Chapter 25 #2
“Well, she wasn’t exactly subtle.” He smirked, his eyes gleaming with malice. “We all took our turns with her. She just liked him best.”
The thought was revolting. It dredged up memories best left in the past.
“It wasn’t personal, you know,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “She was just a toy for Steele. A plaything. He didn’t care about her.”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay silent.
“He actually cared about you, though. God knows why.” His tone dripped with disdain as he looked me over from head to toe. “You looked better as a blonde.”
When I moved to Pine Ridge, I’d fully embraced my new identity. My hair was still a dark auburn, though longer than before. “I like it.”
His lip curled. “Makes sense. Red’s fitting for a whore.”
His words stung more than I wanted to admit, but anger took over. “I never once cheated on Steele.”
“If you had, I’d have killed you on the spot.” He took a small step forward.
“We all thought you were dead,” he said finally, his tone eerily calm, almost conversational. “When the firefighters showed up, everyone thought it was you in bed with him.”
I froze, unable to breathe. Once in a great while I allowed myself to wonder what had happened after I’d left.
My mind raced as thoughts slammed into me in rapid succession.
I’d read the obituaries; I’d seen my name as well as Steele’s.
Yet for a moment when Storme had appeared on my doorstep, I’d wondered if it had been a ploy.
It was entirely possible they could have planted false information to try to get me to lower my guard.
The men at the bus station that day had most definitely belonged to the MC. At the time, of course, I assumed they were looking for me. But if they thought I’d been trapped in the fire, then they must have been watching for the blonde with whom Steele had been having an affair.
“Even though she could have Steele any time she wanted, she was always jealous of you. We assumed she’d set the fire, hoping to scare you—maybe even kill you. But when we realized Steele was trapped inside…”
He shrugged. “That changed the game. We looked everywhere for her, but every lead came up short. I thought that was the end of it. I thought she was going to get away with murder.”
“Then…” Storme let the word hang in the air for a moment, drawing my attention back to him. “A couple months after the fire I was looking through the bedroom and guess what I found.”
I didn’t dare answer the rhetorical question.
“There was a bracelet in the ashes next to the bed.” The weight of his gaze pinned me in place as he tipped his head, watching me closely. “You wanna guess who it belonged to?”
I let out a shaky breath. I remembered that damn turquoise bracelet she used to wear. The cuff had encircled her upper arm, a brand of sorts. Suddenly, I was certain that Steele had given it to her.
“That’s right,” he confirmed, noting the acceptance in my eyes. “We spent months chasing the wrong person. But now… Now I’ve found you.”
The words sent a chill straight through me. My skin crawled as I fought to suppress the panic rising in my chest. I needed to think—and quick.
“You’re right. You got me.” I forced a smile, though it felt brittle. “Ironically, I didn’t know about the affair until that night. I went home after I finished in the kitchen, and…” I smiled, but it held no humor. “Well, I guess you can imagine the rest.”
“Actually, I can’t.” His face twisted with fury. “She was just a piece of ass. You find out your boyfriend was fucking her, so you set the house on fire?”
“No!” My shoulders slumped. “It was an accident—honest.”
“Your accident killed my brother!” he raged.
His hand whipped out, clipping me in the face again, sending me flying.
My chin glanced off the floor, teeth gnashing together.
The room spun, and my brain felt like it was rattling around in my skull.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes and across the bridge of my nose, and a sob caught in my throat.
It came horrifyingly close to breaking free, and I dredged up every ounce of effort I possessed to swallow it down.
Blinking back tears, I dragged myself to my feet and held my hands up in supplication. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear.”
He lifted a hand in my direction, and I cowered away from him. He smirked and slowly, deliberately, lowered his hand to his side.
I drew in a fortifying breath, hating myself for being so damn weak. “Please…” I pointed with a shaky hand toward the living room. “Let’s sit, okay? I’ll make some coffee, then we can talk.”
“You’re stalling.” One grizzled brow lifted toward his hairline, and my stomach twisted at the flicker of anticipation in his eyes. He was truly looking forward to hurting me.
An icy chill slithered down my spine, and I repressed a shiver. “I understand. Just… give me just a couple more minutes?”
He spread his hands and gestured magnanimously. “I’ve waited almost two years for this moment. A couple minutes won’t kill me.”
I turned away, my heart hammering as I moved to the kitchen. Keeping my movements steady, I filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Every clink of metal felt deafening in the silence that stretched between us.
Storme stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze painting a bullseye on my back. The space between my shoulder blades itched with warning. Every cell of my body tensed, hyper-aware of being watched.
The water finally boiled, and I poured it over the grounds, taking a moment to steady my trembling hands. I selected a bloom from a vase nearby and placed it on the tray.
I forced myself to breathe deeply as I stirred and prepared the mugs. “Let’s sit,” I said, turning back to him with a shaky smile.
He followed me to the living room, and I passed him a mug as he sank into the worn armchair. He blew on the hot liquid, then took a tentative sip. His face twisted into a grimace, and I held my breath.
But then he shook his head and gave a shark-like smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “One thing I’ll say for you—you always did make a damn good cup of coffee. It was the one thing I missed about you.”
His words sent my heart slamming against my ribs. My hands were shaking so badly, I could barely hold my own mug upright. I set it down quickly, clasping my fingers together in my lap to hide the trembling.
Storme drained his coffee, then the empty cup on the table with a soft click. One dark eyebrow watched toward his hairline. “Nervous?”
I nodded, my entire body shaking uncontrollably now.
“Good.” He pushed to his feet, towering over me. His smile vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating expression I knew all too well. “Let’s talk about how you’re going to pay for killing my brother.”