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DOC
Icurse the day Storm Saint James was born as I drive across the city, anger radiating from me.
Isla will be home any minute now, and I won’t be there to greet her as I had planned. After her admission this morning, I wanted to fuck my wife within an inch of her life, and then maybe fuck her some more after that.
I wanted to fill her with cum over and over again. I wanted to tear so much pleasure from her pretty body that she wouldn’t be able to walk for days.
But no. Storm called, and I’m on my way to the fucking estate.
Some days I wonder if it would have been easier to get a real job instead of working for the underbelly of the city. Then I remember I don’t like dealing with people at the best of times, so being nice to real patients probably wouldn’t be that easy for me.
I glance at a text from Antonio, my brows tugging together.
Antonio: Isla’s been acting strangely today.
I sigh and rub my hand over my face before tapping out a reply as I pull off the highway.
Doc: I got called away. Stay with her inside the apartment until I get home.
It’s probably nothing. She’s a woman and their moods can change so quickly depending on their cycle. But when it comes to Isla, I will always be safe rather than sorry.
It’s only a short drive the rest of the way to the estate, and I park in my usual spot in front of the steps.
Storm opens the door, his brows pulled together as he listens to someone on the other end of the phone, nodding every so often before he finally says, “Keep me updated. They make one step out of line, I want to know about it.”
He shoves the phone into his pocket and opens the door for me to pass. “Thanks for coming.”
I grunt out a response and follow him into his office, only stopping to say a brief “hello” to Ayvah, who is curled up on the couch with a book.
I close the door behind me, and by the time I turn around, Storm’s seated on the other side of his desk, pouring two glasses of whiskey. I eat up the distance between us and collapse into the chair across from him before taking the glass he offers me.
“What’s this for?” I ask, taking a sip of the amber liquid. It slips down my throat, warming me from the inside out.
“I thought you might need it,” he sighs. “The Hayes brothers are in town.”
My eyes widen. There’s only one reason they would be in Chicago, and that reason also happens to be my reason for life.
“They were spotted at a hotel downtown late this afternoon.”
“All of them?” I ask.
He nods, draining his glass. “I have Everett keeping an eye on them, but I wondered if you may know why they’re here?”
I shake my head. “I cut off all communication between them and Isla before we even landed in Chicago.”
“And there’s no way they could have contacted her?”
“No. Absolutely not. I blocked all their numbers, email addresses and social media, and I screen all her calls and texts. There’s been nothing between them.”
A smirk tugs up the corners of Storm’s lips, and he looks like the cat that ate the fucking cream. “Never thought you’d be the type.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap.
“To stop at nothing to keep your woman safe. But I suppose even the mightiest of us have fallen.” He chuckles.
There’s a part of me that wants to throw the tumbler of whiskey in his smug fucking face, but he’s right. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep Isla safe, and if that means always knowing where she is and who she’s talking to, that’s how it’s going to be. She doesn’t ever need to know the lengths I’ve gone to in order to ensure her safety.
“Why couldn’t you tell me this shit over the phone?” I ask, draining my glass so I can get back to the apartment as soon as he’s said whatever the fuck he has to say.
