Only, he didn’t say a word, so I informed him, "Now isn’t the moment to start confessing your sins, Storm. I’m not asking you to. But I want you to bear it in mind over the upcoming days.
"If you want us to have a decent relationship, one with mutual trust and respect, then you can’t hold back, because all I’ll think is that you haven’t changed one bit."
"Even if you never take me back, Keira, I’m not going to stop working on trying to convince you we’re meant to be," he rumbled eventually.
"Then you know what you have to do." I softened the harshness of my words by reaching forward and pressing a kiss to his temple. "You can stay here for the next few days. I don’t want you on your own while you’re dealing with this—"
"I won’t fall off the wagon, Keira. I won’t."
My smile was sad, but my pain went too deep to believe him. I was learning about all this in the aftermath, but that didn’t make the secrets he’d kept hurt any less.
As I looked at him, I wondered if I’d ever really known him.
Somehow, that made the hurt even more brutal.
I’d have gasped if I’d been alone, as I accepted the repeated knife to the gut that was each secret he’d kept from me.
Voice husky, croaky with his betrayal, I told him, "I don’t believe you, and for Cyan’s sake, I need to make sure you stay strong." Maybe I should have wanted to hurt him, to wound him with my words like he’d staggered me with his actions, but at that moment, he was my kid’s daddy. A son mourning. So, I squeezed his shoulder as I carefully climbed off his lap. "That doesn’t mean I don’t have faith in you. It just means I know what Bear was to you, and that this would be a blow to anyone, never mind a surrogate son."
He peered up at me, all big eyes and vulnerability, pain and distress and need.
Need for me.
Why couldn’t he have looked at me like that before?
Why had I never been enough for him?
Why, when he could look at me like that, why, when he put me on some kind of pedestal, could he look as if he were dying when I stopped touching him, but could easily fuck some random ho as if I weren’t waiting back at home for him in our bed?
Mouth tight, I asked, "What is it?"
"No one’s ever called me that before," he admitted softly.
I frowned. "Never called you what?"
"A surrogate son." Storm swallowed. "But I was. He wasn’t my dad, but he was like my dad." He swiped a hand over his face, then carefully clambered to his feet. "So many nights, I used to go to bed wishing I’d wake up the next day and he would be."
"I know," I told him, which was why I was going to let him stay here. Not just to keep an eye on him, but because I knew what Storm felt for anyone he considered family.
When I held out my hand, he eyed it with confusion. "Why—" He motioned at me.
"Because we need to tell Cyan this. Together."
As our fingers tangled, I prayed I wasn’t making a mistake here. But even as I lowered the barriers around my heart a little, I remained cautious.
Maybe, I thought sadly, I always would be that way around him.
Twelve
Storm
Past
"He did it again last night."
I heard Nyx’s mutter and shot him the bird. "Fuck off."
"I won’t," he retorted, folding his arms across his chest. "Where the fuck do you think I can fuck off to? I live here."
"What did he do?" Link asked, ever late to the party.
"Did that hyper thing." Nyx wriggled his shoulders uneasily. "We were dealing with that fucker, Jonny Laramie, trying to beat him down for the money he owes the club, when out of nowhere, his fucking fists are flying. I swear they moved so fast it was like a goddamn blur."
"Shut up. It wasn’t that fast."
Nyx’s eyes bugged out. "Wasn’t that fucking fast? Steel, since when have you known me to exaggerate?"
"Never?" He scratched his balls. "But then, I’m not used to you talking this much so I’m not sure."
"The fact he has words to spill is indicative of the peculiarity of the situation."
I sniffed. "Indicative, is it, Rex?"
He grinned at me. "Sorry. Was cramming law textbooks last night with Rachel."
"When you gonna bang her?" Link grumbled. "She’s the only thing that puts a smile on that ugly fucking face of yours."
Ignoring him, Rex turned to me, "Lightning, what’s with you?"
I grunted. "Nothing."
"You taking that shit again?"
"No."
"Fuckin’ liar," Nyx muttered. "You’re taking something, prick. Like something from a sci-fi movie."
"So I got him squealing faster than you did, so fucking what, Nyx? Instead of bitching at me, you should be grateful. You got to go home earlier. Got to fuck Lipstick, didn’t you? Why you giving me all this crap?"
He huffed. "Because, fucker, it ain’t right. Can’t walk into a shakedown with you high as a kite."
His words had the jitters rolling through my system taking another toll for the worst.
"He’s right," Link said softly. "He’s gotta be able to trust you."
"If I was unreliable," I argued, "then I’d fucking—"
"Unreliable? You’re as fickle as the fucking weather. Worse than lightning. You’re more like a goddamn storm rolling in out of fucking nowhere.
"This shit has to stop. Dunno what got you high yesterday, but you need to stop taking it before it messes with your system too much."
Rex eyed Nyx with no small amount of surprise, and it wasn’t like I could blame him. Nyx was the kind of guy who said a lot in ten words. He never rambled into mini speeches. Never made declarations about shit.
That he was spooked said a lot for how wired I’d been yesterday, but Prince had gotten me some meth from this new kid who was cooking it over in East Orange.
It slipped through my veins like a knife through butter on a hot day. Went straight into the system as clean as neat whisky, and I’d felt the hype all goddamn night.
It was eleven AM, and I hadn’t come down yet. It was starting though. I could feel the withdrawals. Could feel the hunger crawling around my system.
Not yet.
Not yet.
This was our ritual.
Most of us dragged our asses out of bed to eat breakfast together at eleven AM every day.
Cherry made us our breakfasts, we ate it together, before we fucked off and did our own thing.
It was a weird tradition we’d taken to doing since Maverick’s last leave.
Eleven AM was six-thirty PM in Kabul, which was when he ate dinner. For whatever reason, he made sure to eat then, and for some other dumbfuck reason, we ate then as well.
We all missed the fucker. It was crazy to follow this tradition, but hell, we’d done crazier shit in our time.
"I swear to fuck, he’s been making Sin look chilled when we do our rounds," Nyx groused.
Rex’s brows soared again, because we all knew Sin had anger management issues. I’d never have said that I did…