Quiet Storm, Season 2, Episode 6 (Rising Storm) Read Online Free

at it before she headed upstairs to bed. The four store-bought cookies. The paper with the raw, spiral edge. It looked pathetic. But it also looked like a first step.
    And right then, first steps were all that Celeste could handle.
     

Chapter 3
    Joanne Alvarez wasn’t supposed to be here. She’d told her husband, Hector, that she was running to the market to get potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight, but instead she’d come here to Tate Johnson’s campaign office to sneak in a little work this Saturday evening.
    Technically, she was still his campaign manager, but as far as Hector was concerned, she was no longer employed. For that matter, Hector didn’t really believe she’d ever been employed. At least not in a job as organized and responsible as a campaign manager. He seemed to think she was sleeping with Tate Johnson. As if that was all she was good for.
    Dammit, that wasn’t all she was good for. She’d been doing an excellent job—building an incredible life—and Hector had to go and ruin it all by coming back. She didn’t want him here— she didn’t —but what could she do? She couldn’t push him away, because he’d push right back. He’d hurt her, but more important, he’d hurt her children. She’d spent more than twenty years protecting her children, and she’d become expert at it. Maybe she paid a price, but her kids were worth it. And what choice did she have? Hector was a monster, and he’d do whatever it took to win.
    More important, he’d hurt anyone who stood in his way.
    She shuddered, thinking of her son, Marcus, and the man who was his father in spirit if not by birth. Ian Briggs. Hector had seen the bond between those two. He knew he’d lost his son. And Joanne was determined to deflect any wrath that Hector might be about to unleash toward Marcus.
    It wasn’t ideal, but when had her life ever been ideal?
    These last few weeks. Working for Tate. Spending time with Dillon. With her children.
    She frowned at the thought. It might be true, but that wasn’t her life anymore. Hector had come back.
    And that changed everything.
    A board creaked loudly in the hall outside Tate’s closed office door, and Joanne jumped. Her heart pounded as she saw the doorknob turn. She knew it wasn’t Tate—he was in Austin this weekend—and her mind spun as she tried to come up with a lie to pacify her surely irate husband.
    The door opened. Her chest tightened—and then she let out a whoosh of air in relief as Dillon Murphy strode inside.
    As quickly as her relief came, it was replaced by irritation. “What are you doing here?” Didn’t he know that Hector could come by any second? Didn’t he understand what Hector would do to Dillon?
    Most of all, he’d lied to her. He’d run Hector out of town and then played the innocent. And, dammit, even if maybe she understood why he’d done that—even if maybe she was even a little grateful—he’d just made things so much worse.
    “I was on the square. I saw you come in.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Joanne, we need to talk.”
    She pressed her lips together. It had been days since she’d seen him. Hector had been out of control and she’d been terrified, afraid that this time he’d cross the line. That he’d—
    She shuddered, remembering the coppery taste of fear. The certainty that this time her husband had gone too far and a trip to the ER wasn’t going to help her.
    But then there’d been a sharp knock on the door, and the sound had pulled Hector back from the brink. He’d still been seething, but for right then at least, the danger had passed.
    The man at the door had been Dillon. And even though she had begged him to go, she had been oh-so grateful that he’d come. He’d probably saved her life. He’d certainly saved her from more broken bones and bruises.
    And with the wind taken out of his sails, Hector had taken a six-pack and the remote into the living room, and had fallen asleep watching football while Joanne