When the Storm Ends Read online

  When the Storm Ends

  Copyright © 2016 Jillian Anselmi

  Published by Jillian Anselmi

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Jillian Anselmi 2016

  [email protected]

  Cover Design by:

  Marisa-Rose Shor of Cover Me Darling

  www.covermedarling.com

  Photographer:

  Regina Wamba of Mae I Design

  www.maeidesign.com

  Editing by:

  Monica Black of Word Nerd Editing

  www.wordnerdediting.com

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford of Perfectly Publishable

  www.perfectlypublishable.com

  Table of Contents

  When the Storm Ends

  Other Works by Jillian Anselmi

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements

  When the storm ends, there’s a calm in the air that shows you everything is going to be all right.

  But nothing may ever be right again.

  Delani Delvecchio has weathered storm after storm throughout her life, but this one may have the potential to break her. After what is supposed to be an anniversary celebration with her friends and boyfriend, Delani gets pulled into her own personal hell.

  Taken. Beaten. Tormented.

  Delani fights and makes it out, only to realize she’s not safe at home—she’s no longer safe in New York at all. With an untraceable phone, clothes that aren’t her own, and enough money to get her by, she gets on a train and heads to the last place she felt she would be looked for.

  What she didn’t expect to find when she got there was him.

  Cocky. Charismatic. Safe.

  Brody Russell, small town cop, quickly becomes the calm during Delani’s storm.

  His presence makes her forget and his southern charm works its way into her heart.

  Brody promises to protect her, to be right by her side when the storm ends.

  But what if this storm is only the beginning?

  The Chasing Olivia Series

  Drawn to You (Book 1 in the Chasing Olivia Series)

  Lost Without You (Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series)

  “Don’t judge yourself by what others did to you.”

  ~ C. Kennedy, Omorphi

  Brody,

  I’m sorry I couldn’t do this in person, but I know you’d try to talk me out of it. Seeing the way you’ve been looking at me these past couple weeks . . . it’s broken my heart. I know you blame yourself, but it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened, and I never will. But knowing I can’t give you what you need tears me apart. I’m damaged. Broken. A shell of my former self. I don’t know if I’ll ever be right again, and I don’t want you to wait for me. You deserve a woman who can give you everything you desire and more, and I can’t. You’ll always be in my heart.

  Love always,

  Your Lani

  Three months earlier . . .

  “DELANI, HURRY UP! We’re gonna be late.”

  “Be right there,” I call down to Taryn, my best friend since middle school, who’s waiting impatiently downstairs. Gazing in the mirror, I brush my brunette hair off my shoulders. I check my makeup again, making sure my emerald green eyes are done to perfection. Smacking my lips together, I even out my ruby red lipstick. Turning to the side, I smooth out my little black dress that’s hugging my hips, showing off my perfect figure. My flawless skin glowing, I’m ready to party like a rock star. Tonight, I’m celebrating my one year anniversary with Cole. Thoroughly satisfied, I bound down the stairs to my awaiting bestie.

  “It’s about time, prima donna. Christ, you’re worse than a Kardashian.”

  “Look who’s talking. You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” I say, rummaging through my purse for my iPhone.

  “Hey, it wasn’t my fault! My manicure appointment ran late. It was worth it, though. See how fantastic they look.” She wiggles her fingers in my face and I glance up at her glistening nails.

  “Yes, they’re great,” I murmur before returning my attention back to my bag. “Where the fuck is my phone?”

  “It’s right here,” she says, waving it in the air. “You need a tracker on this thing.”

  I grab it from her, shove it in my purse, and scoop my keys off the hall table before strolling toward the door. “Can we go now? It’s been a shitty day and I really need a drink.”

  “Yeah, all that shopping you did must have exhausted you,” she laughs, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

  I narrow my eyes at her in a death glare and she raises a brow, daring me to prove her wrong. She’s not, of course, and my only comeback is, “Fuck you,” with a smile.

  “Charles is waiting outside,” she says as we exit my Manhattan brownstone and walk down the steps to the awaiting town car.

  Charles, her personal driver, opens the door with a smile and a nod. “What are you ladies up to this evening?”

  “We’re meeting the guys at Avenue, over on Tenth Avenue and West Seventeenth Street,” Taryn says, ducking her head as she enters the Lincoln.

  “On a Monday?”

  “It’s the hottest club in Manhattan on Mondays,” I answer with a smirk as I scoot across the leather seat next to her. Charles shakes his head and lets out a chuckle before closing the door behind us.

  “I wonder if Leo will be there tonight,” Taryn giggles.

  “We never see anyone famous,” I protest. “We’ve been going there for almost a year and I’ve only seen Macklemore.”

