HURRICANE (Beasts of Prey Book 2)

by LC Lehesaho

  Then he fed me pancakes for breakfast, which the housekeeper brought, just like he always did when I was sick as a kid. When I grew up, it turned into a tradition to go to breakfast together.

  After the last piece of pancake, he grew silent for a while before turning to look at me with a relentless expression on his face.

  "No matter how hard they're trying to break us, we won't, right, Angel? It doesn't matter you're all grown up, ‘cause you'll always be my little angel. I want to protect you from the world. That's what I have always tried to do, even if my methods might have been questionable. I know I don't say this nearly as often as I should, but I love you so much. And if there is someone who I can trust to protect and love you unlimitedly, it's Tiger. Just don't keep things from me anymore, okay?"

  I promised I won't. After all this… I know Dad wouldn't judge me for anything. Actually, it's never been about him; it has always been me and my fucked-up brain, which made me chase the impossible.

  But I admit it. I'm wrecked, but still all of my family love me.

  It feels fucking good.

  "I have to go to the morning meeting now, Angel." Dad gets up from the chair, kissing my forehead. "Try to get some rest."

  "You should sleep, too."

  He waves a dismissive hand while walking to the door. "I'm fine. Nothing a little bit of coffee wouldn't repair, right?"

  I snort out a laugh, but then my eyes widen as he opens the door. Dad sighs, shaking his head. "I should've known," he gives me an amused smile and claps his hands together. "Wake up, Romeo."

  Tiger startles, jerking his head up, as he sits on the other side of the hallway, his elbows on his knees and hands hanging between them. I can't believe he was actually sleeping outside of the door.

  "Uh, hey." He pushes himself up, tousling his hair, and yawns, looking exhausted. "What a night, huh? Gawd, my ass is numb."

  "Next time, take a pillow," Dad retorts to him, slapping his hand on Tiger's shoulder. "The meeting is in ten minutes, don't be late."

  "Dad!" I rush to yelp at him, waving my hand. "Can I come too?"

  He turns to stare at me for a while, pondering. I try to act super sharp like I'm still not tired as fuck. Every inch of my body aches, but I've got enough from being alone, without my family.

  "Fine," he finally sighs, turning to Tiger again. "Make sure she doesn't overstrain herself."

  "Ay, ay, sir." He nods, trying to look serious. I roll my eyes, and Dad gives him a dulled look.

  "And for fucks sake, boy, get yourself some coffee ‘cause I'm way too tired myself to watch your sleep-deprived ass in the meeting."

  At that, Dad leaves, shaking his head. Tiger makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him with an adorable grin on his face.

  "How are you feeling, baby girl?"

  "Peachy." I watch his dark eyes, which are always even more intense in the morning. If there were a picture in the urban dictionary at the definition of bedroom eyes, it would be Tiger's eyes. Those are the sexiest things I've ever seen.

  "You know, the way you're looking at me only makes my morning boner even harder," he says casually while handing me sweatpants from the duffel bag at the end of the bed.

  I snort out a laugh. "Dad was right, you really need some coffee before we go there. I didn't even remember how obscene you can be when you're tired."

  "Hey, you're the one who started to ogle me and lick your lips like you want to suck my dick asap." Tiger smirks, adjusting himself in his black sweats. I push my sheets off while starting to get up and squint my eyes at him. Still, from the inside, I'm sparkling from his words—Tiger has always had a magical effect on me.

  "I didn't lick my lips."

  "You did. And besides, baby, you love the way I am." He wraps his hand around my waist when I get up, his hard body flush against mine. Millions of butterflies start to flutter their wings in my belly, and my breath catches when I look up to meet his eyes.

  He is so fucking gorgeous. The dark five o'clock shadow highlights his strong jaw, giving him an even more sensual appearance. Usually, Tiger shaves it off, but for apparent reasons, he's been quite busy. His familiar manly scent—leather and smoke—lingers into my senses, sending smooth, euphoric waves float over me.

  Tiger leans closer, sliding his other hand to the nape of my neck, and nuzzles the spot right behind my ear. My skin shivers from the pleasure, and even though I know at the back of my head we really should hurry, I wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck. I missed him so much.

