Page 41 of War

CHAPTER11

STORM

“Rogue!”Callan calls from behind me.I don’t stop.Moving with purpose, I catch the exit door as it starts to close, slipping through the sliver of space.

“Are you okay?”an older man asks, startling me.He’s hunched against a wall in a hospital gown, a walking stick holding him up.

“I honestly don’t know.”I laugh without joy.I take off running, navigating the halls in a haze of rage and almost colliding with a nurse.I don’t stop moving until I see the entrance.The doors open, and I get a few feet outside before Callan grasps my arm and spins me to face him, heat in his cheeks.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t run off again,” he puffs out.The wind howls, whipping against our bodies.

“I wasn’t running off,” I snap, struggling to reel my bitterness in.I’m so agitated, my bones are vibrating beneath my skin.“I just wasn’t sticking around to be insulted and threatened,” I spit out.

“He needs time,” Callan says.Whether he’s trying to convince me or himself, I’m not sure.

“And what if he never comes around?”

“He will.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

The sky weeps, the lashing of rain soaking us through.Thunder booms as the moon glows through a break in the clouds, mother nature mimicking the pain storming inside me.

“Maybe you won’t have a choice.”

He swallows, looking down at his boots.My heart screams for him as my chest cracks.

“Will you give me up?”I murmur, sounding so fragile it sickens me.I may as well take a knife and slice into my arteries—that’s what it will feel like if, after everything, he casts me out.

His gaze snaps to mine, and the intensity almost buckles my knees.He steps into my space, grasping my cheeks, angling my face to his.There’s so much passion written in his eyes that it steals my breath.

“You don’t seem to be listening to me.I’m crazy in love with you, Rogue.There is no giving you up.No choosing between you and him, or you and the club.It’s you and me.Period.”A tremor of energy cracks the sky as his lips crash against mine, absorbing the darkness, filling every crevice with light.With love.Withhim.The world around us pales into a muted fog.

He swipes his tongue into my mouth, and I groan.I press flush against his body, becoming drunk on his taste.Sniggering penetrates my ears, and I remember where we are.Pulling back, I scrub an errant tear from my eye with the side of my hand and chuckle, sniffling.A group of women look back at us, holding coats over their heads to ward off the rain.

Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, Callan nods toward the SUV.“Should we get out of here?”

“What about Kitty?”

“She’s going to call Tim.”

“Okay.”I nod.

The wind assaults us, picking up the rain that had settled on the ground, whipping it against our clothing.Taking my hand, Callan jogs to the SUV, opens my door, and practically lifts me inside.

Rounding the hood, he slips into his seat and blows into his hands, rubbing them together.Kicking over the engine and flipping on the heat, he pulls out of the space and takes a different route than the way we came.

After a few seconds of silence, I turn to him.“I don’t want to be the cause of a rift between you and your dad,” I admit.

“Rogue, he was out of line, no doubt about it, but we need to give him a little slack.He just woke up from a damn coma and nearly put himself back in one tonight.He and I will be fine.”

“It could have been worse, I suppose,” I muse, picking at a torn fingernail.

“Really?”He chuckles.“How?”

“He could have been the one who killed Harley.”

“You seemed shocked to hear it was her who shot him.”

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