  “I thought I saw Paris Hilton last week,” she argues, checking her makeup through the camera in her phone.

  “That wasn’t Paris.”

  “Whatever. Rumor has it Leo will be there tonight.”

  “What is your obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio?” I ask, checking my phone for messages. Shit, two missed texts.

  “What’s not to love? He’s fucking hot.”

  “You’re obsessed,” I joke, scrolling through my messages.

  “I’d totally ruin my body to have his kids.”

  Ignoring her, I mutter, “The boys want to know why we’re not there yet.”

  “Good Lor
d, tell Cole not to get his panties in a bunch. We’ll be there when we get there.”

  “You’d think they’d be used to us being late,” I say, hitting send.

  Me: On r way, chill!

  “Are we almost there?” Taryn asks Charles, her attention still on the camera.

  “A few more blocks,” he shouts over the music, weaving through the bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  Taryn fluffs her wavy, blonde hair before narrowing her eyes and pulling her phone closer. “Do my eyes look too dark?” she asks, blinking a few times and flashing her baby blues.

  “For the millionth time, no. You always look fabulous,” I insist.

  “I just want to be sure,” she moans.

  Charles pulls up in front of the club and we take in the desperate partygoers begging for the bouncer to let them in. There’s always a crowd stretching an entire block any day of the week and tonight is no exception. He jumps from the driver’s side and moves around toward the sidewalk, helping us out of the car.

  “Text me when you’re ready to go,” Charles says as we shuffle out and straighten our dresses. As Charles pulls away, I give a wave to Marcus, our favorite bouncer, who’s positioned between the door and the street. With a subtle nod and a smile, he unhooks the red velvet rope holding back the wannabes and posers. Making our way through the tightly packed bodies, we slide through the small entrance he’s made for us. I place a quick kiss on his cheek and step past him. Taryn and I enter the club as the mob of scantily-clad girls scream behind us.

  We enter the nightclub unscathed. The dark wood-paneled walls reflect the bright purple lighting, making everyone and everything appear violet. A giant blue spotlight swoops across the mass of bodies moving in rhythm to the beat. If you stand still long enough, the base vibrates through the floor and into your shoes. Not wanting to become trapped by the entrance, Taryn and I sashay our way across the overflowing dance floor to the stairway leading to the VIP seating area. We crest the top of the stairs, finding Cole and Dominic seated on one of the brown leather couches. Dominic and I have been friends for years, even before Taryn and I. I set him up with Taryn a couple years ago and they are the perfect couple. After I met Cole, we started going out on double dates and Dominic and Cole became fast friends, to my and Taryn’s pleasure.

  As soon as Cole sees me, he stands, pulling me into an embrace. “Happy anniversary, Delani.”

  “Happy anniversary,” I say, kissing him on the cheek. He sits back on the couch and pats the spot next to him while Taryn moves toward Dominic.

  “Oooh, you guys ordered champagne,” I hum, pointing to the wine chiller and glasses surrounding it.

  “Only the best for my girl,” Cole says before reaching for the Dom. He fills all four glasses and passes them around.

  “Here’s to another great year,” he toasts, his glass high in the air.

  “I’m not sure you can top this one,” Taryn says, and she’s right. This year has been fantastic.

  The day I met Cole, my girlfriends and I had gone out to a club for Taryn’s twenty-fifth birthday. We were ordering drinks from the bar when I first noticed him. He was with a bunch of guys, admiring me from the other side of the bar. He stood tall, but not towering over his friends. His dark hair flopped over his forehead in an adorable way. But his eyes—they were intense and unwavering. It didn’t matter where I walked, his gaze followed me everywhere.

  Tired of the ogling, I walked up to him and asked why he was staring. His answer couldn’t have been more ridiculous. “My boys over there bet I wouldn’t be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful girl in the room. Want to buy some drinks with their money?” It was, by far, the worst pickup line I’d ever heard, and I burst out laughing. As he laughed along with me, I got a good look at his eyes. They reminded me of a warm latte and a ring of gold hung inside his irises, adding another layer of depth. We got to talking, I gave him my number, and we’ve been together ever since.

  Cole swings my legs over his and runs his fingers over my thigh, giving me a naughty grin. I gasp at the sensation as he moves higher before batting him away with a smile. His brazenness is so out of character—especially in a public place.

  “I want to go downstairs and dance,” Taryn says to Dominic, her eyes never leaving the pulsating bodies on the floor.

  “Sure, baby. Let’s leave these two lovebirds alone.” With a wink, Dominic escorts Taryn down the stairs and I give them a small finger wave.

  “How was your day?” Cole asks, nuzzling my neck.

