Page 27 of War

An ominous chill skates over my flesh.Waves of goosebumps raise across the surface of my skin.Callan’s words sit like a stone in my chest.I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.We put one monster down tonight only for another to awaken.The world always finds a balance.

Shutters come down over Callan’s eyes.A dark fierceness stares back at me, the storm raging above and inside us both.“We need to go,” he states, rain dripping from his lips.

Leaving his bike, he takes my hand and jogs across the parking lot.The rain comes down harder, stinging as it bounces off my head.We climb the steps leading to the back entrance of the compound.Callan enters a keycode, disengaging the locks.Pulling the door open, he ushers me inside.My body quivers, the water penetrating the fabric of the sweats to my skin beneath.“What about your bike?”I mutter, jerking my chin at the door, the cold shaking my voice.

Pulling the door closed, he looks down at me.Our bodies are inches apart, our breathing strained.“I’ll get it later.”

The atmosphere has shifted since the call, a heaviness pushing down on us.“Callan,” I begin, placing a hand to his chest.He stops me by capturing my face in both hands and angling my head to his lips, brushing them over mine.Such a tender touch, so contradictory to the strong, formidable man who wields it.

Pulling away, he rests his forehead against mine, dragging his thumb along my jawline in delicate strokes as if everything between us is suddenly this fragile, breakable thing.

“Let’s get out of these clothes,” he whispers against my mouth.My core throbs at his words.I wish we had more time before potentially pulling the pin on the grenade sitting between us.

Callan reclaims my hand, and we head down the hall toward his room.A heavy thrum of music vibrates the walls.I’m guessing there’s a party in full swing by the sounds of laughter and chatter humming all around us.It’s such a contrast to what Callan and I have been doing, it’s comical in a sick, twisted way.The image of Monster covered head to toe in blood blasts through my mind, turning my stomach.

Edward Jarvis was an evil bastard.Even if he wasn’t the one responsible for Harley, he deserved everything he got tonight.But I’d be lying if I said being in the company of such evil doesn’t leave a dark stain on your soul.Spilling blood, taking a life, being an accomplice—it alters you.I’ve changed in so many ways since coming to the Kings.Hardened, grown.Even with all the hurt and chaos I’ve been through the last few months, I don’t regret coming here.Fate drew me home.

Callan slows to a stop when we reach the foyer.“Is Kitty here?”he asks Diamond, who’s mopping the floors like a mother hen.I offer her a smile, tucking wet, stringy strands of hair behind my ear.She fusses, wiping the puddle we’re making on the floor.

“Yes, she’s in the bar.”

More water drips from our clothes.“Sorry.”I cringe.

If she notices our odd attire, she doesn’t make it known.She waves a nonchalant hand.“It’s just water, darlin’.I’m happy to have you home.We all are.They’re waiting for you in the bar.”Home.I feel lighter hearing those words from her lips.

“Can you tell Kitty to come to my room?”Callan phrases the question, then turns, walking away before she can reply.

“Thank you, Diamond,” I call over my shoulder as Callan continues down the corridor with his hand still tightly clasped around mine.We enter his bedroom, and he immediately begins stripping me out of the soaked sweats.Moving in determined silence, he retrieves towels from the en suite and pats me down.He pauses when reaching my tattoo, his jaw flexing.My gaze is drawn to his throat as he swallows.I place a hand over his.“What are you thinking about?”

Tension coils the muscles in his neck.“That I don’t want things to change between us.”Images of us in that shower blaze through my mind, warming me all over.It’s hard to imagine anything affecting how I feel about him.

“Why would they change?”

His eyes lift to mine.“My dad’s awake, Rogue.We’re going to get the answers you’ve been seeking.”There’s so much sincerity in his voice and emotion spilling from his eyes that it weakens me to look at him.I didn’t think I would ever get answers from Jericho Cox and now I’m battling an internal war with whether I even want them.

If he admits to being the one who killed Harley, I’ll still want him dead.I don’t expect Callan to like that outcome, but he’ll have to accept it.

It will change everything.

“You said he’s not that kind of person.He wouldn’t have hurt her.”

“I know what I said—and I believe it.”His voice hardens, conviction wrapping around each word.It doesn’t match the fear in his eyes.

“So, you have nothing to worry about.”I palm his cheek, and feel the damp water on his skin.He’s taking care of me before himself.“It’s going to be okay.”The words leave my lips, but I’m not sure I believe them.

Seconds pass in silence.My heart hammers in my chest.His smirk falls into place, the vulnerability from moments before locked away once more.He takes my hand, kissing the knuckles.“I know it will be.”

Getting to his feet, he passes me the towel and walks back to the en suite.Noise of the cabinet door opening and closing filters out.I listen as he moves around in there.Nervous energy zaps through my blood, making me restless.I want to assure him that nothing his dad says will change anything, but I don’t.I can’t.Instead, I towel dry my hair and rummage through my things, finding clean, dry clothes.I slip on some panties, then a sweater and pants, the fabric harsh against my skin.Nerves eat away at my stomach.Nibbling on my lip, I sit and then stand.I can’t shake this horrible feeling everything is going to turn bad.

Callan walks back into the bedroom, slipping on a pair of jeans as footfalls sound outside the room.The bedroom door swings open, and I drop my ass onto the bed.

“What’s going on?”Kitty bursts in, clearly not learning her lesson from the last time she barged in here with me on her heel.God, Georgina in just a towel, acting like something went down between her and Callan feels like a lifetime ago.I can’t believe I let her manipulate the situation so much, I left the club—left Callan.

“You could have found me yourself, ass.”She glares at her brother as he rummages through his dresser for a shirt.“I was in the middle of cleaning house at the card table before you summoned me.”She waves an irritated hand in his direction when he continues to ignore her.“I’m not a dog who comes when you whistle.”I snort, and her attention turns to me.Her nose scrunches as she drags her gaze over my outfit.“I hope that’s not what you’re wearing to the party.”

Callan walks over to the bedroom door, slams it shut, and pulls a shirt over his head.“Dad’s awake,” he says once she’s finally taken a breath.He squeezes her shoulder.Tears well in her eyes, and he nods.

“Is he okay?”

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