Page 95 of Any Means Necessary

I still, my body shifting from fiery hostility into cold contempt. He can’t possibly think that. Callum, the man who holds me at night so I can sleep—who makes sure I drink enough water and watches over me so diligently—can’t possibly have just said that. Because if this is how he truly feels, then I don’t know him at all. This complete disregard for the wellbeing of others is staggering.

Devastating.

“Is that what you’d say if it was me?” I ask, despair weighing heavily on my chest. “I know who I’m sleeping with, or at least I thought I did. Am I going to pay for your sins with my life?”

“Of course not,” Callum replies tursely, bracing his hands on his desk like he needs the support. “I’d never let that happen.”

“I’m sure the man who just lost everything told the mother of his child the same thing.”

“It’s different for us and you know it.”

“Do I? You clearly don’t value human life, I’ve seen it firsthand. So why am I trusting you to protect mine? That woman had a name. Do you even know it? Did you even bother to find out?”

“Lexie—”

“Of course not. Why would you bother with details like that, they’re irrelevant to you. You’re just a machine—a cold, calculating computer only weighing risks for profit and nothing else.”

“Not with you, Dewdrop.” He steps around the desk, but I take a responding step back.

“I can’t even look at you.” I shake my head, a tear falling down my cheek and landing on my chest. The second tear slides down more slowly, dramatically, making Callum frown.

“Wait, come back,” he says, voice strained as I turn on my heel to walk out the door. “Lexie!”

I think I love him, but how can I love a man like this? I believe so strongly in the importance of innocent human life and what they can bring to the world. It’s why I chose to work in medicine—to help people. How can I possibly love a man who destroys lives without so much as a second thought? A pregnant woman and her unborn child used as a fuse to blow up a man’s life. Callum’s not just a killer, he’s a robot—devoid of any capacity for human emotion. So how can I love him? And how can he possibly care about me?

He hasn’t told me that he loves me, but it’s there—between every word he speaks, in every look. It’s implied with every bottle of water and stroke of my hair at night. But he’s never said it, and I’m an idiot for thinking he does. That he even can. Maybe this whole time I’ve been looking for signs of something that doesn’t exist.

“Where are you going?” He’s right behind me, towering over me with each step as I move through the penthouse in search of an escape. I can’t deal with him right now. Or maybe ever again after what he’s done. Right now it feels impossible to ever get past this.

“Anywhere but here.” I just want to curl up in my bed and cry. Alone.

“Stop, we can talk about this.” There’s an edge to his voice, one I haven’t heard before. It’s panic.

“We did talk, and there’s nothing left to say. What’s done is done, you can’t take it back. No returns.” My anger has his own words coming at him like bullets in a loaded gun. The ammo hits him right where I aimed, dead center.

Kill shots.

“Don’t fucking say that.” The dark edge in his husky voice is raw with conviction. When I reach my room, his hand on my arm catches me. I shake off his touch, batting his hand away. It’s a small relief when he takes the hint and steps back.

“Leave me alone.”

“Let me in, Lexie,” Callum insists, stepping into the doorway so I can’t close the door. So I can’t shut him out. He’s radiating concern, his passionate eyes on me silently pleading.

“You said you’ll always give me what I need,” I remind him, the tears now streaming down my face freely. “Right now I need to be alone, and away from you.” The tremble in my voice is unmistakable.

A line appears between his brows as he reaches out and swipes a tear from my top lip, his fingers surprisingly gentle compared to how rigidly his body is crowding the doorway. Each muscle is tightly coiled, no doubt fighting the urge to force his way into the room and throw me over his shoulder.

“I’ll give you anything. Anything but that,” he rasps. I inch away from him, putting space between us. When he reaches for me again, I avoid his touch.

If he doesn’t leave, if he keeps insisting, I’m going to cave and let him in. My desperation for him to leave wars with my need for him to wrap me in his strong arms and hold me. Callum is the reason I’m so devastated, but he’s also the one person who can take all the pain away.

“I need you to go. Are you going back on your word?” A sob escapes me, and I need to wrap my arms around my middle to keep myself together. I’m about to crumble, and seeing the pained look in Callum’s hazel eyes only pushes me closer to the edge.

“No,” he grounds out through clenched teeth, his eyes searching my face intently.

“Then walk away.” I stare him down, even when tears blur my vision. Callum’s arms move to reach for me again, but he thinks better of it and pulls them back—instead crossing them over his chest, like it’s the only way to keep them to himself.

“I’ll let you close this door, but I’m not walking away from you.” His tone is low, and rough with something that sounds a lot like emotion.

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