Page 28 of Storm's Deliverance

“Rage, call Dixie. Get her to the house,” Hawk orders behind us.

“Already texted her,” Rage replies tightly. “She’s there with Star.”

Cool night air brushes across my face as Dad carries me outside. The sudden freshness makes my head spin.

“Storm!”Enzo’s voice cracks.I force my eyes open enough to look at him. His face is twisted with panic and rage, his hands flexing at his sides like he’s trying not to punch through something.Despite the split in my lip reopening painfully, I manage a tiny smile.Blood fills my mouth instantly.

“She’s okay, son,” Dad says firmly. “Open the damn door.”

“Fuck,” Enzo snarls, pacing beside the car. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Enzo,” I rasp.

He stops instantly.His eyes meet mine, and they are filled with helpless anger and grief.

“Drive us home,” I whisper.His jaw clenches hard enough to tick,then he nods once.Dad lowers me carefully into the backseat, but every movement hurts. My entire body throbs like one giant bruise.

Before pulling away, Dad strokes my hair gently, his eyes scanning every inch of my face.Searching. Checking. Making sure I’m really here.It’s then that I see it again.Fear.My father is terrified.

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out.The door shuts before I can answer.

I blink slowly, trying to stay awake. My gaze drifts toward the front seat and lands on a familiar pair of rich blue eyes in the rear-view mirror.Drix.Something inside me eases instantly at the sight of him.

“Drix,” I whisper,but his expression is unreadable.No, not unreadable.Furious.His jaw is clenched tight, his eyes are burning with hatred so intense it almost startles me, but it isn’t directed at me.At least, I don’t think it is.Then he looks away toward the window, and a sharp ache twists in my chest.

Before I can think too much about it, Dad climbs in beside me, holding a bottle of water.The second I see it, thirst claws through me violently.If I had any strength left, I probably would’ve ripped it from his hands.Dad opens it carefully and lifts it toward me.My hands shake too badly to hold it.Without a word, he steadies the bottle for me.The first mouthful is heaven as cold water slides down my burning throat, soothing the raw ache instantly. I drink desperately, almost choking in my hurry.

“Easy,” Dad warns softly. “Too fast and you’ll make yourself sick.”Reluctantly, I slow down.When I finally pull away, he sets the bottle aside.

Exhaustion crushes me instantly after.I slide closer without thinking, resting my head against his shoulder.Dad’s arm wraps around me carefully, protectively, pulling me into the solid warmth of his chest.Like if he holds me tight enough, nobody will ever touch me again.I curl into him weakly, my eyes drifting shut when his voice breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry I failed you,” he whispers roughly.The pain in his voice cuts deeper than any injury.A long pause follows before he speaks again, quieter this time. More dangerous.“I promise you, he will suffer.”Dad’s arm tightens around me.“I’ll make sure he fucking suffers.”