Taming the Storm (The Storm, #3)

I know why this has broken him. It’s Tru, the woman he’s loved his whole life. The fact it’s broken him as badly as it has is scaring the absolute shit out of me.

Jake isn’t as strong as he likes to make out he is. I get that. In the past, he relied on coke to get him through bad times. I could never berate him for it because we all have our ways of coping. I had—have mine, and he had his.

But he’s clean now. Tru is his everything. And if she goes, then I’m worried what will—

“What if she dies?”

The sound of Jake’s broken voice turns my head to him.

I look him in the eye before I attempt to say anything. And that’s when I see it—the look.

Fuck no.

I’ve seen that look only once before—moments before I lost everything that mattered to me.

It’s there in Jake’s eyes. A look of fear and pain and desperation and confusion are all banded together, creating a darkness so crippling that the person feeling it can’t see anything beyond it. The pain is so bad that the person gives himself over to it. And that’s when a person will do things that he wouldn’t normally do.

Irrational, desperate, terrible life-altering things.

That’s the look that Jake has in his eyes right now.

Fear kicks me hard in the gut. I haven’t felt a fear like this since that night.

I don’t look away from him. I stare hard into his eyes because I need him to hear me right now. “Tru’s a fighter, Jake. She kicks my ass daily. She’s going nowhere.”

“But what if…”

No, Jake. Listen. Hear me.

I shake my head, not breaking eye contact for one second. I can’t lose him right now. “Don’t what-if. Don’t do that to yourself.”

His eyes fill with tears, seeping from the blackness that’s owning him right now.

“I don’t know what to do”—his voice breaks—“what to think, what to say.” He buries his face in his hands.

Staring at him as his body shakes from grief, I wish on everything to take this away for him, to fix this.

The day we lost Jonny, it was bad…horrendous. Nothing can ever prepare a person for losing someone that you need above all others. Tru is that person for Jake.

Some people have the strength in them to carry on when they lose that one person they love most above all others. I did. I found my way to carry on.

Some don’t. And those are the people who have that despairing, dark look in their eyes that Jake has right now.

I lost someone I loved to that darkness. I won’t lose Jake the same way.

I take a deep breath and say, “Don’t think of the bad, Jake. Think of the good. Think of the moment you get to hold your boy in your arms. Think of the moment you get to put that ring on Tru’s finger when she finally sees stupid and marries your sorry ass. Think of all the amazing fucking things the three of you are gonna do together. And while you’re thinking of all that great stuff, I’ll pray to the big man upstairs. I’ll promise to make some serious lifestyle changes in exchange for you to have all that, to have what you were always meant to have.”



I can’t remember the last time I was in a church, not that the hospital chapel is actually a church-church. I take a seat on the pew up front. The place is empty. Thank fuck. I don’t want an audience while I’m here.

I lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, and clasp my hands together.

“Okay,” I start. “I don’t pray, like, ever, which you know. I’m not exactly what you would call religious, another thing you know, but I made a promise, and I have to see that promise through—hence, why I’m here, talking to you.” I take a deep breath. “There’s a girl in this hospital—Tru Bennett. You need to save her. Aside from the fact that she’s amazing, by saving her, you’ll be saving someone else. If Tru dies, Jake won’t survive. I saw it in his eyes earlier…the same look as my…”

Emotions I haven’t felt in years claw to the surface. I scrub my hands over my face.

“Look, I know how this stuff works. I ask for something, and I give in return, right? You might realize what a bastard I am. I’m not great. I’m pretty fucking horrible to be honest. I treat people like shit—mainly women. I use them like inanimate objects made for me to stick my dick in. I haven’t killed anyone…but I wouldn’t put it past me to do that at some point in the future. I have a shit temper. I’m one motherfucking bastard of a man. Case in point, I can’t even manage not to curse while I’m talking to you.

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