Page 25 of War

“I believe him,” Monster declares.My gaze whips to his.

“Really?”

“Just fucking kill me.It wasn’t me.”

“All those other girls he killed, though.”Monster cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders, and walks over to a row of cabinets.Opening one up, he pulls out a tray of tools.Knives, pliers, a drill, something that looks like a bone saw…

“I’ve heard enough,” I tell Callan, handing him the blade.I turn on my heel, leaving them to take him apart.

“Take your time,” Callan instructs, handing Dodger his knife.Then he takes me by the elbow and guides me down the hall to a shower room.This torture building has everything.It’s well thought out.How much blood stains the drains here?

Shower stalls line the back wall.Every inch of this room boasts tiles, floor to ceiling.There are a couple urinals and shelves holding towels.A large cabinet is the only thing wooden in here.

“Do you think it was him?”I ask as he leads me to one of the stalls.

“If it was, they’ll get it out of him.”He rubs down my arms, coaxing me to lift so he can remove my blood-splattered top.

“And if it’s not?”Tears are in my eyes as I look up at my savior, hope growing like a seed in my chest for the first time since finding out about Harley’s death.

“Then we just rid the world of a piece of shit.And we’ll keep doing it until we find the one who is responsible.”He unbuttons my jeans, shoving them down my legs.

I kick out of them and whisper, “Thank you.”Wiping my hand across my nose, I drop my gaze.“For helping me—for doing this for her,” I weep, all my strength fleeing.The crimson stains are sticky on my hands.I want to hold them toward the sky and scream her name.

“I gave Monster one of Harley’s bullets to finish him with.”He slips off his cut and places it on a hook behind my head.

I think that’s the first time he’s said her name.If he’s been looking into her death, he would have seen her report, her autopsy, and images of her on record.We look a lot alike.I wonder the toll that would have taken on him.“I’ll never forget what you’ve done here, Callan.”

Grasping my face, he lifts my gaze to his.The intensity of his eyes causes a whimper to whisp past my lips.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to give you any semblance of peace.”Placing a hand over my heart, he adds, “I fucking love you, Rogue.”His words steal the air from my lungs.My heart accelerates, fear and exhilaration swirling within me.A foreign calm washes over me as I let his words penetrate.

“I think I’ve been falling for you since before we even met—when your image smirked up at me from a photograph.It terrifies me.”

“Why?”He unclasps my bra and drags it down my arms, discarding it with the pile at our feet.

“Because when you love someone, you can lose them.And that fear is unbearable.I can’t go through it again.”The idea of losing Callan turns the world dark.I’d be adrift forever in the abyss.

“You’ll never lose me, Rogue.I’ll always find you.”

It’s hard to fathom how quickly he’s come to mean the whole damn world to me.

“Say it, Rogue,” he demands, tearing his shirt over his head.Turning on the shower, he kicks his jeans off and tugs me beneath the spray.“Say it,” he repeats, his voice hard, commanding.I allow my happy tears to stream with the rainfall of the shower.

“I love you, Callan.”Joy expands in my chest.I found where I belong.

Slipping my panties down my legs, he says, “I’m going to fuck you now.”Our bodies collide in a heated explosion of lust, love, and desperation.We cling to each other, our bodies in sync as I wrap my legs around his waist and he lifts me, pushing me against the tiled wall.

Skin on skin, his hard cock grinds between my pussy lips, stroking my clit, flooding my cunt with arousal.My nipples harden from the friction of our bodies dancing.Devouring my mouth with his, I relish in his taste, our tongues sparring.He tastes like warm champagne on the fourth of July.

Every caress gains a response from my body, awakening every nerve-ending.I feel drunk on him.So fucking high, I can barely breathe.All the fear, sorrow, and apprehension that led us here evaporates.We embrace our nature, clawing, biting, mauling each other.Competent hands stoke the fire inside me.His large, muscled body covers mine, claiming me.He’s magnificent.Rough hands fist in my hair, snatching my head back, his teeth dragging across my jawline.

“Tell me to fuck you, Rogue.Beg me to fill you up until all you feel is me and my dick.”His voice is strained.The floodgates of the shower cascading around us camouflages us from everything happening outside this room.

The air around us crackles, the embers of our fire gaining momentum as his hands grope, explore, claim.Those compelling, dark, all-consuming eyes bore into me.

“Fuck me like you own me, Callan.Show me whose pussy this is.”

The pressure inside me is at a boiling point.There’s no guilt, no shame, just a rush of euphoria as he thrusts inside me, fireworks exploding behind my eyes.A collision of senses exploding all at once.Grinding his hips, he fucks me hard, filling me up and spreading me wide.I feel my heartbeat in every part of my body.

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