you saying, Camryn?"
She takes a deep breath, seeming to gather her courage. "I'm saying that there's more to you than violence, more than the road name and the reputation and the blood on your hands. And I see that. Emily sees it too."
My heart pounds in my chest, a feeling of vulnerability sweeping over me that's more terrifying than facing down armed enemies. "And what do you think of what you see?"
She steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body and smell the hint of chocolate and punch on her breath. "I think," she says slowly, deliberately, "that I'm tired of fighting what's happening between us."
Before I can process her words, she rises on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. Unlike our first kiss, which was tentative and questioning, this one is sure, determined. Herhands slide up my chest to my shoulders, fingers tangling in my hair as she deepens the kiss.
I respond instantly, my arms encircling her waist, pulling her flush against me. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat that sends heat coursing through my veins. I walk her backward until she bumps against the wall, which I use to support us both as the kiss intensifies.