  His tongue swirls on my skin, the hand on my waist moves to my ass, giving it almost a painful squeeze. I fucking love it. His way of loving me is entirely different than anyone else's. I arch my back, pushing harder against him, and when he sucks my skin—probably leaving a mark behind—I'm a goner.

  A desperate moan escapes from my throat, and I buck my hips against his—telling what I need.

  "Baby," Tiger whispers to my ear. "No matter how much I'd like to rip your clothes off, we gotta go. Besides, we need to be careful with your injuries."

  Annoyance fills every inch of my body, and I lean back, glaring at him. "You fucking buzzkill."

  He laughs, all low and husky. The sound of it makes my chest bubble. "Worm, I promise, it's not fun for me either, but I don't wanna test Leo's boundaries any more than I've already done." He leans closer again, brushing my lips with his and sucks my bottom lip to his mouth, drawing his teeth over it. "Later, I'm gonna make you feel better than you've ever felt. Can you be patient, baby girl?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "No." Tiger smirks, pinching my ass. "Let's get you dressed. How's the leg?"

  I shrug. "Better, I guess." He crouches down to help me into those sweats, eyes still on mine. It's hard to think if anything hurts right now when he made me bask in ecstasy with his touch. I give him an easy-going smile. "It's not hurting much."

  "How's everything else? Feeling all right?"

  "Yeah, all good. You don't have to worry about me."

  There is something in Tiger's eyes I can't quite catch, but soon he smiles it off like knowing I'm reading him.

  "I'll always worry about you, but it's a good thing you feel better." He straightens, brushing my side with his fingers. It makes me shiver, goosebumps sprouting on my skin. His hands come up to cup my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks. Those intense dark eyes drill into my soul as he watches me with deep admiration. "I love you, Cobra. I'll always be by your side."

  "I love you more," I retort, but squint my eyes. "Why do I feel there is something you're keeping from me?"

  His eyes roam over the room before meeting mine. There's a couple of lines between his thick brows. "'Cause there is, but we'll talk about it after the meeting."

  I know Tiger.

  If he says after the meeting, there is no way I can make him talk about it before. We are similar that way—if we don't wanna talk, you can destroy the fucking world, and we still don't speak. Like I don't want to speak about what happened because all I want is to forget. I don't want to roll it over and over again in my head. So… I don't even try to urge what he is keeping—it'd be a waste of time.

  "Okay. If you say so."

  A satisfied smirk spreads to his face as he steps back, threading his fingers through mine. "Well, then, little worm, let's go."

  We walk hand in hand to Dad's office, slowly because of my stabbed leg, but Tiger won't rush. Neither does he offer to carry me, which I know he really wants to do but knows better not to ask. Yesterday, I couldn't walk, so it was a must, but now?

  He can just dream about carrying me around.

  The only way he is allowed to lift me right now is when he agrees to fuck me against the wall, but clearly, he's not about to do that. Truthfully, it's the thing I really need right now.

  To erase the memory of Levi.

  It disgusts me he's the last one who's been there.

  A cold shiver of loath runs through me, and I feel the li
ttle hairs on my neck stand to an end. Tiger's hand is just on the door handle of Dad's office as he turns to me, feeling my tremble.

  "What is it, baby?" A concern clouds his beautiful features.

  I shake my head, nausea twisting my stomach. "Nothing, kitty. I'm fine."

  "That's a big, fat lie. And...?" He tilts his head to the side, giving me a judgmental look.

  Like I don't remember what I've promised to him.

  "Okay, I'm not. Right now, right here, I don't wanna talk about it."

  The hand from the door comes to my cheek, caressing. "You sure you wanna go there? We don't have to."

  I love how he can be gentle with me, but at this moment, all that gentleness reminds me of him. Levi was all about soft touch, and now it makes me boil. I want him out of my fucking mind.

  "Tiger, please." I drop my head back and huff out a breath. "I'm not made of glass, stop treating me like it."

