Page 75 of Like a Hurricane

“Because you never would have allowed it.”

“Don’t do that again,” I rasp against her cold lips, her breath warm against my own.

“You’re afraid.”

“Yes, little storm, I am afraid of heights.”

“And I am afraid of the dark,” she tells me on a whisper that is almost stolen by the howling wind, “There is no shame in admitting fear, Everett. Fear keeps us alive.”

“Fear can also get you killed, princess.”

“Fear makes you human,” she argues.

“Fear makes you human,” I agree, curling my finger beneath her chin to tilt her face to mine, “Please stay away from the edge.”

“Yes, sir,” She teases lightly, pressing her lips to mine, “It’s so beautiful up here.”

“I’m not sure it’s the view that makes it beautiful,” I say, “It’s more the company.”

“Charming as always.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

Amount of 500,000 (five hundred thousand) US Dollars deposited to Everett Walker Avery by Farrow Industries.

“Five hundred thousand,” Arryn blows out a breath, “Damn I’m expensive.”

The sickness that had churned the moment I noticed the notification on the laptop, dissipates when I look up and notice the amusement on Arryn’s face. This should be morbid and sickening and yet she found it fucking funny.

“What do you want to do with it?” I ask.

“The money?”

I nod, picking up her hand that was resting on the tabletop, running my fingers down each one of hers.

“Charity?” She says, “I’d like to donate it.”

“Just pick one or several, I’ll sort the rest.” I explain.

“So now we plan our epic come back, right?” Her eyes twinkle, “We can go back.”

“I’ll watch for the Ware’s,” I tell her, “When they show themselves, we can make our move. Without them we can’t go back. We need to move quick to end them both before they catch wind that you’re still alive.”

“How are you going to know?”

“I have my ways, princess,” I kiss the center of her palm, “Don’t worry about that.”

“So, what now?”

“We can continue as we are, we are safe here for now. Snow is coming though; we’ll be better off in the town.”

We make it to Torin’s house by the time the sun sets and clouds have rolled in from the ocean, bringing with it icy winds and the promise of more snow. Everything was calm, despite the turbulent sea that was determined to batter this tiny island, everything had gone to plan. They had believed those images, believed Arryn was dead somewhere, shot in the back of the head and left to rot. They didn’t much care what happened to the body after the job was complete, some add extra instructions, like requiring clean up or making it look like an accident but there was just one instruction and that was to kill her and leave her.

I was glad for it since most extras required extra proof, like a hole in the ground, the body wrapped in tarp and thrown inside and I think if we had had to go to those lengths I would have likely gone mad.

But my bank was sitting five hundred thousand dollars heavier until I could make the deposits to charity like Arryn had asked.

We’re laying in bed later that night when Arryn turns to me, the soft light being emitted from the lamp kissing the side of her face, “Farrow Industries.” She says quietly.

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