Chapter 32 The sound of a storm

Chapter 32 The sound of a storm
BRISELLE’S POV.
  Kai was still sitting close to me, his proximity a physical weight I was struggling to navigate. The conversation about Arden felt like a jagged piece of glass embedded in the conversation, something we were both dancing around.
  "Forget him," Kai said, his voice dropping into that smooth, persuasive cadence he used when he wanted the world to see things his way. He reached out, his hand covering mine, his fingers long and cool. "Forget everything Arden said. He’s impulsive, Briselle. He sees shadows where there are none. Trust me. I’m the only one who has any stake in your safety."
  "Trust you?" I repeated, looking up at him. "You’ve made it very difficult to know what the truth is, Kai."
  "I know," he murmured. He leaned in, his forehead brushing mine. It was a gesture of quiet surrender, the first time I’d seen him truly lower his guard. "But for tonight, just for the next few hours, don't think about the blackmail, or my father, or whatever fairy tales Arden is spinning. Just be here. With me."
  Before I could answer, the sky outside the floor-to-ceiling windows turned a bruised, sickly shade of violet. A low, guttural rumble shook the glass, and then the heavens opened. It wasn't just rain; it was a deluge, a relentless hammering against the penthouse glass that sounded like an army of ghosts trying to get inside.
  Then came the flash—a blinding white vein of light that illuminated the entire loft in a strobe-like flicker. A fraction of a second later, the thunder cracked. It was a roar so loud, so concussive, that it felt like the very foundation of the building had been struck.
  I gasped, my heart slamming against my ribs. I’ve always hated thunderstorms. They felt like the world was falling apart, a reminder of the chaos I could never control.
  Kai sensed the shift in me instantly. He was up and moving before the echo of the thunder had even faded. He hit a panel on the wall, and the heavy, sound-dampened shutters began to descend, sealing off the view of the raging city. He adjusted the integrated audio system, turning on a low, steady hum of white noise and soft, ambient jazz that buffered the violent thrashing of the storm against the glass.
  "It’s okay," he said, his voice firm as he stepped back to the sofa. "The glass is reinforced. You’re safe in here."
  "It’s too loud," I whispered, my voice trembling as another flash of lightning turned the room into a skeleton of itself. "The house feels like it’s shaking."
  I stood up, intending to find my bag, to get out of this place, but my legs felt like water. I didn't have the strength to face the commute, the thought of the dark, rain-slicked streets, or the prospect of sneaking back into the dorm through the back door. The idea of navigating the storm felt impossible.
  I pulled out my phone, my fingers shaking as I typed a quick text to Veronica: The storm is too bad to get a cab. I’m staying at a friend’s place. Don’t wait up.
  Kai watched me, his expression unreadable. 
  "You shouldn't try to go home in this. It’s a death trap out there. Stay."
  He gestured vaguely toward the hallway. "I have a guest room. It’s quiet, and the window faces the interior courtyard, so you won't hear the wind as much. I’ll get you some blankets."
  I nodded, feeling a strange, hollow relief. "Thank you."
  But just as I turned to head toward the hallway, a bolt of lightning struck so close that the entire penthouse seemed to vibrate. The power flickered, the ambient jazz cut out, and for a terrifying second, we were plunged into total, suffocating darkness.
  The silence that followed was broken by an even louder, more violent crack of thunder.
  I didn't think, didn't calculate. I didn't remember the contract or the professional boundaries. My body acted on pure, primal instinct. I let out a sharp cry and surged forward, my hands finding the solid, warm fabric of Kai’s shirt. I lunged into him, burying my face in his chest, my arms wrapping around his waist as if he were the only solid thing in a disappearing world.
  I expected him to stiffen, I expected him to push me away or make a joke about my fear.
  Instead, I felt his arms snap around me with a ferocity that caught me off guard. He pulled me against him, his hands coming up to cradle the back of my head, pressing my face firmly into his collarbone. He held me so tightly I could feel the frantic rhythm of his own heart mirroring mine.
  He wasn't acting, wasn't performing for the cameras, and he wasn't trying to manipulate me. He was just...holding me.
  "I've got you," he whispered, his voice vibrating against my hair, deeper and more protective than I’d ever heard it. "I’ve got you, Briselle. I’m right here."
  I stayed there, shivering in his grip, listening to the storm scream outside the thick, insulated walls. In the dark, with his arms locked around me and his chin resting on the top of my head, the terror of the storm began to recede. 
  "Stay," he murmured, his hands stroking my hair in a way that felt entirely too gentle for a man like Kai Thornefield. "Just stay."
  In the eye of the storm, amidst the darkness and the rain, I didn't have the strength to say no.