Chapter 20
TWENTY
STORM
I was shot and tortured for three days a few years ago. I’d gotten on the wrong side of an arms deal in Qatar, and the people I pissed off decided to kill me slowly, rather than a swift murder. Luckily, Axel and Riale got me out of there and to a hospital in Germany.
Getting shot and being intermittently electrocuted within an inch of life sucked, but even that time felt more peaceful than right now.
I haven’t felt this hopeless, this out of control, since the explosion killed my parents.
Killing the fuckers who tried to hurt Shae should make me feel better. Instead, I feel like a lion pacing back and forth as its pride is threatened.
The plane engine hums beneath me, gearing up for takeoff. I bring the joint to my lips, taking in a deep draw. Alcohol and I are too good of friends, but I’ve been able to manage some weed without leading to excess.
If there’s ever a time to smoke it up, it’d be right fucking now.
My phone rings, and I don’t need to look at the screen to know who it is.
“You and I are not okay. Don’t mistake my speaking with you as acceptance of your actions. Feel me?” I grind out. There’s silence on the other end of the line for a heartbeat.
“Heard,” Riale says, then he takes another beat before saying, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
My grip tightens on the phone.
“You really want to question my decisions right now?” I hiss.
Riale sighs. “I’m not questioning your decisions, Storm. I know how much this girl means to you, but you’re abducting them.”
“Leave it alone, Riale,” I bark, and he falls silent again.
I take another hit.
“That’s my family. There’s nothing wrong with me protecting my family.” Even if my actions would be considered wholly criminal in a court of law.
But when the fuck have I ever cared about that?
Shae ran away with my kids, and knowing what I know about how she tried to core me out of their lives, I don’t trust her not to disappear forever.
And the real reason is….
I watched Shae nearly die this morning. I’m grateful the children weren’t there to witness the massacre, but the fact still remains: Shae almost died this morning.
I shake my head, as if I could delete the thought from my brain with the inertia.
“As long as Lakeland’s out there, focus on that. Don’t worry about my business.”
“You are my business, Storm,” he shoots back.
“Nah, nigga. I’m not.” I draw in a deep pull of smoke. “Especially not anymore.”
Riale’s been my friend, my bodyguard, and was, up until recently, my confidant. I considered us brothers—the stand-in after Rainn died.
I realize now the error of that decision.
“Anyway,” Riale says, his voice rough. “Lakeland wasn’t exactly secretive about the hit. We knew he was gonna strike.”
I hum.
I paused when the tracker in Shae’s purse went off, alerting Axel and me that she’d left the hotel.
Things were intense between us last night, and for a second, I considered sending security after her and staying away. I wanted to give her some space…but in the end, I couldn’t.
My deliberation lasted for only a few minutes, and I received the collision alert just as I reached my SUV.
All calm, sense, and common decency fled my body when we rolled up on the scene—a gun pointed at the back of Shae’s head.
When the bodies hit the concrete, I realized I’d taken the four assailants out in seconds, operating on pure instinct.
Until I got Shae out of there, I couldn’t breathe.
I still don’t think I’m breathing.
“That’s not all,” Riale says, blowing out a breath. “That bounty Axel found? It’s definitely connected to Lakeland, but…”
I growl.
“Spit it out, Riale,” I snip.
“The bounty’s gone up. It’s tripled,” Riale says. “With a new bonus for bringing them in alive.”
The statement goes off like a gong. I know what that means. Lakeland would only want them alive if he planned to see them suffer.
I wish I could take a Brillo pad to my memories and scour out the images I’ve seen in our rescues.
Women, children, young men—all trafficked.
Tortured.
All had unspeakable things done to them.
Lakeland would have added my family to that roster.
Without hesitation. Without question.
I bring the joint to my lips and pull in smoke hard to stop the rise of vomit threatening to spew all over the gold-threaded carpet.
“Lock all this shit down,” I command, straightening and exhaling before taking another pull of the smoke. The joint dulls the tension in my chest, but I’m still anxious. “Make the Gold Coast house safer than Fort Knox.”
“Got it,” Riale says. I hang up without another word.
