The Devil's Storm

  The Devil’s Storm

  By Lorelai Watson

  Published By

  Breaking Rules Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Lorelai Watson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by the review who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  The author has used an outside source to edit this book.

  Soft Cover – 10409

  Published by Breaking Rules Publishing

  Pompano Beach, Florida

  www.breakingrulespublishing.com

  Chapter one

  It was July 12. The air buzzed with the memories of the not-so-distant past.

  It had been Madeleine’s first thought from the moment her eyes opened that morning. She may have imagined it, and Madeleine knew she probably had, but her world felt different that day, as if the axis were off-tilt, or if the whole forsaken thing was turning slower to make this day even longer.

  It had been two years, but Madeleine remembered the pain knotting up in her core; how the burdens long-resting on her shoulders had become too much. She remembered the bathroom, the knife, the intense pain of her wrists. She remembered the blood and the feeling of her life seeping from her wrists.

  If she lulled herself back to sleep, maybe she would dream, something pleasant that reflected the near-perfection of the past year, three months and six days of her life. With a rustling in the crisp tangle of sheets, Madeleine closed her eyes and turned toward where she expected Adrian to be sleeping soundly. This foreboding made her crave the warmth of his body, the way he’d sleepily rollover with a grunt and hold her close.

  But Madeleine soon discovered she was alone in bed—their bed—and then a rush of thoughts pummeled her mind faster than logic could ever possibly prevail. He’d finally came to his senses and left her. He’d be driving back at top speed to Atlanta to beg his family’s forgiveness. Or maybe she had finally gone insane and imagined every moment she’d spent with him. Maybe none of this was real, the darker side of her insisted. You never deserved this anyway, it taunted. Look how many people you hurt just to make him yours. And you know you can’t keep him happy.

  No—no, none of that was true. This was real; Madeleine pinched herself for good measure to be sure. Besides, Adrian loved her. That she knew inherently. “Ade?” she called out.

  No answer. Not even a stir on this level of the house. He never woke up before her...

  Madeleine shook her head and wriggled her way out of the sheets from his side of the bed. His carelessly discarded boxers and an undershirt laid on the floor, evidence of yet another night spent so entirely caught up in the taste of each other’s kiss, the feeling of their palms and fingers and the soul-enrapturing release of every desire they’d held back those long years. That part, at least, Madeleine thought, had been real, right?

  As Madeleine stooped to throw on his boxers, she felt the sweet ache between her thighs, a landmark where he’d both claimed and submitted to her all at once. She was still slipping on his undershirt when she stepped out into the hall and down the stairs. The clang of a spoon against his favorite coffee mug confirmed it—he was still there. A grin spread across her lips; he had to be the most annoying coffee-stirrer in the world, but it still made her heart swell to hear his ridiculous clanging every morning.

  Madeleine wandered into the kitchen just in time to see Adrian taking a sip of his too-hot coffee and spitting it out over the white marble countertops. She utterly failed in stifling a laugh as he desperately checked his shirt for pinpricks of coffee spritz.

  “Watch the coffee this morning,” he warned as he smoothed out his shirt. “It’s hotter than hell.”

  “On the bright side,” she began with a grin, “the new machine works well.”

  God, it was so much easier to be happy when he was around, to be able to look on the so-called bright side. Or to be sure minded of her own sanity.

  “Yeah,” Adrian muttered in response as he checked his tie. “Probably too well.”

  Madeleine eyed his outfit. Navy vest, suit and silk tie, crisp light blue dress shirt. It set off his striking gray eyes. Jesus, he was perfection. “So… it’s Fancy Friday? Is this a new trend we’re doing?”

  Adrian chewed his lower lip nervously. “About that… I know this is a really heavy day for you. And, for both of us—”

  Madeleine raised a brow as she laced her fingers through his belt loops and turned to look at him eye to eye. “Since when are you too nervous to tell me something?”

  “Baby, I’ve been too nervous to tell you a lot of things the past sixteen years,” he sighed with a kiss on her forehead. He took a moment, then said what was on his mind. “I have a job interview in about an hour.”

  “A job interview?” Madeleine began, feeling a sense of relief. “Really? That’s what you worried about telling me?”

  “It just didn’t register that it was today when they called to schedule it. I’m so sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “To be honest, I was just excited to get a call.”

  He kept apologizing, but Madeleine was thrilled for him. This was what he had wanted for years now. “Is this an engineering job? Like an actual engineering job where you get to make things again?”

  “Yes. It’s with a company called Harrison Aerospace. I’ve got the experience…I’m just not sure if they’d hire.”

  “Adrian, you’ve run a huge tech corporation. You graduated from Georgia Tech with a master’s degree. With honors. What company wouldn’t hire you?”

  He took a deep breath. “The only job I’ve ever had was with my family’s company. It’s been years since I’ve really gotten to design something. They’ll know I’m rusty. And what if they view someone that’s run said huge tech corporation as a threat to their own job?”

