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The morning comes with ominous light. The estate is covered in a thick layer of fog, as if an omen for what is to come. It didn’t matter what I did through the night, I couldn’t sleep. I thought the rough session Wynter and I had would have knocked me out, but as she drifted to sleep in my arms, I was wide awake. Even after waking her up twice to try to exert some of the excess energy vibrating through my body, my eyes couldn’t close and my body couldn’t relax.
There is so much left to do, and each hour drifting by reminds me of that. The wheels are in motion, but to ensure we make it out the other side without unnecessary complications, there are things that need to be done that I would rather not do. Things we can’t tell Wynter about, no matter how involved she is.
It’s early when I slip out of the bed, leaving her sleeping alone. It’s not lost on me that this isn’t the first time I’ve snuck out in the early hours of the morning with the possibility of not returning, but there’s so much more between us now. When I left last time, there was love, more than I knew how to deal with, but it wasn’t like this. It didn’t feel like my next breath depended on her being safe and healthy and mine.
The office door is open as I walk in, still pulling my shirt over my head, and Storm and Rayne look just about as good as I feel. Tired. Resigned. A little hopeless.
“Surprised it took you so long,” Rayne mutters, his eyes closed and head dropped back against the lounge.
“I don’t like her waking up without me,” I admit. It’s too fresh, and with everything going on, I wouldn’t blame her for assuming the worst, even if there’s nothing on God’s green earth that could tear me away from her willingly.
Storm nods, the skin under his eyes stained with dark circles as he reaches for the cup of what I can only assume is coffee. “We have to go to the farm,” he says the words we’ve all been thinking since last night. “And you need to call your uncle.”
“Yep,” Rayne groans.
“And we can’t tell Wynter why,” I add.
“Double yep.” Storm sighs.
“It’s not the first rescue mission we’ve been on.” I shrug.
“No, but it’s the first we’ve had to infiltrate something so big,” Rayne points out.
I collapse into the seat beside him and scrub my hands over my face. “Rayne should go. He has the best knowledge aside from me of the way the farm is laid out, even if they’ve changed the whole fucking thing since the last time he was there.”
“Tommy will come with me. He’ll be better in the field than he would stuck here. Storm will stay here with the girls. We can’t have them unprotected,” Rayne says.
“I’m not sitting this one out, bro. I know I hang on the sidelines a lot for a lot of reasons, but this is too important.” Storm stands, crossing the room to where we’re sitting and taking a seat in the chair opposite us.
“Don’t argue with me on this one, Storm. You make most of the calls, but you don’t make these ones. It’s safer for the girls if you’re here with them, and it will be comforting for Snow if it’s you. If she’s really as fragile as Wynter was saying, it’s best we don’t push it. This is what Tommy and I are trained for, and Everett has other places he needs to be.”
Storm grumbles something under his breath and then nods. “Fine. But I don’t like being the only one sitting out.”
“You’re not the only one. Wynter won’t like not being involved either.” Rayne chuckles.
“Thank god she’s not going. Could you imagine this one if she was in any imminent danger?” Storm gestures to me, his laugh filling the room.
I glare at him. “I can’t wait for you to meet your woman and understand what we go through,” I grumble.
“It’ll never happen. There ain’t no taming me.” He winks. The day that man falls hard and fast for a woman will be the day Storm Saint James falls to his knees, and I can’t fucking wait.
51
Wynter
The bed beside me is cold when I wake, and my heart skips a beat as I remember the morning I realized Everett was gone. It’s been a frequent feature in my nightmares over the last eight years, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll always have this reaction when he’s not in bed in the morning.
I sit up and look around, my body relaxing when I notice his shoes by the door and last night’s clothes thrown hastily beside the hamper. Maybe he’s just gone to get some coffee.
My stomach growls angrily, and I try to remember the last time I ate. Was it yesterday? Or maybe dinner the night before? Deciding I definitely need to rectify my overwhelming hunger, I reach for my phone and pad out into the kitchen. We’re still on complete lockdown, so there’s no one in or out of this house who isn’t blood, or Everett and Tommy. We don’t trust anyone, and honestly, I can’t see that changing anytime soon. We’re no closer to finding the rat than we were when we realized we had one, and we’ve exhausted all of our options apart from waiting for them to make a move in front of the wrong person.
Another rumble vibrates through my stomach, forcing me to put one foot in front of the other and open the fridge to survey what we have. Despite each of us being well off in our own right, I’ve never been the biggest fan of having staff. We never had nannies, and when we moved here to the estate, we did have a cleaner and a gardener due to the size of the place, mom always cooked all of our meals and did all the shopping on her own.
I stare at the contents of the fridge and sigh. The milk is out of date, there’s one rasher of suspicious-looking bacon haphazardly wrapped in cling wrap, and one egg. Have we been to the store since the funeral?
“Wynter,” Tommy says from behind me, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
“We have no food,” I tell him.
