Page 66 of Echoes in the Storm

“I told you I wanted Amanda,” I remind him in a low, level tone that belies my rage.

“And I thought Terry was a better fit.” He thrusts the envelope, no doubt containing the contract, toward me.

I snatch it before it falls to the wet ground and then promptly throw it back at him. “Come back when you have the right one.”

Jared opens his mouth to speak, yet stops as Duke steps in between us, his back to me, one hand to Jared’s chest. “I think you should leave.”

“Get your hands off me.” Rain soaks Jared’s shirt where Duke presses it, sticking the navy cotton to his hard chest.

I step out of the way as Duke lifts his hands and backs away with a tip of his head. “No problem, mate. But if I hear about you making Cam upset again, my hands on you is going to be the least of your worries.”

“Are you threatening me?” Jared crumples his face up, making out he can’t believe what he just heard. He looks to me, rain dripping off his nose as he thumbs at Duke. “Did he threaten me just then, Cam?”

“I believe he did.” I turn the corners of my mouth down, lifting my eyebrows as though surprised.

The rain intensifies, running in rivers down my face, over my arms. Yet I don’t care. It’s relief, a reminder that I’m alive. I’m doing okay. I’m strong enough to stand my ground with this and not let Jared bully me into doing what he wants like he has during the past three years.

“I can’t believe this shit.” Jared bends down, snatching up the sodden envelope. “First you kill our kid, and now you refuse to move out of the house like some goddamn squatter.”

Kill our kid …“What did you say?”

Duke lunges forward, shoving a hand into Jared’s shoulder. “Get in your fucking truck and go.”

I don’t even have time to say anything as Jared draws his free arm back and throws a wayward punch at Duke. My heart leaps into my throat as Duke dodges and then promptly takes a hold of Jared’s arm, twisting it behind him. The men tussle, hair wet in their faces as Jared tries to regain the upper hand—which should be easy, given he’s taller—yet he fails. A height advantage is nothing compared to a trained fighter. Duke tangles his foot in Jared’s, effectively immobilising him unless my ex fancies a date with the driveway.

“Calm your shit, man,” Duke warns. “This doesn’t need to get out of hand.”

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” Jared bellows, breaking free with a violent twist of his shoulders. He throws the envelope in the open door of his truck and turns back to face us both. “If these are the kinds of people you welcome into our home, Cam, then I may as well let your mum know she should plan your funeral now.” He throws a hate-filled glare at Duke. “Because with a violent arsehole like him, you’re bound to end up raped and murdered.”

Duke cracks up laughing, tossing his head back, his thumbs hooked in his jeans as Jared gets in the truck and slams the door. It unsettles my ex, which I couldn’t love more. Yet what intrigues me is that he doesn’t even appear to be doing it for show—Duke’s genuinely amused by Jared’s attitude.

The truck kicks stones up toward the house, spattering them over the veranda, yet they don’t appear to make a sound thanks to the deluge we’re now caught in.

“He come here to do that often?” Duke asks as we head the house.

“I’ve seen him more in the last month than I have in the last year.” I shake my dripping hair off my face, wiping it out of the way with my hands.

Duke takes one look at me and chuckles. “Oh, Cam.”

“What?” I fish through my bag for where I tossed the keys when I went after the men.

“You’ve got makeup from your lashes down to your jaw.”

I roll my eyes at him before I slot the key in the door. “I can imagine.” My gaze returns to him as I twist and open. “You’re not all that put together yourself, you know.”

His light grey T-shirt is drenched, sticking to the planes of his muscles, his hair dripping water onto his face that runs in slow lines down to the sharp edge of his jaw before falling to the deck.

“We going inside?” he asks quietly, drawing my attention to the fact I stand in the open doorway with my fingers still wrapped around the handle.

“Oh, shit. I mean, yeah. Of course.”

My favourite smirk returns as I step into the entrance and drop my bag. Duke shuts the door behind us as I hop around on one foot, trying to peel my sodden boots off. I manage to wrestle them into submission and drop the shoes on the floor before peeling my cardigan off as well. Silence echoes between us as I let the clothing hit the floor with a wet thwack.

“How long have you got before you need to go out again?”

“About an hour.” I turn to face Duke. “Why—”

Oh, my.