Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
LILY
Fury slithered through me as I stomped down the hall toward the bedroom. Halfway there a knock came from the front door, sending my heart into my throat. I froze mid-step, but Smith was already moving.
Looping one arm around my waist, he whirled me around, pulling me with him into the bathroom. Without a word, he reached for the knife he always carried in his back pocket.
Light from the hallway filtered into the windowless room, illuminating the harsh planes of his face as he peered around the doorjamb. “Get to the attic and stay there until I come for you.”
I dug my heels in, refusing to budge. “I’m not leaving you.”
“It’s not a request,” he hissed, his dark eyes flashing with anger.
“And I said no.”
His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek jumping. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Stop being stupid. I’m not putting you in danger.”
“And I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for me,” I shot back.
Another knock came from the front of the house, louder this time. Whoever was on the other side wasn’t going away.
Smith’s fingers dug into my arm as he gave me a small, frustrated shake. “I swear to Christ, woman. This isn’t a game. If you don’t get your ass up there, I’m going to—”
“Be right there!” I called out, cutting him off mid-tirade.
His expression snapped with fury. “What the fuck do you think you’re you doing?”
“I can handle this,” I said. “I’ll get whoever it is to leave.” I placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm him down, even as my own pulse raced erratically. “You get to the attic—”
“No way in hell.” His fingers curled into my flesh, his grip punishing.
“Please, you’re hurting me.”
He immediately gentled his hold, but his hand remained on my arm. “Lily—”
I shook my head. “If I need help, I’ll signal you. I’ll…” I glanced around, trying to think of a way to draw his attention without rousing too much suspicion from our visitor.
“Drop a glass.”
I blinked at him, and he nodded grimly, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “It has to be something loud so I’ll hear it. Pretend it slipped out of your hand.”
“Right.” That made sense. “I’ll drop a glass, then you can take them by surprise.”
Pushing past him, I ventured out into the hallway, then yanked down the door to the attic, the old hinges groaning in protest. Dust floated down around me as the ladder unfolded. I turned back to Smith, jerking my chin toward the ancient wooden steps.
He hesitated, one foot on the bottom rung, his expression dark. “I don’t like this—”
“Just go,” I snapped, waving impatiently toward the steps. “You can chew my ass out later.”
With a look that promised the ass-chewing I’d just mentioned, he clambered up the rickety steps into the cramped space.
Once inside, he reached down and pulled the ladder up behind him.
A moment later the attic door snapped into place, and a relieved rush of air left my lungs.
That was one obstacle taken care of for the moment. Now to deter whoever was outside.
Sprinting into the bedroom, I hastily swiped up anything of Smith’s I could find and yanked open the bottom drawer of the dresser. He didn’t have much—just a few changes of clothes and a small bundle wrapped in a flannel shirt. I shoved it all into the far back of the drawer and slid it shut.
That accomplished, I hurried to the bathroom. I cranked the faucet, splashing water onto my head until my hair was damp and clinging to my skin. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it loosely around my head, tucking it in as if I’d just stepped out of the shower.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I strode toward the front door, my bare feet silent against the floorboards.
On my way, I stopped at the window and angled the curtain just enough to peek through.
A late-model navy sedan sat in the driveway next to my van.
It wasn’t a car I recognized. A rental, maybe?
I exhaled, trying to steady my nerves, and reached for the door. The metal of the lock was cool beneath my fingers as I twisted it open, the soft click seeming to reverberate in the silence of the room.
The door creaked slightly as it swung wide, and I froze. My heart jumped into my throat as I took in the person standing before me. It wasn’t the men Smith had spoken of.
It was worse. So much worse.
My past had finally caught up with me.
The sight of Storme hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs.
I tried to slam the door, my heart racing, but he was faster.
His boot jammed into the gap, holding it open.
I was no match for his brute strength. I stumbled backwards as he shoved against the door, and it flew open.
Regaining my balance, I put some distance between us, never once tearing my gaze from his face. “Storme.” I fought to keep my voice from shaking. “What… what are you doing here?”
My mind spun, my lungs threatening to hyperventilate. Why was he here? And how the hell had he found me? The paper had said I was dead.
