Page 27 of Tempest’s Torment

Nobody complains and nobody asks why we're helping a woman most of them have never met. That's how this club works, one person spots something and everybody pays attention.

Savage points his bottle at me. "So..."

I already know where this is going. "So," I repeat.

"How's the neighbor?"

I sigh. "She's fine."

"You sure about that?"

"No."

He grins. "Thought so."

"I said she's my neighbor."

"And?"

"And that's it."

Onyx snorts. "That's never it."

"It is this time."

Savage leans back in his chair. "Lorenzo doesn't ask us to keep an eye on just anyone."

Ghost answers before I can. "No."

"But he asked us to keep an eye on her."

He doesn't elaborate, he doesn't have to. Lorenzo's judgment has earned that much trust.

Savage sits back in his chair. "If she needs us..."

"We're there," Sniper finishes.

No hesitation and no discussion, it’s just fact.

Ghost looks at each of us in turn. "That goes for all of you."

A chorus of nods answers him. I glance around the table. these are the men I'd trust with my life, men who've already proven they'd risk theirs for mine.

Ghost catches my eye. "If something changes..."

"I'll call."

He nods, satisfied. "I know you will."

The conversation moves on as quickly as it started, but every time it lulls, my mind goes back to the same image. Lilah, and the way she was standing in the middle of the path, watching that SUV disappear.

I wake up with Lilah still on my mind, sleep not doing a damn thing to answer the questions circling my head. Who is she running from? Did she recognize that SUV, or am I seeing a threat that isn't there?

By late morning, I'm out running errands; the clubhouse always needs something. Today, it's paperwork, supplies, and lunch. Whitmore isn't the quickest route, but I take it anyway; I tell myself it's because the coffee's better, but the truth is, I want to drive past the florist, just to make sure yesterday wasn't the start of something.

Then I see it, a black SUV.

I don't react; I keep rolling with traffic, one hand resting loosely on the bars. It’s the same vehicle, same dark tint, and the engine's running.