  “And what if they see how amazing you are and hire you on the spot?” Madeleine interrupted. “Then I’m going to be the one with the problem. Who’s going to sit in my office and look sexy while I write?”

  Adrian sighed. “I need this job.”

  “Is the trust fund running out?” she teased with a melodramatic fainting pose. “Billions turning to millions as time slips away from your grasp? How will we ever feed the children?”

  He rolled his eyes, but a smile played at his lips. Adrian grabbed her hips and pulled her into his embrace for a long, slow kiss. His smile illuminated the timbre of his voice when he spoke. “When are we going to get on that?”

  “On what?”

  “You know, those children we can’t afford to feed?”

  A choking dryness took over her throat as she prepared to speak. Madeleine had to admit, he always knew just the thing to say to make her blood rush across her body. “Why Mr. Atwood,” she squeaked in a put-on Savannah accent. “You have yet to ask me to marry you. I’m afraid babies are out of the question until we’ve discussed our marital situation.”

  He raised a brow but seemed to get caught up in her eyes as his expression fell from bright to that deep, penetrating stare that she’d grown to love so very much. “Well, I, um…I was hoping we could talk about that, too,” he stammered. Could he have been any cuter?

  “Yes?” she began, unable to help the ear-to-ear grin that split her face.

  “I love you… so much more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”

  Madeleine felt her heart pounding out of her chest. “Oh Jesus, you’re not doing this now are you? I was hoping I’d look pretty when this happened, not freshly rolled out of bed.”

  With a wry smile he pressed his body against hers and an all-consuming heat
spread across her entire body within seconds. “I think you look hot,” he confessed, pressing a long, sweet kiss to her lips. “You wearing my boxers is a major turn-on.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “Oh please do,” he began as he kissed her again, a wayward hand slipping up her shirt.

  “Thought you had an interview to get to?” she teased in a sigh as he kissed her neck and she took a deep scent of his cologne. Adrian groaned from his nook between her shoulder and neck, forcing himself to amble away from her. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured in surrender, placing a kiss on her cheek.

  “We can celebrate your new job tonight,” Madeleine added, running her hand down his arm.

  “Hopefully,” he huffed. “Either way, let’s go out. We can go to that sushi place down on Abercorn we wanted to try.”

  She walked him to the front door, and with one last kiss to send him off, waited on the front porch until he turned the corner and disappeared from her sight. Watching him leave, put a surprising pang in her heart. Why did it hurt to see him leave? They had spent the last year of their life doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. They’d taken trips, gotten their home in order, and to the standards of the Savannah Historic Society to boot. This sweet stage of being completely wrapped up in nothing but one another had to end at some point. The world had to resemble normalcy, not some

  romance-novel level of wish-fulfillment.

  Realizing she probably looked ridiculous to the morning joggers and passerby swathed up in her boyfriend’s underclothes on the front porch of a house with such class, Madeleine wrapped her arms around her chest and retreated to the protective comfort of the closed doors of their home.

  Inside, it was too quiet. If Adrian was in the house, there would be some form of sound, whether he was downstairs tinkering with whatever he could get his hands on, stirring his coffee, or traipsing through the house to the pool or out jog—no, run—the streets of Savannah. At heart, Adrian was still the typical definition of a little boy—a noise covered in dirt. The man couldn’t be still and quiet unless one of his favorite shows was on, but he didn’t watch much television. For the first time since moving in, she missed the different sounds, his boundless amounts of energy. Without him, the house seemed dead.

  Madeleine sighed and headed up the stairs back to their bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. The master bath wasn’t large—they never were in these old houses—but there were a free-standing tub and a newly renovated shower. Madeleine eyed the tub cautiously as if it were some kind of threat.

  That was completely illogical, of course. In the entire time they had lived there, it had never felt that way before. But today was July 12. It brought back so many memories — the tears, the blood, the wrenching pain, the wedding portrait of her and Lee that try as she might, was too difficult to throw away. Madeleine didn’t know why it had been hard to get rid of the last vestige of their marriage. She could certainly survive without Lee, but Madeleine worried about him from time to time, regardless. A part of her would always worry about him, and God knew there were plenty of reasons to worry about Lee Atwood.

  Madeleine narrowed her gaze at the tub, then crossed her arms and stripped out of Adrian’s clothes. She could face the pain and mistakes of two years ago and forge on into a bright future. Life was better now, what it always should have been.

  Madeleine gripped the cross-handle faucet knob and ran herself a hot bath. As the water exploded through the faucet, memories flashed—the sound of the water filling, running hot through the pipes, the smell of the old house, the most overwhelming feeling of nothingness and desperation all swirling together. Madeleine took a big, deep breath and climbed in, letting the warmth of the water rush over her body.

  Yes, life was better now.

  She had a new book out—her agent and editors loved it; her best work ever, they said— Adrian loved her and wanted to fill the rest of their days with love and babies and rainbows and kittens and glitter and all things happy. But then again…what if her history with Lee just repeated itself? Could she stand another failed marriage, or worse yet, putting Adrian through such hell?

