Page 36 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

LORENZO

I pause to make a split-second decision. Fly out of here, right now. Use five minutes of fuel to get us somewhere safe. Trust Storm’s body can fight off hyperthermia. Trust, she does not get frost bite, and lose fingers or toes. Trust she does not die, right now.

Or, remove her wet clothes, hold her in my arms, cold and wet. Likely, die with her here, alone on the coast.

My decision is made for me, when the chopper drops and starts to sink in the swampy island.

I vault into my seat and grab the two control columns. As I yank the chopper off the ground, and up, bubbles come from the little muddy island, and it disappears into the sea.

I try the radio again, and my cell. Nothing! No coverage of any kind.

As soon as we’re high enough, I nose the chopper back down, and we accelerate, fast across the water. As we skim the near frozen surface, I know there is a good chance Storm will die. For now, there is nothing I can do, nothing in the world.

I hit a switch, and it feeds audio to speakers in the back. “Baby, you need to get out of the wet clothes, and you need to do it fast.”

Storm does not move, she will likely be shutting down. “Storm, fucking listen to me!”

She is now curled up in a ball, and one of her arms falls open. The terrified falcon leaps from her, and it flaps, and climbs away.

“Storm, emergency blanket. In the kit. Get it around you, NOW!”

Several long seconds later, Storm rocks, in her daze. A wet glove then pulls off another, and it reaches out. The hand is already turning blue. It is more of a claw, and shaking.

I feel sick, and snarl, as I point the chopper down the coast and head directly for The Hamptons.

Finally, Storm’s numb fingertips find the first aid kit, and the tin foil like emergency blanket. Slowly she pulls it over, and she finally envelopes herself in it.

It may be too late, and pointless, but it is what it is. As she rolls onto her back. She looks up, and I feel sick.

I want to tell her not to die. And tell her I love her, but I worry it is not the time and place. For some stupid reason, I suspect we will have another moment.

“Just one,” I growl low as I look down at the fuel gauge. “Just one.”

The fuel gauge begins flashing red.

“Dear, God!”

At least if we die, we die together .

Storm and the falcon look at each other in the back, and we streak down the coast making a B line for home.

I fly us ridiculously low, not wasting fuel on gaining height. I also know I will need to drop us onto the deck, as soon as we run out of fuel.

Losing all power high up, is one thing.

Losing it low, and dropping us down, gives us a better chance to live.

I check an electronic screen, and map again. There is still nothing out here. No towns. No cities. No anything. “Fuck,” I yell, as my jaw clenches tighter.

I know we’re close to running out of fuel, and I can hear the chopper sounding different. As I peer into the back of the chopper, I see Storm rocking.

Finally, the northern end of the Hamptons appear, and I streak us over the cold waters.

I try the radio again, and this time, it works. I call Alfred, and I tell him to run a bath fast. The old man sounds confused, but I demand he do it now. I then command him to call the closest doctor and fast.

I end the call, as I fly us illegally, and dangerously low over the Hampton restaurants, and the small pocket of civilization.

Screw them and their expensive wines. My girl is not going to die on my watch. No way!

As we streak over the Hampton beach, I adjust my course. I know we are running on empty, and I could easily take out one of the Hampton mansions. Screw it. I have no idea where medical facilities are, and I’ve never seen one up this far.

I bank my chopper around the mansion next to mine, and I kill all power. As the skids finally touch the grass, I leap out, and I pull the side door, hard.

The falcon flaps and hisses, and I ignore the lethal predator.

As I drag my frozen girl from the door, I hold her in my arms. “Nearly there, baby, nearly there.”

I run Storm straight past Alfred, and into the shower. Still dressed, I hit hot. Together and dressed, we are blasted with hot water. Dazed Storm continues shivering, and her blue lips are numb, her eyes closed.

“Stay with me. Fucking stay with me!” I command.

I lower the dazed mess, and I kneel down, and hold her close. She feels floppy, as if losing her strength. She’s worse than I imagined.

Alfred runs in the door finishing a phone call. “Two doctors on the way. And hot drinks coming.” His wise eyes show fear, and we share a nervous look. As Storm starts to sob.

The only energy she seems to have, is spent shivering, and two blue fingers holding my collar. I lace my fingers through hers, as is our way. “Hang in there, baby!”

I decide the bath must be full by now, and I carry her across the oak floor. I walk us straight into the large hot bath, and I lower her in.

As I hold her in my arms, I can better check her eyes. Storm looks vacant.

I can tell her vitals are slowing, and I curse. I realize I should have flown her straight onto a hospital roof, but what one, and where?

And the phone call and I attempted above the sea, all failed. I had no reception.

As Storm’s body remains limp and her fingers remain unresponsive, I tense up. I’ve screwed up, and I may have to pay the price. I should never have taken her up the coast, or entered her life .

If Storm goes now, and leaves us, it will likely be painless for her.

And I, I will be alone.

And in hell.

I curse the universe for potentially taking her from me, and I curse myself. Storm deserves more.

I hold her close, and I rock her in my big arms.

Storm lays in my arms like a little bird. She shivers and gently sobs. Her blue toes, fingers and nose, are still icy to touch.

I plead to God, to allow me to switch places, and I plead him to take me… And not her.

Anything but her!

Storm’s head tilts back, and I hold her face. “Don’t you die on me. Don’t you fucking dare!”

Her eyes slowly flutter half open, and she whispers, “I love you.”

I yank her close, “I love you too, baby! I love you so fucking much.”

As Storm sobs in the bath, I rock her. It’s too fucking much. I feel a lone tear run down my jaw as I crush my teeth. The idea of losing her is killing me.

I do not want to live without her.

