Storm Arrival
He caught my wrist midair and yanked it away from him.
The syringe clattered to the floor.
“You were playing me,” he hissed.
“No!” I lied, heart pounding. “I just—I needed to see if you were serious!”
Oh God. His strength was much than mine and I couldn't handle it.
He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me back onto the bed, pinning me.
“I am serious, Remi,” he breathed, face inches from mine. “This world doesn’t deserve you. They’ll tear you apart. And you don’t even see it.”
I struggled beneath him, every part of my body screaming.
The door burst open.
“Asher!”
Carter.
Out of breath. Covered in dirt.
Asher froze.
“Let her go,” Carter snapped. “Now.”
And in that single second—when Asher turned his head to look at his brother—
I kicked him in the gut, shoved him off me, and rolled for the door.
My shoulder hit the floor hard, but I didn’t stop moving. Carter grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet, and we bolted.
Down the hallway. Past the faded floral wallpaper. Through the narrow corridor lined with old paintings I didn’t have time to study.
My legs burned. My ribs ached. But none of that mattered.
We needed to get out.
We turned a sharp corner and stumbled into a half-lit parlor. The curtains were shut tight. A piano covered in dust stood in the corner. A crooked portrait of Asher and his mother hung over the fireplace.
Carter slammed the door shut behind us and pushed a bookcase in front of it with one quick shove.
He turned to me, panting. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, still shaking. “Yeah.”
He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “He’s not going to stop, Remi. You get that, right?”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“He’s too far gone.”
“How?” I whispered. “How did this even happen to him?”
Carter exhaled, chest heaving. “It started slow. After you left the university. After he realized you weren’t coming back. At first, it was just… sadness. Then it became obsession. He kept photos. Old messages. He memorized your hospital rotation schedules like they were gospel.”
I stared at him, heart in my throat.
He continued, quieter now. “One day I tried to talk to him about it. Just… ask him to move on. He smiled. Said I didn’t understand.”
“Carter…”
“He buried me.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
“He drugged me. Took me out to that unfinished property in Louisiana. Buried me alive. Just deep enough that if I stayed calm, I might survive. Said I needed to understand how it felt to lose breath every time someone mentioned your name.”
I staggered back.
He nodded. “I dug myself out. Crawled for miles. I swore I’d report him, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Our mom had just died, and part of me thought—maybe he snapped from grief.”
I felt sick.
Carter pulled something from his jacket—a switchblade. He pressed it into my hand. “I don’t want it to get to this, but if it does, you defend yourself. Understand?”
Before I could answer—
The door exploded inward.
Wood shattered. The bookcase tipped.
Asher stood there, heaving, eyes wild. His knuckles were bleeding. His shirt torn.
Carter pulled me behind him. “Don’t do this, Ash. Please.”
Asher’s voice was ragged. “You were always the favorite. The smart one. But you never understood me.”
“I do. That’s why I’m trying to stop you.”
Asher moved too fast. The room blurred.
I screamed as Carter tackled him, both of them hitting the floor with a thud.
Fists. Grunts. The dull sound of bone against bone.
I turned, about to run—
Then something cracked.
Carter groaned. Collapsed.
Asher stood over him, chest heaving.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
He turned to me, face blank.
“I didn’t want to hurt him,” he said. “But he made me.”
I backed away. “Asher, please…”
He moved toward me.
“I just want us to be happy.”
He swung.
Pain burst behind my eyes.
The floor rushed up to meet me.
Darkness.
Then—
Nothing.
The storm rolled in fast. Angry clouds thickened overhead, swallowing the moon and casting the sky in a heavy, violent gray. Rain pelted the windows of the Don estate, wind howling through broken shingles and loose wood panels. Thunder cracked above like the sky itself was splintering.
Rowan’s car cut through the forest road like a blade.
He gripped the steering wheel, jaw clenched, his gun holstered at his side, eyes scanning for movement as the vehicle bounced over uneven terrain. Two black SUVs followed behind, filled with armed guards, eyes sharp and commands already given.
“Check the perimeter. No one leaves. No one enters. We move on my word,” Rowan had said before they set out.
Now he stared at the looming silhouette of the house ahead. The windows were dark. No movement. No light.
Just silence and storm.
“She’s in there,” he muttered. “I can feel it.”
He reached for his earpiece. “Callum. You and unit one flank the rear. I’ll go in through the front.”
“Copy that.”
Rowan stepped out of the car, boots crunching against gravel and wet leaves. The rain soaked through his jacket instantly, plastering his hair to his forehead, but he didn’t care.
His hand hovered over the grip of his weapon as he approached the house. Each footstep felt heavier. Closer.
Inside, somewhere in the dark—was Remi.
And he wasn’t leaving without her.
\---
Remi’s POV
My head throbbed.
The world around me was muffled and spinning. My limbs were heavy, like they were moving through molasses. I blinked hard, once, twice—then remembered.
Asher.
I pushed myself up from the floor, gasping.
The room was different. Smaller. Damp. No windows. Just cracked stone walls and a single door. My heart pounded so hard it made my ribs ache.
I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious.
I tried to stand. Stumbled. My hand scraped against the floor. I steadied myself, sucking in air through gritted teeth. Focus, Remi. Breathe.
And then—gunfire.
Distant, but sharp.
It echoed through the walls, slicing through the rain outside.
I froze.
What the hell?
Voices followed. Muffled shouts. Scuffling. Boots.
Another gunshot.
I turned toward the door, panic rising fast. My first instinct was to move—find somewhere to hide—but the room was bare. No closet. No furniture.
Just shadows.
I backed into the corner anyway and crouched low, praying whoever was out there wasn’t Asher.
My entire body buzzed with adrenaline. Was it the police? Rowan?
Please let it be Rowan.
Footsteps thundered down the hall. Shouts. Another shot, louder this time—closer. Something crashed. A door slammed.
My breath caught in my throat.
Then—
Boom.
The door burst open.
I screamed and scrambled back as two tall figures dressed in black stormed inside, rain dripping from their coats.
My pulse nearly stopped.
“Who are you?!” I yelled, breath ragged. “Did Rowan send you?”
One of them stepp
ed forward. I couldn’t see his face under the shadows of the hood, but his voice was calm.
“No,” he said. “You may not know him. But the man who did…”
He tilted his head slightly. “...His name is Lucious Davenport.”
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