Page 85 of Truck Stop Tempest

“DON’T BE MAD, BUT I need you to come to the mansion,” Aida cooed into the phone.

I held back a chuckle. In the past, whenever she opened a convo with the words, don’t be mad, it was code for grab a mop and bucket because she’d riled another shitstorm and she needed me to mop up the mess.

I didn’t miss those days.

Through the computer screen, I watched her tuck a blanket tighter around her sleeping daughter.

“I’m already here. Been watching you girls for an hour now.” Half-truth. I’d been watching them for two weeks.

“Fucker,” she mumbled, then looked up to the camera and flipped me the bird. “Are you seeing this?” She pointed over her shoulder to the gym. “It’s amazing. Tits, I swear, I never would’ve guessed the little mouse was such a beast.”

Beast was right. She’d ripped me to shreds with words sharper than claws.

Through the other screen, I watched Tuuli attack a heavy bag like she wanted to shred the thing. Her form was off. Her breathing all wrong. But the little warrior was on a mission, releasing a shit ton of bottled rage.

Aida looked so animated through the screen. I hardly recognized my best friend anymore. She’d yet to shed all her baby weight, but damn, did she rock those curves. If she wore makeup at all, it was barely noticeable, and she looked fresh-faced, younger, and happier than I ever would’ve thought possible. One thing that hadn’t changed? That damn devilish glint in her big brown eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m teaching the little mouse to fight.” Aida’s eyes widened. “I can’t wait to introduce her to my knives.”

Aida and her damn knives. I swallowed a profanity. While I was happier than hell to have Tuuli in my sights, the purpose for her visits to the mansion didn’t sit right. “No. No blades. Jesus, Princess. Are you trying to get her killed?”

“Hell, no. I’m empowering her. That girl has been made to feel inferior her whole damn life. It’s fucking pathetic.”

“And you think you can turn her into a miniature Ronda Rousey with a few training sessions? She’ll get herself killed. She doesn’t like violence. She doesn’t have the heart to hurt another human being.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before she stood helpless, watching three men rape and murder her brother. Before she was attacked by a fucking psycho twat five times her size.”

Goddamn, I hated when Aida was right. Tuuli needed to learn how to defend herself. But it should’ve been me teaching her those survival skills. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can.” She winked. “And because she asked for my help. How could I say no?”

“Bullshit.” I raked a hand through my hair. “You’re meddling. Fuck’s sake, Princess, stay out of my business, and leave my girl alone.”

Aida moved directly under the camera and showed me her angry face, one hand fisted on her hip. “Whatever you did to muck things up between the two of you, fix it. You’ve been a miserable fuck for weeks.”

Three weeks and four days to be exact.

“Not your goddamn business.” I ended the call, blowing steady breaths through my nose.

Aida walked back into the gym and cranked the volume. Eminem blasted through the speakers. I stared at the security feed and watched my two favorite women walk through basic self-defense moves.

Another hour passed before Aida jogged to the adjacent room, then came back carrying a screaming Lucia. The ladies exchanged words. Tuuli pulled a sweatshirt over her head, then headed outside.

Tuuli and I hadn’t spoken since the night I moved into my condo, leaving my heart and guts at her apartment door. I had, however, kept a close eye on her, from the shadows anyway. Erik was still off-radar, but I was doing everything in my power to flush him out. The guy was a ghost. And I wasn’t taking my eyes off Tuuli. Not while Erik Meyer was still breathing.

Every passing day had been more excruciating.

I needed to soothe my ache.

I needed my girl.

Watching from the shadows no longer sufficed.

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