  “Good.” I nudge him back. “What’s with you today?” I ask, glancing around us as my hackles start to rise. Anyone could be watching and the thought makes me shudder.

  “Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.” He smiles at me, a little lopsided, his eyes glassy and dilated. He caresses up my leg again, moving toward the apex of my thighs, misreading my reaction.

  “Stop! We’re in public,” I hiss, shoving him away for the second time.

  “No one’s watching,” he whispers. “C’mon. It’s our anniversary.”

  “I’m not doing this here,” I insist, feeling more exposed than I’m comfortable with. I start to stand when three men approach us from the other side of the room and Cole tenses underneath me before pulling me back down.

  “Cole, fancy seeing you here,” a man with dark amber eyes in a three-piece designer suit says. He smiles, but it isn’t a kind. It looks menacing, even though his hard features and the five o’clock shadow dusting his cheeks and jaw are attractive. I find myself staring and look away, my gaze brushing over the other two men in similar suits.

  “Armond, nice to see you,” Cole says, a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone.

  “This must be the elusive Delani,” the man says with a wicked grin, turning his attention to me. He has an accent, Spanish or Italian maybe. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His sardonic smile gives me chills, and I don’t like his patronizing attitude, but it’s his eyes that give me pause. They’re dark and threatening, and remind me of death.

  “He-hello,” I stutter in a whisper. I swing my legs off Cole and sit up straight on the couch. Cole puts his arm across my shoulders, pulling me close.

  “What do you want?” Cole snaps, instantly going from semi-pleasant to arctic.

  “We just came by to say hello,” another man with the same accent answers.

  “Forgive me, I’m being rude,” Armond says, waving his arm behind him. “Delani, this is Tomas and Emmanuel.” Cole’s grip tightens on my shoulder and I flinch at the bruising touch.

  “Hi,” I squeak, trying to wiggle from Cole’s grasp.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” Armond asks.

  “Delani and I are celebrating, can it wait?” Cole asks through gritted teeth.

  “No.”

  “Fine,” Cole sighs before turning to me, his eyes pleading. “Baby, can you go downstairs and find Taryn? I’ll come down when I’m done.” His voice remains steady, but dread creeps into my gut at the slight fear in his gaze. He doesn’t want me here, and I can’t help but think my earlier reaction to these men was right. They aren’t nice people—and they aren’t his friends. “Please,” he whispers.

  “Okay,” I concede, pushing down the concern and plastering a smile on my face. I don’t want them to see the worry gnawing at my insides. All three men watch with hungry eyes as I stand. Tomas runs his gaze up and down my body, his leering gaze coming to rest on my breasts. A chill creeps up my spine, giving way to goosebumps. I try to suppress a shudder as I wave to them and scurry across the room as fast as I can in three-inch stilettos, feeling overexposed and creeped out. As soon as I reach the stairs, I look back. Cole’s eyes go wide and his face pales as the men surround him.

  My heart thunders as I fly down the steps, searching for Dominic and Taryn. I scan the bar and hook a heel on the rung of a stool to look out over the crowded dance floor. After a few moments, I spot them and push my way through the hordes of people, shoving those who are unwillin
g to move.

  “Dominic!” I scream over the music. “Taryn!”

  After several failed attempts, Dominic turns his head toward my voice, searching for the sound. I wave my hand in the air and his eyes land on mine.

  “What’s wrong?” he shouts, his brow furrowing.

  “I don’t know. These guys are upstairs talking with Cole and I have a really bad feeling. Can you go up there, please?”

  Without a second thought, he nods his head and makes his way toward me, fighting through the crowd.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, are you okay?” Taryn asks.

  “The way they were looking at me when I was walking away . . . it freaked me out.”

  “Fucking men. They’re all scum.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go get a drink.”

  TWO DRINKS LATER, there’s no sign of Cole or Dominic and the gnawing worry in my gut starts to fester. “What the hell can they be talking about up there?” I ask Taryn, as if she knows.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it either.”

  “They should have been down—”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you,” a thick accent murmurs against my ear from behind, his fingertips grazing my shoulder. Armond. My body jerks in response as a chill runs through my veins. I turn toward him and he offers a smile, but it’s sly and malicious. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

  “Y-You, too,” I stutter out, and immediately want to smack myself for showing my nerves. He regards me for a moment before nodding and walking away.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Taryn asks.

  “One of the guys from upstairs,” I mumble, my eyes still on his back until he disappears out of view. “C’mon,” I say, grabbing her arm and running toward the stairs. We ascend and as I hit the landing, Cole and Dominic come into view. They’re crouching toward each other on the couch, scowls prominent and voices low.