Taken by Storm by Kelli Maine

under her hand, but he stayed relaxed when she touched him. Maybe he needed her with him after all.
    Her fingers ran over a round ridge in his pocket. She traced it and knew immediately what it was. Her ring. He was carrying it with him.
    The only thing keeping her heart from jumping out of her chest was the guest cottage door opening and a man coming out, tall and broad like MJ. The same dark, wavy hair. The same self-assured gait as he walked out into the yard with Rachael hanging back a few steps.
    Something heavy pressed against Maddie’s chest making it hard to breathe. Merrick was the image of an older MJ. It disoriented her, like she’d somehow slipped into the future.
    Maddie turned to MJ and studied his face. She didn’t want to miss a second. She wanted to know him when he was in his thirties. His forties. All his life.
    MJ’s eyes were lost, stuck on the man in front of them as he parked the golf cart and sat frozen behind the steering wheel. Maddie still struggled to breathe and hoped Merrick would make the first move.
    Tentatively, Rachael approached Merrick and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him forward. Maddie took her cue and squeezed MJ’s leg again. “You have to get out,” she whispered.
    He inhaled sharply and blinked a few times, coming out of whatever thoughts were spinning through his mind.
    Slipping one leg out, then the other, he stood tall and strode forward, no hesitation in his step. Times like these, Maddie was thankful for his over-inflated ego that took over. He knew how to handle himself and could flip the all-business side of himself on in an instant, drowning what he was thinking and feeling in the dark depths of his eyes.
    Maddie got out of the cart and stood beside it. She’d never been so grateful for anything in her life. After all these years, he was here—MJ’s dad was here and they were face-to-face—and she got to be part of it.
    She blinked back the wetness in her eyes as a familiar warm band of emotion—she could name it if she let herself—wrapped around her heart.
    Merrick, with the sleeves of his white oxford shirt rolled up and the top couple buttons undone, stopped in front of MJ and studied his face with the most amazed and stricken expression Maddie had ever seen on a person. “You’re MJ,” he said.
    “I’m MJ.” MJ stood tall in front of his father, though an inch or two shorter. His arms hung at his sides, his chin stiff and tilted up as Merrick took him in.
    “I’m…” Merrick glanced over his shoulder to Rachael. She smiled, encouraging him.
    “Merrick,” MJ said, lifting the tension. Neither of them wanted to use the “D” word.
    “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Merrick said, holding out his hand to shake his son’s. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I didn’t know you existed.”
    MJ shook his hand. “I know.”
    “I’ll make it up to you.” Merrick had the same dark eyes as MJ. They had the power to hypnotize, to make you believe every word. “Let’s go for a walk. We have a lot to talk about.”
    MJ nodded, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he was letting something go, something he’d held on to tightly for too many years. His eyes darted to Maddie’s, then away again.
    She knew in his mind he was merging his past and his present, trying to figure out how all the pieces fit—
if
they would all fit.
    Merrick and MJ took a few awkward steps, side-by-side,attempting a relaxed, friendly stroll. She wanted to tag along and hear every word. She’d played out this moment in her head a thousand times over the years, sometimes with MJ and other times alone in her bed at night. She never once stopped praying for this day to come.
    But, as the two of them headed in the direction of the woods, dread seeped into her stomach. They’d visit the grave with the angel on top. The grave that held nothing but secrets and lies.

Twelve
    U nease crept over MJ. Not because he was taking a leisurely walk with his dad