His eyes locked on mine, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk that did nothing to diminish the coldness of his gaze.“Ember.”
The sound of my old name sounded strange to my ears. Storme stepped inside and shut the door behind him, effectively isolating the two of us from the rest of the world. The metallic click of the lock sent goosebumps sprouting along my skin.
The gesture was both good and bad. By locking the door, he’d essentially told me that we were alone. Had his men been with him, he’d have left the door open for them to follow.
Now, it was just the two of us. More than anything, that scared the hell out of me.
I backed away, my pulse hammering in my ears. My instincts screamed at me to yell for Smith, to grab the nearest object and smash it into a million pieces.
I bit my tongue. If I called for help now, I might lead him straight into a trap.
“Where is he?” Storme’s voice was barely more than a low growl.
I blinked at him, feigning confusion. “Who?”
Storme advanced toward me, the thud of his boots echoing in tandem with my heartbeat. “Don’t fuck with me, girl. Where’s your boyfriend?”
“I… I don’t have a boyf—”
The word hadn’t even left my mouth before pain exploded at my temple.
The force of the slap sent me reeling sideways, and I collided with the wall.
The towel slipped from my hair and hit the ground with a soft thud.
I fought for balance, nearly tripping over the fabric, and quickly righted myself.
My hand started to rise, instinct driving me to cover my cheek, but I didn’t dare show weakness. I casually lowered it back to my side.
Storme glared at me. “Tell me where he is.”
His quiet words didn’t fool me; instead, fear twisted in my belly. I forced myself to stay calm, shaking my head. “He’s not here. He’s… he’s not my boyfriend.” That part, at least, wasn’t a lie. “He works with me… but nothing else.”
I prayed that Smith hadn’t heard the slap and decided to come to my rescue.
Storme’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. He—”
In a flash, he lunged for me. I darted away, panic flaring in my chest. But he was faster.
His hand clamped in my hair, sending a shockwave of pain rippling across my scalp.
I just barely refrained from screaming as he roughly yanked me toward him.
I twisted and struggled, and we hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.
I barely had a second to react before his hand fisted in my hair once more, wrenching my head back.
“Where is he?” Storme hissed, his face millimeters from mine.
I bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. Every instinct told me to scream, to fight louder, harder, but I couldn’t risk it. If Smith heard me, he’d come running.
He would try to save me.
And Storme would kill him.
I squirmed against his hold, my nails clawing at his arm, but he refused to budge. Storme leaned closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “One way or another, I’m going to find out. You can either be a good girl and bring him to me, or...”
He cupped my breast in one hand and squeezed, making my stomach swoop violently. “I’ll make you scream so loud he comes running to your rescue.”
Tears sprang to my eyes as he moved lower, dipping his hand between the juncture of my legs and roughly fondling me. I felt sick with fear and revulsion. My mind raced, searching for a way out.
“P-please.” I shook my head, blinking away the tears. “You can look around. He’s not here—I swear.”
With a low growl he dragged me to my feet, his hand still tangled in my hair. My scalp burned, and my knees wobbled under me, but I forced myself to move, to not give into the pain and fear threatening to take over. Because no matter what happened, I had to protect Smith.
Storme’s grip on my hair was unrelenting as he dragged me through the house. Room by room, he shoved me forward, checking every space, every shadow. The attic ladder remained untouched, its cord hidden from view, and I silently thanked Smith for his foresight.
When the last room proved empty, Storme released me, and I stumbled back a step. Every cell of my body ached; it felt as if he’d ripped the roots of my hair right out of my scalp. My heart thundered as I faced him, fear warring with anger.
“What do you want, Storme?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady despite the tremble threatening to creep in.
“You know what I want.” His expression twisted with fury. “A life for a life. In this case—two lives. You and your boyfriend are going to pay for what you did.”
It was the answer I’d expected and yet hearing it out loud hit me harder than it should have. Guilt assailed me. So Steele really was dead, as was the woman he’d been screwing.
Storme tilted his head, watching me closely. “Did you know?”
I hesitated, debating playing dumb, but lying was pointless. “I knew,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.