Page 35 of Tempest’s Torment

I shake my head. "I can help."

"You have."

I let out a quiet sigh. "I feel bad."

"Don't." She keeps sweeping. "You look exhausted."

I give her a pointed look. "I've looked worse."

"You have,” she says deadpan and I laugh. "But not by much."

I pull on my coat, shoulder my bag, and pause as I reach the door. "Cara,” I call out and she looks up. "Thanks."

"For?"

"For today."

She studies me for a second before giving a small nod. "Get some sleep."

"I'll try."

"Good night, Lilah,” she says sweetly.

“Good night, Cara,” I reply.

I step outside, scanning the street; I don't even realize I'm doing it until I've checked both directions. Cars roll past, a city bus pulls away from the stop on the corner, everything looks normal, no black SUV. I let out a slow breath, adjust my bag on my shoulder, and start the walk home.

Tempest's outside when I get home. He's crouched beside his bike with the front wheel off, a wrench in one hand and a rag tucked into his back pocket. A handful of sockets are lined up on the ground beside him. He glances up as I turn into the parking lot.

"Hey," he greets me as I get closer.

"Hey," I reply.

He nods once and goes back to work. I should head inside; instead, I find myself slowing down.

"Everything okay?"

He looks up. "Bike."

I nod toward the wheel. "Oh."

"The bearing started grinding."

My brows knit together. "Is that bad?"

He shrugs slightly. "It would've been."

"But you caught it," I summarize.

"Yeah," he says, watching me closely.

I shift my bag higher on my shoulder. "I don't know the first thing about motorcycles."

"Most people don't."

"Good. I'd hate to be the only one."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "It'd be a short club meeting."