  I have to close my eyes because my heart is pounding so hard in my chest, it feels like it could be seen pulsating on my skin. Tiger's hand disappears from my cheek, and he stays silent, but I feel his eyes on me. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead because of the pounding, which just. Won't. Stop. I bring my hand over my heart, and I feel it under my palm.

  What the fuck?

  "Doc said you're addicted to benzos, and the way you look right now, I bet you're having withdrawals." His strained, but steady words make me jerk my head straight to meet his gaze. It's deadly serious.

  "What the hell? I'm not addicted to anything." I grit my teeth, anger shooting spikes from my spine, and my heart starts to work overtime.

  "Wait." Tiger turns away from me, opens the door, and peeks in. "Leo, we're not coming. I'll talk with you later."

  Dad answers something, and Tiger pulls the door closed, spinning back to me.

  "Let's go to my loft. We need to get this over with."

  ~

  "I'd rather die than take those fucking pills!" I glare at Doc, then Dad, and last Tiger. Doc opens her mouth, but I throw my hand in the air, cutting her off. "I said, no! I'm not taking it!"

  "It will help you," she still says, ignoring my unequivocal statement. "The drop from—"

  "She said no," Tiger's low growl makes the air almost vibrate. Dad had pushed the meeting further and dragged Doc into Tiger's loft soon behind us so she could give the medical point of view about my addiction.

  Fuck her and her pills.

  Dad nods, letting out a heavy sigh, and points to the door. "You can go." And Doc does precisely that. After she's gone, the front door closes behind her; Dad turns to look at me. "Cobra, I respect your decision, but remember, whenever you feel like it's too much, just say the word. There's no shame in getting help, do you understand?"

  My stomach convulses like it's been doing for the past half an hour, wanting me to run to the bathroom and throw up. I'm really hitting the rock bottom. The realization of it, how well they fucked me over, makes me even sicker.

  Why me?

  Why the fuck me?

  Still, I wouldn't want anyone in my family to take my place. I would never want that to happen to them, even though I know Falcon would've probably gotten out sooner than me. She's so fucking smart. Just like Bear. They're smart without even trying, finding solutions in the most challenging places—like Dad.

  Rather me than them.

  "Angel?" Dad calls me again, stepping closer.

  I snap out of my thoughts, cold sweat on my forehead. "It's not fucking help if those pills make me feel what I felt when I was there. I'm not taking them. Ever."

  The pain in his eyes makes my breath catch in my throat. From the corner of my eye, I see Tiger staring at the wall, his fingers squeezing mine almost achingly. Dad steps in front of me, cupping my face and kisses the top of my head. "Then you don't have to take them. You know where to find me if you need me. I love you, little one," then he turns to Tiger, wrapping one hand behind his neck and places a kiss to his forehead before whispering something in his ear.

  The move shocks the living shit out of me.

  Tiger's jaw tightens, but he nods to Dad, and then he leaves without saying another word.

  "What did he say?" I ask, staring at him with wide eyes.

  "Are you hungry?" Tiger sighs, dodging my question.

  "He didn't say that."

  "No, but I'm saying it now. So?" His face is statue-like, not letting anything out.

  I stamp my foot to the floor, frustration leaking out of me. "Tiger! Tell me!"

  "He wants me to talk to you. Dig out what they did to you in those fourteen days. So, do you want to chat? Why did they drug you every day?" Tiger grits his teeth, his entire body rigid. "What happened to you, baby girl? How did they try to break you?"

  My mouth drops open, and I end up gaping like a fish. Tiger's tone seeps animosity like never before, and there's only one time I've been facing him like this—when I tried to dig the information about his sister. Now I know why Dad wants Tiger to talk to me.

  He thinks Tiger can relate to me. And based on his reaction… he can.

  "Well? I thought you wanted to talk? Spill your secrets, baby, and I'll spill mine," he taunts me, venom dripping from his voice.

  I feel like I'm at the crossroads. The old curiosity about his past peeks up from the back of my head, but at the same time, I am not in a fucking mood to share my shit.

  I get him so much better now.

  My stomach decides it for me. I slap my hand to my mouth, sprinting to the bathroom like an Olympic runner, just in time when pancakes make their way up my throat.

