Page 23 of Storm's Deliverance

“Yes, he was angry, and yes, we had a fight, but that is it.” I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Everyone else isn’t questioning me. Why are you?” I press.

“Because.” He shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Because?” I push.

“Because it’s you.” He sighs. “Because. Its. You,” he says, his voice a rough blanket, caressing me.

“I...” I stutter, being swallowed in his rich blue gaze. “I...”

“Hey, baby, you going to take me for that ride now?” The blonde girl he was laughing with earlier comes to his side, linking her arm through his, her smile beaming up at him. Helooks away from me to her, smiling back at her. Her lifts his arm and wraps it around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side.

“Sure.” His smile deepens. “Oh Ginny, this is my lifelong friend, Storm,” he introduces.

I clear my throat, swallowing and forcing a smile to my lips. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to see the dynamics you have here. It’s like you’re all related. Like he’s a protective big brother,” she states, smiling at me, but her gaze holds a warning, screaming ‘Back Off Bitch’!

I just continue to grin. “Well, yeah, but I have my actual big brother. Plus, it would be a little if we were to look at each other as siblings when I’ve seen his dick. But hey, if that’s how you roll, then you do you, boo!” I say on a high-pitched cheer. “Drix, don’t be a dick,” I add before walking over to Maisy, catching Drix’s eyes spark with amusement as I move away.

I don’t make it far before Mom intercepts me, her hands cupping my face. “What the hell happened?” she demands, her voice full of concern.

I remove her hands from my face, holding them in my hands. “Mom, it was just a hospital situation,” I assure her. “Ask Dad if you don’t believe me,” I add before she presses further.

“You need me to talk to the board?” she offers.

“Mom, no. Dad said the same. You can’t go threatening people because of an incident.”

“Why not?” She shrugs. “It works for us.”

“Star, your sauce is boiling over!” Maggie yells from the kitchen.

“Fuck, I can’t fuck up Queenie’s recipe. Don’t go anywhere,” she orders before running off in her ridiculously high-heeled stiletto boots back into the kitchen.

“Are we going to have to pretend her sauce tastes good again?” Maisy asks beside me.

I grin and look at her, pulling her into a hug. “Man, it’s good to see you,” I sigh, feeling like it’s been a lifetime.

She pulls back. “It has. What the fuck has been going on with you? And what the hell was that exchange about between you and Drix?” she probes.

“Nothing.” I shrug.

“Nothing, my ass,” she huffs, grabbing my hand before she leads me outside to one of the benches around the side.

“Easy, Maisy. Jesus.” I laugh.

“Sit,” she orders in a bossy tone. I sit and she sits beside me. “Now spill.”

I give in and tell her, both of us sharing our most personal secrets with each other for years. Her jaw drops, and her eyes go wide, but as I’m about to tell her about Zeke pushing me and the incident this morning, I find I can’t. I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want her to think badly of Zeke or try and lecture me.

“Holy fricking shit,” she breathes. “So, what you going to do? Are you going to end it with Zeke and go with Drix? Oh my god, your mom, Maggie… Hell, all of them will scream with happiness from the damn rooftops. Your dad not so much.” She winces.

“What? No.” I shake my head. “I love Zeke. Drix is just a friend who kissed me once in the heat of the moment. There is nothing more to it!” I snap. “Jeez, I get that Zeke isn’t one of us, and that he’s different, but I wish all of you would just accept him. He’s never going to be a bad-mouthed, overprotective, pig-headed, violent biker,” I rant, exasperated with it all.

“Sorry, I think it’s just they expected it for you and Drix, I mean. You remember when we were kids, right? He would pick you daisies, and that time when was it Billy Francis, or was it Billy Gruss?” She pauses, trying to remember the school bully.

“Billy Gruss,” I answer.

“Yes, him. He lived to torment you. He would shoot spitballs at you in class, trip you up, and during the show he lifted your dress up,” she reminds me.