  That won’t happen, she tried to tell herself. Madeleine thought back to his comment that morning asking when they would have children, wanting to talk about getting married. The thought of failing him in those things—no matter how much he loved her regardless—was unbearable. Adrian had given up everything just to make this work.

  Try to relax. Think about something positive, Madeleine chanted in her mind. She laid back and pictured a long strand of glistening sands. The sun was slowly sinking to kiss a patchwork-sea of coral and apricot and obsidian as the sky faded into dusk. Every color exploded into brilliance. Madeleine basked in the sand beneath her feet, still hot from the sun’s touch. A wisp of breeze toyed with her hair, and she felt Adrian’s smile just as physical as the weight of his hand in her own. A carefree peace like she’d never known before had settled into her soul like it never planned to leave.

  This was good.

  This was perfect.

  “Hello, Madeleine.”

  Madeleine’s eyes snapped open. The sunlight was blinding. And then she was there again—white tiled bathroom, washed in orange. Knife balanced between the faucet of a tub that was too similar, but she had spent the past year too happy to notice. A fly on the faucet just waiting for her to slip away.

  And she had been alone. No, not alone. She thought she had been, that the events of July 12th had been all of her own machinations. Her heart skipped to a thudding, pounding erratic mess of rhythms as the scene faded back to reality. A reality almost as grim as that day had been.

  There she was—as flesh as she’d ever been, perched on the side

  of the tub, long legs crossed, red hair flowing down her back, a Machiavellian smile revealing perfect, white teeth. And on her chest and neck, knotted scars that marred her otherwise perfect milky flesh.

  Evelyn.

  “Still clinging on to dear life, I see. How’s Adrian?”

  It took all Madeleine had in her not to scream.

  Chapter two

  Adrian rubbed his sweating palms on his pants. For God’s sake…why was he so nervous? He could do this job in his sleep. Harrison Aerospace mostly did government contract work for the Air Force, and they were still just a speck compared to Atwood Technologies. With the work he’d done for Boeing and Lockheed, this job should just be more of the same thing he’d been doing since his twenties. His portfolio attested to that.

  If his engineering experience was the only factor, he’d stride in perfectly confident. He might even be bold enough to discuss a higher salary. But his nervousness stemmed from one little complication—the inevitable question of why he left Atwood Technologies.

  What would he say? Should he tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help him, God? Should he say he’d fallen head over heels for the boss’s wife, who, by the way, was also his sister-in-law? Adrian shook his head. It wasn’t any company’s business anyway what he did with his personal life.

  No, he’d give a half-truth, the same one he’d given Lee when he turned in his resignation letter. He simply wished to be an engineer. Not a vice-president, or CEO, or even a corporate drone. He preferred to design things, build them, watch them come to life and serve a purpose. That was his true passion, not sitting in meetings, selling the amazing things some other guy poured his blood, sweat, and tears into.

  That wasn’t him.

  Adrian glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes before his interview. Time ticked away slowly as his nervousness increased exponentially. He also worried about Madeleine being home alone on today of all days. He should have made sure that she woke up today in Tahiti or Bali or somewhere. He should have served her breakfast in bed. He should have paid an ungodly amount of money for beachfront privacy so he could spend the day making love to her right there in the surf. Her biggest worry should have been making a spa appointment on time
, not how she almost died, or how much everything still hurt.

  But he would change that. Adrian knew he couldn’t fix the past, but he would do everything in his power to make her future everything she dreamed of.

  He recalled one late night, a couple of weeks back when he was too restless to sleep. Which was rare for him. Madeleine made fun of him going to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but that night, something was different. Nothing in particular was on his mind, aside from the damned historical preservation society rules and restoring a few things around the house. He was happier than ever, and certainly more at ease.

  He tossed and turned and then finally gave up. He grabbed his phone and headed downstairs to Madeleine’s office. He fully intended on researching the silly historical society rules some more. He would hate to paint something the wrong shade of off-white, but routine led him astray. Instead of typing ‘Savannah Historical Society’ into the search bar, his fingers automatically began logging in to the Atwood Technologies webmail. He had the entire address entered before he even realized what he’d done.

  Curiosity prompted him to log in. What were the chances he still even had access to his email, anyway? Wouldn’t I.T. have deleted his account? But sure enough, the icon spun, and the inbox racked up thousands of unread emails.

  Most of them were mundane business emails and meeting invitations. Others were from employees telling him they were sorry he would be leaving, that the company wouldn’t be the same without him. There was another from that really cute redhead in accounting asking him to give her a call if he ever wanted to grab dinner.

  Adrian snickered. Had Lee kept it under wraps or had everyone figured it out? Surely cute redheaded accountants wouldn’t hit on him if anyone knew the actual reason he’d quit.

  And then his phone rang. Adrian knitted his brow and his stomach sank when he saw the screen.

  For a moment, panic ensued. Should he answer? Deliberation rocked back and forth, and on the final ring, impulse and even more overwhelming curiosity won out. “Lee?”