FULL NOVELXO Before the Storm: Chapter 5
Voices I don’t recognize are the first thing I hear as I return to consciousness. What the hell happened? And where the hell am I?
I remain perfectly still as I try to get my bearings. I don’t remember anything past leaving the apartment with Sarah to go out. Why was she being nice to me again? God, I can’t remember anything. I try to focus on the feel of the room, but the only thing I’m able to confirm is that I’m not at home. The leather beneath me is too luxurious for our shitty apartment or anyone we know. The room is too warm, not damp like I’m used to. And the atmosphere is… safe. I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but it’s all I can attribute to the fact I’m not freaking out.
“I think she’s waking up,” a feminine voice says and a moment later someone grasps my hand. Someone large and warm and almost definitely not the owner of the voice.
“Can you open your eyes for me, baby girl?” someone rumbles and the sound sends shockwaves through my body. Holy shit. I’ve never understood how people get turned on by phone sex, but maybe I get it now. The deep timbre of his words is almost enough for me to drag my eyes open immediately just so I can see the owner of such a voice, but I quickly shut that down.
What did he just call me? And who the hell does he think he is? Realistically I know I can’t just bury my head in the sand and pretend I’m not in a strange place with a high chance I’m in significant danger, but while I’m still trying to get my head straight, it’s all I can do.
“No one here is going to hurt you,” the female voice from before tells me. “Would it make you more comfortable if Storm and Doc left?”
A growl fills my ears and I flinch despite my best efforts to remain perfectly still.
“Storm,” she snaps. “You’re scaring the poor girl.”
“I’m not leaving her,” the same deep voice from before says and I’m equally curious and terrified of the person who owns it. Did she say his name was Storm? That’s not a very common name and what are the chances that there be another one in addition to the owner of the club Sarah and I were going to?
Oh my god. Surely not. Surely I’m not passed out in Storm Saint James’s office. Because if that were the case, I would have to die of mortification. There’s no way I could live another day on this earth with that level of shame hanging over my head.
“Well you’re scaring her. So either you rein in the caveman bullshit you and every other man we associate with does so well or get the fuck out.” Her words are soft and gentle, for my benefit I assume, but there’s no mistaking she means business. “I promise no one here is going to hurt you. We’re here to help, and it would make Doc’s job a lot easier if we could ask you some questions to see if you need any more medical attention.”
I hesitate for a moment, telling myself it’s because there’s no way I’m safe, but really it’s because I don’t think my already fragile ego can take looking so weak in front of one, maybe more, members of the Saint James family. But eventually I decide that at some point I’m going to have to face up to my current reality, and what’s the point in prolonging the inevitable?
I open my eyes slowly, taking in the black leather lounge I’m spread out on, followed by the sleek, modern office that I’m in, and then finally I settle on the three people kneeling beside the lounge. I recognize the woman straight away as Snow Saint James, she’s been on the front page of every tabloid in Chicago and I’d know her face anywhere, even when she’s dressed in leggings and a sweater with no makeup on.
My fears are realized when my eyes drift to the man beside her, the one who is holding on to my hand firmly and yet with such care that it seems out of place. Storm Saint James. He’s even more striking and frankly terrifying in person than he is in the papers.
And the final man standing by my head is so large that I can’t help but shy away from him. He’s at least six foot seven, more than a foot taller than my tiny five foot three, and he’s covered in tattoos. But when I meet his eyes all I see is kindness and it allows me to settle myself.
“Well hey there, darlin’,” the tattooed man says. “I’m Doc, and Storm here called me because he was worried you may have been slipped something.”
I nod slowly, confirming what I’m sure they already know. “Yes, two men met my sister and I for a drink, and then they made me have a glass of champagne even though I don’t drink,” I croak. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed razor blades and without having to say a word, a bottle of water appears at my lips.
“Drink some of this, baby girl,” Storm whispers, his hand still wrapped around mine as if he thinks if he lets go I may disappear. Somehow I don’t think I’ll get past the three of them without them noticing, and yet I make no attempt to pull my hand away. His touch is comforting despite how terrified I am to be touched by a man with the reputation of Storm Saint James.
I swallow down half the bottle before turning my head slightly to tell him I’ve had enough. I’m not sure someone as clumsy and awkward as me should be saying anything to someone like him because there’s no chance I’m not going to put my foot in it.
“Good girl.” He smiles and I swear to God one of my ovaries exploded at the sight. There’s little wonder why he’s considered Chicago’s most eligible bachelor because he’s tall, well built, perfectly chiseled cheekbones with today’s shadow across his sharp jaw, and the most haunting gray eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. He doesn’t look real.
“Can you tell us your name, darlin’?” Doc asks and I drag my attention to the large, frankly kinda scary, man.
“Ayvah,” I whisper.
Storm repeats my name under his breath as if trying it out for size, before his eyes sweep over me again, but I can’t allow myself to think too much about that and what it may or may not mean. A man like him would eat me alive, and with how fucked up my life already is, that’s the last thing I need right now.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ayvah.” Doc’s lips curve up into a small smile that looks out of place on his face. “Would it be okay if I ask you a few questions about what happened tonight?”
I nod slowly, brushing my eyes over each person in the room. I should be a lot more freaked out than I am, and although my heart is ricocheting around my chest like a ping pong ball, and I’m pretty sure the hand that Storm is holding is sweaty as hell, I feel relatively at ease for someone who was almost sold by her own family tonight. Or I suppose I was. Only bits and pieces of my memory are coming back, and those fragments are spotty at best.
“Okay, let’s start easy shall we? Do you know the names of the men you and your sister met tonight?”
“Yes. Adam and Andrew. My sister didn’t tell me we were meeting anyone until she steered us toward the booth as soon as we stepped foot in the club,” I tell them.
Storm closes his eyes and tension tugs at his already tight jaw. “Are you and your sister…” He spits the next word. “Close?”
“No. She’s never really liked me much.” I look down at where our hands are locked. “Neither have my parents.”
Snow winces at my words but doesn’t say anything. I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t know what to say if someone told me their family hated them so much they were willing to sell them off to the highest bidder.
Storm blows out a breath before looking up at Doc, and then back to me. “Do you know what your sister’s intention was when she brought you here today?”
I close my eyes and suck in a breath. Thinking the answer is one thing, but admitting it to someone else, telling them the truth, it’s a whole other story altogether. “Yes. After I started to lose consciousness and control of my body they were talking about… selling me. They said they were going to take me somewhere so they could see how much I would be worth.” I choke on the words as tears gather in my eyes. Fuck. What a sad tale. How the hell did I find myself here?
Storm’s hand slips from mine and by the time I drag my eyes from where they were focused on our hands, he’s pacing up and down the room like a caged animal. The anger vibrating through his already tense body should scare me, but I find myself wanting to comfort him.
What is it about Storm Saint James that calls to me like no one ever has before?