“Your dad was a coward. But you…” He tsks. “If you want to do business, Ms. O’Brien, we could talk.”
My blood freezes. Is he actually talking about dealing with the triad? The sort of shit that got my family killed and had Raylin on the run?
“Step down, tiger,” Hawk mutters, patting my good shoulder. “Let me handle this.”
“Mr. Hawk.” The man turns to him. The other two guys remain still and silent behind him. “Have a nice evening.”
I expect them to pull a gun. I expect more men to step out of the shadows.
But that doesn’t happen. The three of them turn and walk away, the briefcase full of cash the last thing I see before they vanish in the shadows.
“Storm…” Raylin’s voice is thin. A hard shiver goes through her as her brave façade falls apart.
“I’ve got you, babe.” I haul her to me with my good arm, hold her securely around the waist, fitting her against my side. “Everything’s fine.”
It’d better be.
RAYLIN
I’m shaking. Literally shaking, muscles twitching, my joints like rubber. I can barely stand, and I’m thankful for Storm’s arm around me, holding me upright as the triad members walk away.
Is this over? Is it possible?
Storm’s hold on me is solid, strong. He’s here. Paid off my debt. Offered his protection. He really did it, really saved my life.
He leads me back to the car and slides inside after me, drops a kiss on my forehead and whispers, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I am. Have to be. Because it’s done. Over. Finished.
I’m alive.
Hawk climbs in and we’re leaving. “High fives all around!” He leans back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “This was a tricky one to pull. Good job, team.”
“We’re not your team,” Storm snarls, and I shiver harder at the anger in his voice. Why is he angry? Isn’t he happy this is over?
“Relax.” Hawk opens the glove compartment and pulls out something. A metallic box full of cigars that he offers to Storm.
“No, thank you. You deal with the triads? For real, Hawk?” Storm shifts on the backseat, trying to stretch his leg, but there isn’t en
ough space. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“You seriously asking me this?”
“An idealist through and through, huh?” Hawk says, glancing over his shoulder at us. “Sorry to break it to you, Stormy boy, but in this business you have to get your hands dirty.”
“Like your daddy did?”
Hawk winces and straightens in his seat, staring ahead as we cruise through the town. “No, not like my dad. Dammit.”
“You sure you know the difference?”
“Yeah, I am sure. Are you?”
Silence stretches. Storm wraps me again in his arms and his warmth seeps into me, calming the shivers.
“This could bite you in the ass,” Storm says eventually.