Page 5 of Haunted By the Storm
He runs a hand over his short, cropped hair. "There's not much more to tell. Camryn ran into Eric, that's her daughter's father, at the grocery store today. He threatened to take Emily and said he'd been watching them. He knows where they live and what the kid looks like."
"He made a formal custody claim yet?" I ask.
Blaze shakes his head. "Not that I know of. But Cam's freaked out. She said he's been watching the house."
"She call the cops?"
A bitter laugh escapes him. "Cops didn't believe her eight years ago when the asshole raped her. Why would they believe her now?"
The word hangs in the air between us, ugly and raw. I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tension building there.
"So what's the play here?" I ask. "You want me to scare this guy off? Make him disappear?"
"I want him gone," Blaze says firmly. "But Cam... she just wants to feel safe. She's spent the last eight years building a life for herself and Emily. She's got a good job, a nice little house. The kid's happy and doing well in school. She doesn't want to run again."
"Again?"
Blaze sighs. "After it happened, after she found out she was pregnant, she left town for a while. She came back after Emily was born, but she was always looking over her shoulder. It took years for her to stop jumping at every sound."
I nod, understanding that kind of fear all too well. "And now he's back."
"Yeah," Blaze says, his voice tight. "Now he's back."
I consider our options. This isn't official club business, not yet anyway. But if this Eric guy is as dangerous as Blaze says, it could become club business real quick. Especially if he's stupid enough to make trouble on our turf.
"We need a plan," I say finally. "Can't just go in guns blazing, not when there's a kid involved."
Relief washes over Blaze's face. "So you'll help?"
"I'll talk to her," I concede. "See what she wants to do. But I'm not promising anything beyond that until I get a better read on the situation."
"That's all I'm asking," he says. "Just talk to her. She's smart and knows what she wants. But she needs to know she's got options."
"Everyone's got options," I say. "Some are just better than others."
A distant rumble of thunder punctuates my words. The storm's coming again.
"I'll meet you at her place tomorrow morning," I tell him. "Text me the address."
"Thanks, Storm. Seriously."
I wave off his gratitude. "Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything."
As Blaze roars off on his bike, I stand in the parking lot and watch the storm clouds gather. I'm not sure why I agreed to help. Maybe it's because I respect Blaze and see potential in him as a prospect. Maybe it's because I understand what it's like to feel hunted, to need protection. Or maybe it's just because I've got a soft spot for kids caught in the middle of adult bullshit. When I was younger, Shadow and his family lived next door to us in the trailer. He and his sister were abused, and my ma would take them in, feed them, and watch overt hem. Then his mom beat his sister to death and Shadow came to live with us full time. I watched how it wrecked Shadow’s world. My brothers and I saw the devastation it wrought.
Whatever the reason, I'm involved now. And once I commit to something, I see it through to the end, no matter how messy it gets.
Another thunderclap sounds, closer this time. The storm's almost here. I head back inside. I should get some sleep if I'm gonna be dealing with this situation tomorrow. But sleep doesn't come easy these days, not with the weight of club business and my own demons keeping me company in the dark.
Instead, I find myself thinking about a woman I've never met, wondering what kind of strength it takes to raise a child born from violence, to build a life despite that kind of trauma. Blaze has mentioned his sister before, always with pride in his voice; said she's stubborn as hell and won't take help even when she needs it.
Sounds like the kind of woman who'd rather stand her ground than run. I can respect that. But standing your ground sometimes means you need someone at your back.
For whatever reason, that someone is gonna be me.
I turn the thought over in my mind as I lie in my bed at the clubhouse, listening to the storm rage outside. Thunder crashes, and lightning illuminates my room in brief, harsh flashes. It's going to be a long night.
Tomorrow, I'll meet Camryn Fletcher and figure out exactly what I've gotten myself into. For now, I'll try to quiet the rage already building inside me at the thought of some asshole thinking he has the right to terrorize a woman and take her child.
