After the Storm (KGI #8)(40)

“We do,” Joe said with an amused grin.

She looked up to see him watching her in the rearview mirror.

“Well, not me, at least not yet,” he continued. “Swanny and I still bunk in my oldest brother’s old place, but if my brothers get their way, I’ll be building a house here soon.”

Donovan grunted his agreement.

“I’m so lost,” Eve murmured. “Who are you people?”

“We’re people who help other people in trouble,” Swanny said, swiveling in his seat to look at Eve and her siblings. His expression was serious, but his eyes were soft and friendly, contradicting the harsh look given to him by the scar that raked across one side of his face.

His words should have reassured Eve. Because she and her brother and sister were definitely in trouble and they definitely needed help. But the words didn’t reassure her. They just made her more nervous about the man in whom she’d placed her and her siblings’ trust.

As if sensing her unease, Donovan reached for her hand again, curling his fingers around hers. Familiar warmth spread up her arm. She loved his touch. It was something she could become addicted to. Just a brief moment when she felt that all was well and that Walt didn’t exist. It was a stupid thought and one that could get her killed if she didn’t snap out of it.

There was no safe harbor from Walt. There never would be. She had to remember that.

“It’s going to be okay, Eve. I swear it.”

The quiet vow shook her to her core. He sounded absolute. How could anyone make such a promise? Especially when they had no idea what they were up against?

For the first time, Eve’s confidence faltered. Her confidence that her situation was hopeless. Donovan made her believe—made her want to believe—that he could protect her and keep her brother and sister safe. Was she a fool to get sucked into this? But would she be an even bigger fool to turn away such a huge gift? Was she doing Cammie and Travis a disservice by not at least seeing where this took them?

She glanced anxiously at Travis, looking for any sign that he shared her same fears. But what she saw took her breath away and made the decision for her. Hope. She saw hope in her brother’s eyes. Saw the same glimmer in Cammie’s. A look of awe, as though Donovan were a knight in shining armor, a savior from the months of desperation and constant worry that their past would catch up to them. And there was the fact that Cammie, who was terrified of all men, was curled trustingly against Donovan’s chest, her head resting just below his chin.

“Okay,” she whispered, the simple word catching in her throat.

Oh God, don’t let her be making the wrong decision.

Satisfaction glinted in Donovan’s eyes. His fingers tightened around hers as he gave them a squeeze.

The truck pulled up to a large house that looked brand-new. Everything was shiny, the paint fresh, the landscaping immaculate. There was no evidence here that a deadly tornado had ripped through just hours before. The only sign was two fallen tree branches at the corner of the house and a few scattered smaller limbs.

Joe hopped out of the truck, as did Swanny. Donovan handed Cammie out to Swanny after reassuring her that he would take her back as soon as he helped Eve out and then climbed out himself.

The door opened on Travis’s side, and Joe made to assist him out of the truck, instructing him to lean on Joe and to take it slow. Then Donovan reached for Eve, carefully helping her to her feet. He kept hold of her arm, his touch achingly gentle, until he was certain she could stand on her own.

Cammie didn’t protest Swanny holding her, but the minute Donovan reached for her, she all but jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his skin with the force of her hold.

Donovan took it in stride, cradling her close. Swanny fell in beside Eve, offering his arm. When she stumbled, more because of bewilderment than not having the ability to walk on her own, Swanny’s arm swiftly curled around her, anchoring her to his side.

“Take it nice and slow,” Swanny said in a low tone. “We’ll get you inside and make you comfortable until Maren gets here.”

It took her a moment to remember who Maren was. Donovan had said his doctor friend’s name was Maren. The one he’d wanted to bring over and examine Cammie.

Her gait was hesitant and to Swanny’s credit he didn’t rush her. He stayed with her every step of the way, his pace measured as he helped her toward the house.

Travis and Joe went ahead of her, and it concerned her that pain had creased Travis’s face the moment he got out of the truck and began walking. What if he was seriously injured? A hospital was out, but if it was a choice between him getting the care he needed or not, she would have no choice but to risk a trip to the ER and possible hospitalization.

“You’re going to pass out if you don’t slow your breathing down,” Swanny murmured.

She swallowed and gulped in a steadying breath, exhaling through her nose in an effort to get control. It did no good to assume the worst-case scenario. A doctor would examine him. Then they’d go from there.

But still, she whispered an urgent prayer that none of their injuries were severe and that Cammie’s illness wasn’t bad enough to require hospitalization.

They walked into the foyer and then into a sprawling living room that looked bereft of furniture. There was only a small sofa, a recliner and a huge television on the far wall. No end tables, nothing hanging on the walls. And it smelled of fresh paint.