Page 125 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

My heart rate starts to kick up, and I feel like punching him.

“Storm, you’ve been a father for all of four days?—”

“I’ve been afatherfor eight years, Shae. I didn’t abandon them. I didn’t know about them. And you can’t be so jaded that you’d think I’d walk away now.”

That shuts me up, because he’s right. I look away from him.

“Aht-aht,” he says,tsk-ing and gripping my chin again. He caresses the dimple beneath my bottom lip when he makes me face him again. “We’re talking like adults. No looking away.”

I suck my teeth. “You have me pinned to the hood of my car, Storm. That isn’t veryadultof you.”

“Oh, it’sveryadult of me, Shae. You have no idea how manyadultthoughts are going through my brain right now.” And to prove his point, he grinds his lower half against me, and holy fuck I want to?—

Stop it.

“Agreed on point number one. But that goes both ways, you know. You can’t use them against me either. You can’t threaten their well-being or safety in order to force me to do something,” I say, and a twinkle of fear goes down my spine.

“You’d think I’d do that?”

No.

“I don’t know,” I say just to be a bitch.

Storm nods slowly with a thoughtful look.

“Point number two,” he cuts in, using his other hand to rub a lock of hair between two fingers on his other hand. “You’re not safe out there, and you know it.”

I resist shuddering. Idoknow it’s not safe out there. Once Storm told me about the Keystone deal, I knew some fuck-shit was coming down the line for me. That’s why I usually stay strapped, and I have a plan to flood wherever I land with security.

“Whatever justifications you’re spinning in your brain to convince yourself that you’re safer anywhere except with me, drop them, Sweetness. You were chased off the road and nearly shot in Versailles. Is your pride worth our children’s security?”

“Fuck you!” I spit, pushing him back. I might as well have pushed against the Washington Monument. Storm grabs my wrists, letting me struggle against his hold.

“Shae, put your hate aside for a moment and listen to me!” It’s the first time he’s raised his voice in the entire conversation, and the urgency in his tone has me shaking and freezing in his grip.

“The CEO of Keystone is dead, Shae.”

I can’t understand what he’s saying at first.

“W-what do you mean?” I stutter.

He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“I mean, Sweetness, that Kenyon Braxton, CEO of Keystone Financial, died in a fiery plane crash yesterday. The news is making it out to be an accident, but we know better. Don’t we?”

My mouth drops open as sheer panic and disbelief war with each other inside my chest.

“Kenyon Braxton burned to a crisp inside the company Learjet on his way to the Caribbean. Except, he never made it out of Chicago.” Storm’s words aren’t delivered with any malice, just straightforward facts. I think that’s what makes it more terrifying.

It wasn’t an accident.

“Storm,” I pull back and search his face, hoping I can trust what I see there—hoping he’ll give me the truth. “What’s going on? Why is this happening?”

He closes his eyes for a long moment, as if my question pains him. But then, when he answers, this new, resolute Storm returns.

“The thought of something happening to you or the kids…” He looks down to where our bodies press together, taking in slow, measured breaths. “All I’ve ever wanted was to protect you. To keep you safe. Please don’t take that from me, Shae, because if there’s one thing I know to be true, it’s that your safest spot is right here next to me. I know that now.”

Now? He knows that…now?