My eyes slide closed, and I keep them closed as the forward doors lock with a thunk and the flight attendants move to their jump seats for takeoff.
They know not to bother me on good days unless I call for them, so my mood must be apparent right now because they won’t even look at me.
The wheels go up, and that weightless lift when we enter the sky settles something in my brain. Or maybe it’s the weed.
All I know is, as the clouds pass the small windows, for the first time in more than forty-eight hours, I feel like I can take a breath. I know where everything and everyone is. Lakeland’s on the move, but I’m faster, stronger than he knows.
He can try to come after my family, but I’ll never let him get close ever again.
Now to deal with Shae and her response to everything…but I can deal with that particular puzzle later.
My phone rings, and I look at the screen with part annoyance, part resignation.
“King. It’s been a minute,” I say, opting for a bland tone.
Nedrick King rarely calls me. Despite being Shae’s best friend’s brother and owning most of the commercial real estate in Chicago, St. Louis, and Detroit, our paths rarely cross.
Probably because where I’m willing to get my hands really dirty, Nedrick has a stick so far up his ass it’s a wonder he can sit down.
“Explain why my sister just told me she has her two godchildren on my plane, and that the mother of said children was just in a violent shootout that somehow involved you?”
“Always to the point, King,” I say, sliding a bit lower in the seat. I pick up the gold lighter I use for my blunt and flip it between two fingers.
“Cut the shit, Sandoval. I don’t know what kind of fuck-shit you have going on, but I want no part of it. Especially when it involves my sister.”
My teeth clamp together so hard I hear the strain in my skull.
“Yeah, okay. Your sister is no innocent princess, no matter what her given name is. Look, Shae’s fine now.”
“Shae’s fine now?” he asks, his voice incredulous.
“As for the kids: This is a domestic situation. Shae’s on my plane heading to the exact same place as Tempest, Raiden, and your sister.”
King goes quiet at that.
“A domestic situation. How so? Provide details,” he replies, and I stiffen.
“Nigga, I don’t owe you no fuckin’ details.” I smile as I deliver the words, so I don’t start shouting.
“You do when you have me trafficking two minor children across the Atlantic!” he shouts, and I almost laugh. “Princess is losing her goddamn mind. She says you dragged Shae off somewhere and your goons refused to let Princess see her. You owe me something . Damn!”
I breathe in and hold it for a second, contemplating the situation.
On one hand, I don’t trust King as far as I can throw him.
I don’t know him. Hell, my own best friend turned out to be on some weird-ass shit.
On the other hand, King knows a lot of people, and I’ve never heard anyone say anything sideways about him.
“All right, I’ll tell you,” I finally say, deciding to trust my gut and give King some information. “Tempest and Raiden are my kids.”
King doesn’t miss a beat.
“Duh, that’s not a secret.”
My eyebrows come together. Damn, so did everyone know about my kids’ paternity but me? What did Shae tell them about my absence? That I’m just a deadbeat?
Anger at her actions swirls in my gut again, and I involuntarily turn my seat to face the bedroom at the aft of the plane.
“Right. Well, it was a secret to me until about two days ago,” I grind out, and King goes silent, then lets out a low whistle.
“Damn. That’s fucked up,” he offers. I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“Listen, King. Like I said, this is a domestic situation. Shae and I have some shit to work out, but trust that there’s nothing bad happening where my kids are concerned.”
The line goes quiet again, and King finally sighs, sounding tired.
“All right, fine. But don’t drag me or Princess into this mess. Got it?” he grinds out, and for some reason, I feel like poking at him.
“Why do you call your sister Princess rather than her preferred name?” I ask, still staring at the closed door.
“Why would I call her anything but her given name?” King asks, sounding genuinely perplexed.
I shrug.
“Whatever.”
I hang up the phone and drop it on the side bar, where it falls to the floor with a clank.
I continue staring at the door. The higher we climb, the more it feels like my emotions settle into a flat nothingness, where on land, I was nothing but pure energy.
Fire.
Shae’s got some answers to give me, and she’s got some sins to atone for.
But now, in the quiet air, I recognize…I’ve got sins to settle, too.