Page 69 of Callum

Nineteen: Stronger Together

ROSALIND

Theo spends the first three hours that Callum is gone putting the living room to rights. He scrubs blood from the carpet, wipes brains from the walls, and even gets the dried splatters out of the cloth couch. The big man talked the whole time, mainly about his cleaning solutions and what chemicals should never be mixed, and he didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t adding anything to the conversation.

“Are you one of the Cleaners, then?”

His laugh is a deep but joyous sound, and I wonder where he gets all that positivity from. The man is cleaning up his friend’s murder, and he’s still laughing. “No, I’m not. My little brother was, though.”

“Grady?”

“You know him?” That gets a surprised look shot my way, and I can’t help but smile. I only met Callum’s best friend once, but he’s a hard man to forget. And not just because he’s on TV playing professional baseball eight months out of the year. He’s like Theo: imposingly large but sunny as fuck.

“I met him once. He was nice,” it feels like an important detail to add. In my experience, people get protective of their siblings. They don’t like when you talk shit about them and will always preen when you praise them—exactly like Theo is doing now. His barrel chest puffs with pride at me calling his little brother “nice”.

“He’s a good kid. I’m glad you met him before.” Theo doesn’t elaborate on what that means, even as silence descends between us.

I’m about to break and ask, “Before what?” when Theo’s phone rings. He moves to the back of the house, keeping his eyes trained on the exits as he murmurs to whoever is on the other end of the line.

“Who was that?”

“Merrick,” Theo hums, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “He needs someone to do a run later this week.”

I can’t keep the surprise out of my tone when I ask, “Merrick called you?”

Theo misinterprets my question, a slight frown pulling at his brow. “Yeah. He’s the Armourer.”

“No,” I huff, spinning in my chair to face toward the kitchen. “I thought they were still in Church.”

Theo’s frown deepens, but his voice remains light. “Church would have ended an hour ago. Merrick was back at Peaks.”

If Merrick had enough time to make it across town to his bar, then Callum had enough time to make it to…wherever the fuck this safe house is. Callum told me we’re still in Forest Falls, so it can’t be more than thirty minutes from the Church. “Where is Callum?”

“He should be back soon.”

“No, he should be back already.”

“I don’t think he—”

“Theodore,” his name is little more than a growl. “Call him.”

—

“Get out of my fucking way, Theo.”

The giant of a man raises both hands in front of his chest in what I imagine is supposed to be a placating gesture. “I can’t do that, Rosalind.”

“He could be dying!”

“Grant is looking for him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I’m going to have to kill this man if he doesn’t get the fuck out of my way. “You don’t fucking know that!”

Lights flash across the front of the house as a car pulls into the driveway. Theo’s eyes snap to mine, the warning clear as day. “Don’t, Rosalind.”

“Get out of my way, Theodore.”

“If it is him, he’ll come to the door.”

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