We stay in the bath for the next two hours, and finally, Storm’s color changes. Her core temperature seems to return to normal, and the two doctors arrived fast. They gave her an IV bag, injections, and they have been tracking her temperature closely. They also hooked her up to several monitors.

I remain in the water with Storm, and I keep her in my arms.

The primary doctor remains with us for another few hours, and I give zero Fs his call out fee is three thousand an hour. Finally, all of our work, and the endless hot teas with honey, pull Storm back from the edge.

As the doctor, and I start to breathe, and relax, our eyes meet.

He smiles as Storm stirs, and she blinks a few times, and looks up at me. Our eyes meet, as more hot water replaces the warm.

I wipe wet hair from her temple. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says watching my jaw clench.

Seconds later after sucking in more oxygen, she speaks low. “What’s up with you?”

I laugh loud, but deep down, I’m close to tears. Wiping a wet eye, I look down at the woman I love.

“You really are melodramatic,” she says with a goofy grin.

We both laugh, and I shake my head. “Don’t you ever try that again, you hear?”

Storm kisses my nose, and I almost crush her with my strong arms. “Sure, babe.”

It is the first time she’s ever used that word, and I like it. No, I love it, and I love her.

We dress in old winter clothes that I have around, and after a hot meal and long debate, which I lose, we decide to push on. Storm almost lost her life, along with several toes and fingers. We farewell the doctor, and Alfred lets him out of the gate.

She should be in bed, but Storm listens to no one.

We work slowly, and we use thick gardening gloves, and the canvas ones. We herd the falcon out of my chopper, and we take our time.

It has ripped up the back leather seats with its talons, but that goes straight on my, ‘I give zero fucks’ list. As long as Storm is alive, I’m a happy grumpy A-hole.

After some time, we herd the Peregrine into the garage.

Old Alfred is nervous, but finally, we coerce the falcon into a large wooden box, that was my old dog’s kennel.

We slide the kennel down the wide hall, as it sits on a section of carpet.

Finally, we get into the room that’s next to my master bedroom, and we take a break. After studying online, what falcons need for food, we pull steak from the freezer and fridge.

We prepare warm meat, and liquids for it, then Storm gives Alfred a long hug, with wet eyes.

It’s cute they get on, Alfred and I have history.

He’s kind of like a grandfather, and he’s worked for me for many years.

We carefully open the falcon’s kennel door, so it can walk around and flap in its own room. Next, we give it it’s food, by sliding it along the floor, with an old hockey stick.

Storm demands we leave its door open, and I don’t like that idea, at all.

The crazy woman says it’s important, so the falcon and her, can hear and see each other. To basically bond.

As I shake my head, I raise a rare eyebrow for effect. “Just so you know. It’s crazy cat lady. It’s not crazy falcon lady. You should know that, hot book nerd.”

Storm looks up at me, and she bends one of her slightly aching fingers. She gives me the bird, even if it is slow, weak and lame.

“Address me as nerd. I’m proud of the title, and I make my own rules.”

I now know she does, and I like that she has attitude.

As we watch the falcon eat the steak in the next room, it watches us. Storm and I lean on each other, and I hold her tight.

It gets me thinking about building a family.

I know nothing about that, but likely one day, I should. Being passed around endless messed up foster care families, gave me no sense of family. Or being wanted. Or being loved.

The only person who has ever loved me is Martha.

The woman who told me Storm is forbidden.

I shake the dilemma from my mind, and I hold Storm. As I look at our new family member, the wild falcon, I have no idea if I’m being messed with, or if the universe is playing with me.

Maybe, just maybe I attract the wild. Or we all, attract each other.

After two quiet days around home in the Hamptons, with walks on the beach, a long vet visit, plus two more doctor visits, we decide to keep the falcon alive, at all costs. The falcon will come back to NYC, and live on the rooftop.

But just until his wing works properly.

We decide to soon head back to Manhattan.

We were reassured Storm would get to keep all her once blue fingers and toes, and that’s good. Good, because I’ve become attached to them.

For whatever reason, the wild falcon is settling in fast, and it is not trying to rip out Storm’s eyes or nose.

Somehow, she can get close to it, and it does not attack her, unlike me. Maybe it knows she saved it. As long as he doesn’t expect me out of the picture, I’m willing to share my woman with the bird.

After we fly back to NYC, we watch the falcon settle in for its first night in the wooden kennel on the rooftop.

As it looks across the city from its elevated platform between two eagle statues, I shake my head at the odd universe.

Storm and I look on proudly, almost like a couple of parents. As the falcon cries out, and looks around the city, I figure we’ve done okay, considering.

“It’s kind of like having a kid,” Storm says, leaning against my chest and looking up.

I kiss her head, and then freeze.

“What?” she asks. I must have looked shocked, because her eyes grow big.

“Nothing,” I say, trying not to be a complete loser.

I walk slowly away, and I look silently across the city below, deep in thought.

I’ve never imagined, myself as a father. The idea scares the hell out of me. But maybe, just maybe it would work, with a stable gentle woman like her. I sigh and shake my head.

I then lecture myself, about change, and adapting. I’m already trying to get used to my fast-changing life.

It’s evolving fast.

Storm said what she said, as if we are innocent teens in love, and at some country river. Or we are some sweet kids in a diner, after realizing we’re pregnant.

She had not said it in a gold digger-like manner, or in a manipulative, way. She is perfectly innocent and I…

I’m messed up. I’m also closed off.

And because I’ve never had a loving family, and I’ve never embraced society, I’m broken.

The only thing I’ve ever done, is learn how to produce entertainment. I’m little else, I am my work.

I’m broken, and Storm deserves a real man.

As I inhale, I look back at her watching the falcon in the sunset. Even if I’ve only ever loved Martha, I know I love Storm. Deep down, however, I know I’m not good enough for her, but I can’t let her go.