Page 55 of Any Means Necessary

“We’re leaving,” Callum announces, pulling me a step towards the garage. I dig in my heels, pushing against his hold in an attempt to resist. His hand in my hair tightens painfully, keeping me on a very short leash.

“I can’t let him die. Let me help him.” He leverages his hold on me until I’m looking up at him, his gaze demanding to be my sole focus. “Please, Cal.”

“Once you’re in the car I’ll let you call for help and maybe they get to him in time.” His hand in my hair turns my head to look at the man bleeding out on the pavement, the man who will die. Because of me. “Or we can both stand here and watch as he bleeds out.”

In the close proximity, my chest presses against Callum with each shallow breath. His domineering presence engulfs me. I’m so overwhelmed with emotion, an eerie numbness settles over my body. I don’t want to leave Eric like this, he’s nice. But I don’t really have any other choice, not if leaving with Callum gives Eric a chance to survive. I can’t stand here and watch him die, I’ll never get over it.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what? Use your words, Lexie.” The words are said in both taunt and triumph.

“Okay, I’ll get in the fucking car.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his eyes lighting with victory. My loathing for this man swells, anger leaving a bitter taste in my mouth as I allow Callum to pull me away. Unable to help myself, I twist to cast a glance over my shoulder, trying to get one last look at Eric before we turn the corner. Roscoe’s crouching over him, probably promising to finish the job if Eric breathes a word to the authorities when the ambulance arrives.

True to his word, Callum pulls out his cell phone once I’m buckled in the car and allows me to call 911. Keeping it short and vague, I inform the operator that a man is bleeding out and provide her with the location before hanging up.

“Do you think they’ll make it in time?” I ask. Pulling out into traffic Callum holds out a hand for his phone, his expression telling me he doesn’t give a shit. Guilt gnaws at me, making me nauseous. My arms wrap around my middle, hugging myself in an attempt to stop feeling so sick to my stomach. Sirens sound around the corner and I pray that’s Eric’s rescue.

“Probably. If not, I’m sure his wife will make good use of his life insurance.”

“Wife?” I couldn’t have heard him right.

“Yes, wife.” Callum over enunciates the word. “Eric and Jenna have been married for three years now. He never mentioned that?”

“No, of course not.” Married? I’m gonna be sick.

“Then he probably didn’t mention their one year old daughter, Stevie.” My stomach rolls. “Seems like you both have a thing for wanting what already belongs to someone else.”

“Pull over. I’m going to be sick.” He has a daughter and a wife. Cheating bastard. Oh god, I’m not just a homewrecker. I probably just made some poor woman a widow and a baby girl fatherless.

“No, you’re not,” he says, weaving through traffic. “You’re going to breathe slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

“You’re a sick bastard. The fact that you probably just killed someone in broad daylight doesn’t bother you at all.”

“No, it doesn’t. His decisions led him there, just like yours led you here,” he states, swinging the car into the parking garage.

“Going on a date with someone you met online doesn’t mean you deserve to die. Cheater or not.”

“That fucker deserves worse that what I did to him. I would say that you should really try to pick better next time, but there isn’t going to be a next time,” Callum says darkly.

As soon as the car is in park, I’m wrenching the car door open. Callum’s getting out right behind me, slamming his door shut behind him. When his hand grasps my elbow to stop me, I whirl on him.

“There was no way for me to know he’s married.” I’m practically shouting, my voice echoing off the walls of the parking garage. “Eric isn’t a monster, he’s not like you. He was fun to talk to. It’s next to impossible to find guys on dating apps that aren’t total creeps, let alone ones who can carry a conversation. And he was nice.”

“Nice.” He snarls the word like it disgusts him.

“Yes, nice,” I repeat, seething. “You wouldn’t understand that, Callum. You’ve never done anything for anyone that wasn’t directly profitable to you in some way. But some people actually care about others without wanting something from them.”

“Oh really? Here.” Reaching into his pocket, Callum pulls out something and tosses it at me. I catch it, confused. It’s a tiny ziplock about the size of my palm holding about half a dozen small white tablets.

“What is this?” I ask, agitated. He’s trying to distract me from the point.

“That’s Rohypnol. I found it in that asshole’s wallet,” Callum says. “I wasn’t going to show you this, but since you seem to think he’s so nice.”

“Rohypnol?” I stare at the tablets, my mind racing.

“Apparently your date had a lot more planned for you than just dinner and drinks. He definitely wanted something from you, whether you were willing to give it to him or not. Still think he’s not a monster?” he rumbles darkly. I shake my head, Eric’s friendly smile flashing through my mind. There’s no way. Callum could’ve gotten these anywhere.

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