Page 65 of Any Means Necessary

“Alright,” I agree, scooching forward on the cushion. “Shoot.”

“Tell me about the nightmares.” Callum doesn’t bother with small talk, there’s no beating around the bush. Instead, he plows straight to the point. This isn’t something I wasn’t planning on sharing with him—or anyone outside my therapists office.

I narrow my eyes as I mull it over. Callum sits patiently, watching and waiting. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the story.

“It was two weeks before my contract at New York Presbyterian ended, I was scheduled for a three day stretch of twelve hour shifts. A trauma came into the ER, a bus was hit by a semi truck. The wreck was so bad, they were carting some of the victims in several pieces.” I can’t help the tears that mist in my eyes, so I pull my gaze away. Tilting my head back to look up at the ceiling, I will the waterworks to recede. When the first tear falls down my cheek despite my best efforts, I close my eyes instead. “I’ve seen a lot of carnage in my job, a lot of car accidents. But not like that.”

A shaky breath escapes me, anxiety dragging at my stomach at the memories. Biting my lip, I force out a calming breath before opening my eyes and lowering my chin. Callum sits silently, patiently. His eyes never leave my face, and a line forms between his brows.

“There were eighteen patients; seventeen from the bus, and the truck driver. Fifteen of them were between six and seven years old. It was a school bus.” I can’t help the sob that escapes me. Closing my eyes again, strong arms wrap around me and I’m being pulled onto Callum’s lap. His body envelopes mine, his solid frame settling some of the panic inside me as I’m tucked under his chin.

“A class of first graders were going on a field trip to the Museum of Natural History. It was their first real trip away from the school as full-day students.” My voice trembles, shoulders shaking as I suck in shallow breaths. Callum doesn’t say a word, somehow knowing that I need to get this out. “One of the little girls, Andie Brentwood, was crushed from the neck down. Every one of her organs was affected, and she was bleeding out internally.

“She kept asking me when she could see the dinosaurs, she said she sold cupcakes for the money to buy her ticket. All of the operating rooms were filled with other children who had better chances of survival. Andie Brentwood bled out forty-three minutes after the crash, holding my hand. Her parents weren’t there yet, they couldn’t get to the hospital because of the traffic caused by the accident.”

Andie’s face flashes behind my closed eyes; curly blonde hair, wide brown eyes lit with pain, and two missing front teeth. I have to open my eyes before the image breaks me. “Three kids out of fifteen survived. Two of them are expected to fully recover, one will be in a wheelchair the rest of his life. The bus driver and the teacher died at the scene.”

“And the truck driver?” Callum’s voice is gentle, his nose pressing into my hair. I can’t help the small huff of disgust at the memory of the man who caused the horrific massacre.

“He walked out of the ER that same day with just a few cracked ribs from the seatbelt and a broken nose from the airbag.” Hatred burns in my stomach at the thought. “He was high on opiates. He never tried to slow down, didn’t even touch the brakes before impact.”

“Was he arrested?” Callum asks. I nod against his chest.

“He was walked out in cuffs. But he shouldn’t have been able to walk at all.” I’d never considered murdering someone until I saw the balding man shuffled out of the ER with barely a scratch. “People like Carl Suco don’t deserve to live after taking away so much life from this world.”

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. They always do.” There’s something in Callum’s voice, a dark promise, that settles the animosity growing inside me. “When you get nightmares, what do you see?”

Curly blonde hair, wide brown eyes lit with pain, and two missing front teeth.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see the life drain from Andie Brentwood’s eyes. I see Tess Webb’s body severed in half at the spine. I see Adnan Fasil impaled by a bus seat. I see so many bright young lives destroyed and ripped away too soon, and there’s nothing I can do to save them. I can’t help them.”

I suck in deep shaky breaths to regulate my breathing and calm my erratic heart rate. Callum remains silent as I sit in his arms, trying to calm down before my panic attack can fully form. It takes several long minutes before I’ve pulled myself together enough to speak again.

“Sorry,” I breathe, pulling away from his chest to sit up straight. Forcing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly in an attempt to regain my composure. “I’m fine.”

Callum’s hand takes my chin and turns my face to look him in the eye. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Dewdrop. You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.” His thumbs brush away my tears tenderly. Gazing into his eyes, I’m being drawn into him. Our mouths are a breath away, and my heart rate stutters.

He’s being so unbelievably sweet, it’s overwhelming. The urge to kiss him is too strong, and when he glances at my lips I don’t hold back. Leaning in, I brush my lips against his.

Callum takes the invitation like I knew he would, using his hand on my face to pull me into him. He doesn’t rationalize that I’m emotional and vulnerable, he doesn’t care. This greedy, demanding man will take everything I freely give him without question or pause, just as long as I’m sober and willing.

And god, am I willing.

His lips capture mine in a kiss so deep that I feel it all the way to my toes. Fire licks through me as our mouths move together, and I want more. I always want more with Callum, it’s like we can never get enough of each other. I shift on his lap, sliding one of my legs across until I’m straddling him. Without hesitation his hand slides up my thigh to palm my ass.

He keeps it slow, drinking me in like he could kiss me like this forever. There’s no hurry, no frenzy. Even when I feel him harden against my ass, there’s no attempt to deepen things. He takes his time, exploring my mouth; nipping, licking, sucking. And I’m lost in him. Just as I’m getting dizzy, he releases me.

Pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips, I sit back on his lap. He brushes the hair from my face, cupping my cheeks in his large hands. “Is that why you’re always in the kitchen in the middle of the night?” he asks. I nod against his hands.

“I’ve only gotten a few good hours of sleep in the last few weeks.” The night I spent in Callum’s bed after having sex in the bathroom comes to my mind—the only hours of restful sleep I’ve had since the trauma. Callum catches it before I avert my eyes.

“Tell me,” he insists, lowering his head to catch my gaze. I might as well, I’m in too deep now anyway. With what I’ve shared tonight, so raw and deep, it’s just a drop in the bucket at this point.

“When I was in your bed, and you laid on top of me,” I admit. Warmth floods his eyes, the edges of his face softening. And there’s something else that flashes across his expression, something primal that looks a lot like satisfaction.

“I wore you out,” he rasps.

“I felt safe.” It’s the truth, the realization hitting us both at the same time. He brings my mouth back to his, kissing me soundly. I speak against his lips, “You owe me at least five truths after all this.”

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