  While I gag the contents of my belly into the toilet, I feel gentle hands gathering my hair back. Next, he sits behind me, keeping me between his legs as I keep throwing up. The acid taste makes my eyes blur, and my throat burns from it as I've actually drunk something poisonous. Every inch of me is in pain when I finally manage to reach the toilet paper to wipe my mouth and flush the toilet.

  I lean back to rest against Tiger's wide chest, and he cradles his hands around me, burying his face into my hair.

  "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to be so…" he whispers, tightening his hold of me. "I'm sorry."

  Folding my arms over his, I close my eyes. I'm just so tired and being close to Tiger makes me feel I can rest here forever.

  "It's okay. You don't have to apologize to me for that."

  "But Leo is right. I'm just… I'm not ready."

  I pet his arm, snuggling myself into a better position against him. "Me neither, love. Me neither."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "Play with me, Anthony."

  I grit my teeth, keeping my eyes on the lock of the cage. Ignoring her because I'm not in the fucking mood for playing.

  Amelia tugs my arm, forcing me to focus on her. I turn my gaze to her, meeting those eyes, which are a perfect copy of mine. She pulls on a smirk, her dimples flashing—that too is a copy of me.

  As an hour older, I can say she is my copy, not the other way around.

  "Paper, rock, scissors." She lifts her fist in front of her, bouncing her head like bobblehead figures on a dashboard. Mom used to have one of those. We bought it for her birthday. "On three."

  "How can you play now, when you know the sun is going down?" I snap at her, turning my eyes to the lock. I need to get it open. I need to. Probably an hour before the sun is set—before they come back.

  Amelia drops her hand and looks at her lap, biting her lip. "I don't want to think about it. We're not there yet."

  "We have to get out! We need to—" I wave my hand towards the door, my blood boiling in my veins. "I have to get us out!"

  Her hands wrap around my arm, and she hugs it like a lifeline. "I know, but we've been trying for almost two years. It's not going to happen."

  Not this.

  "We can't just stop trying, Amelia." I feel the fear starting to rise from my core, as the sun is beginning to disappear from the high window. "We can't quit trying—"

  "I'm not
stopping. I just don't want to roll in it all the time." She leans back, eyes shimmering from tears. "I want to feel happy at least five minutes a day, Anthony, and I want you to be happy with me."

  She cried a lot in the beginning, and recently... she has started crying again. More and more. Every day.

  Taking a shaky breath, I curl my fingers into a ball, lifting it up.

  "On three."

  I scrub a hand over my face, trying to vanish the memories from my mind, and drop my gaze down to my lap. My T-shirt is soaking wet, and so is Cobra. Her sweat drenched hair is glued to her forehead again, even though it's not long ago when I wiped them back from her face.

  But she moves a lot—jerks in her dream.

  The sweat on my front is from her, but the damp gluing me to my couch is from me. Cobra is like an electric heater against my chest. I don't give a fuck about it because she is here—right in my arms.

  Exactly where she belongs.

  Cobra puked the whole morning till late noon. Even water didn't stick in. When she wasn't vomiting, she was under the cold shower trying to cool her body. I've never seen her so sick. It was Hell on Earth to watch her like that—unable to help in any way.

  Finally, she was able to drink some orange juice, but just in case, we sat for an hour on the bathroom floor waiting for it to come up. Luckily, it didn't, and we were able to move to the couch. Cobra didn't want to go to bed because she was sure the vomiting was not over, and in my loft, the living room couch is closer to the bathroom than my bed.

  A quick glance at the clock tells me we've been lying here for five hours, and I'm pleased about it. The more she sleeps, the more time passes, and her body will recover.

  In these five hours, I haven't slept at all. My mind is going through memories, even when I try to think about everything else, but it always takes me back. How the fuck I'm going to go through anything with Cobra? I can't even go through it all in my mind.

  I thought I was prepared to fix her.

  The fuck I am.

  My entire system goes to alarm mode, telling me to get the fuck out the situation every time Leo hints me to talk with her. Or when Cobra pushes me about it, even unwittingly. I've been preparing myself for this, so why is it still so hard?