Summer Storm (Satan's Fury MC, #0.5)

I wasn’t willing to just give up on being with my brother. He was too important to me. Through the years, I’d done everything in my power to keep in touch with him, but things changed and he started pulling away. He was always keeping secrets from me, and it worried me. I could see the angst in his eyes, but he wouldn’t talk about it. When I asked him why he was pushing me away, he told me it was for my own protection. I tried to understand why he was doing it, but it still hurt. There was nothing I could do to help him, but there was no way I was going to lose him completely. Even if I didn’t get to see him very often, I made sure to keep in touch through emails and phone calls, reminding him every chance I got that I would always be there for him.

Being without him, I retreated into myself and spent most of my time alone growing up. It wasn’t until I started visiting the local community center that I finally started coming out of my shell. I met some of the other foster kids in town, and we created our very own sanctuary there. We would meet to hang out and play basketball or talk through things if we were in a tough spot. It was a place where we felt safe. We didn’t feel judged or inadequate. We weren’t outsiders there. We belonged.

That community center helped me learn how to deal with my anger and pain and turn it into something positive. Watching the older kids mentor the younger children helped me realize what I wanted to do with my life. I’d been working with the foster care system for the past eight years, and I’d devoted my life to making things better for those kids. Ever since I could remember, I’d wanted to find a way to make a difference, and I thought building a Youth Center would be a great way to help. I knew how much the community center where I had grown up had affected me, and it was important to me to make sure that these local kids had that support, too.

The center had to provide a stimulating environment for kids of all ages. I knew it needed to have a wide range of programs, activities, camps, and special events for the kids throughout the year. They needed to have a place to feel safe and spend time with their friends. It had taken a lot of work and fundraising, but I’d finally gotten it approved. Our Downtown Youth Center would have classrooms, a fitness center, a large auditorium, and a gymnasium with basketball courts. We would be able to offer activities and classes for the kids and their foster parents. I’d worked hard to make this project a possibility, and I wanted it to be perfect.

Once I had completed all the details, I placed several ads with all of our specs and projected budget. I encouraged any contractors that might be interested to contact me about submitting their bids, and the inquiries quickly began to fill my inbox. After reading through several offers, one in particular caught my attention. I wasn’t sure what made his email stand out, but something pulled me to ask him for more information.

He and I spent the next few hours emailing back and forth. At first, the emails primarily consisted of contractor inquires and references, but then they grew increasingly more personal. I even found myself wondering if he was flirting with me a little. He was charming and funny, and I admit, I loved the attention. My imagination ran wild with possibilities of what the rugged, charismatic construction worker might have looked like. With every email, my mind tried to piece together my fantasy man. Our little online routine progressed just like that for several days. I still continued to look into the other offers, but his remained at the top of my list. After all, he had great references, and his proposal was below the budget. And… okay, there was something about seeing his name in my inbox that always made my heart skip a beat. I just couldn’t resist.

I had gotten completely wrapped up in the fantasy, and I just didn’t know what I was thinking. The Youth Center had been my dream for so long, but suddenly the charming stranger had taken over my every thought. He was like a drug, each message leaving me craving more. I found myself compulsively checking my inbox, looking for my fix. He had me hooked. Over the next week, the number of messages increased as the conversations became more addictive. I knew I should’ve stopped messaging him. He was a potential employee, and no good could come from it. But I couldn’t stop myself. The truth was… I didn’t want to.