Page 10 of Shadow Dance

“Sure,” I say, brushing by. “Nice place.”

He grunts, nodding.

Sliding my hands into the pockets of my joggers, I follow him into the living room. The expensive, minimalist décor is offset by an enormous TV—it must be at least 100 inches—and a gaming system I would’ve given my left arm for as a teenager. “How’d things go after we left last night? You figure out who the shooters were?”

Callum rubs his hand over the stubble on his chin. His dark eyes are bloodshot, and his nose is red, like he’s either high or has some serious allergies. “Still following the trail of breadcrumbs, but probably some fuckers with a vendetta,” he says with a grim smile. “You know how it goes.”

“Pretty serious vendetta,” I say.

“Yeah, well, the game’s not for the faint of heart,” Callum responds, sinking onto a sleek, leather couch. His eyes meet mine, steady despite their tiredness, as he gestures for me to take a seat. “Some people think I need to stay in my lane, but that’s not your problem.”

It is if I’m going to be associated with him, but I let his words slide. “Talk to me about your girl. What exactly does the job entail?”

“Maeve needs a bodyguard.” He closes his eyes, exhaling. “All the time, but especially when I’m not around, which is a lot. She doesn’t really want one, but it’s not up to her. Not after what happened last week.”

“And what was that, exactly?”

“Uncle Dario told me he talked to Cedro about this,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“He did, but I want to hear it from you,” I say evenly. “I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“She was coming home from the store in my car one night, and some fucker coming the other way got in her lane. She barely swerved in time, almost went off the cliff.”

Ipause, thinking of the road I took to get here. It’s narrow in some places, with turns that are so tight they’d qualify as switchback. It’s dangerous just by default. “You think it was intentional?”

“I know it was,” he snaps. “They obviously saw my car and thought it was me driving.”

“Sounds like youneed a bodyguard then, too.”

“I have Griff,” he says. “But I need someone I can trust with Maeve. She doesn’t know this, but a couple days after the incident I got a text from some random number. It was a picture of her leaving physical therapy.”

“Just a picture? It didn’t say anything?”

“Didn’t have to.” Callum shakes his head. “The message came through loud and clear.”

“Why’s she in physical therapy?” I ask, caught on that detail.

“She was,” he corrects. “Not anymore. She fucked up her ankle in a ballet class. Hasn’t been the same since.”

She hasn’t been the same, or her ankle?

“Anyway, her car’s in the shop, which is why she was driving mine,” he explains. “She’s not getting hers back, though. It’s a piece of shit and I don’t want her driving around by herself anyway.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“She doesn’t like this arrangement,” he warns. “She’s got a mind of her own … doesn’t like being told what to do.”

I nod, giving a slight shrug.Who does?

“You’re not the first driver she’s had,” he says with a sigh. “The other guy didn’t work out. She said he gave her the creeps.” Callum looks back at me, the half-smile curving his lips at odds with the cold glint in his eyes. “Don’t give her the creeps, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” I say dryly. Maeve isn’t the real reason I’m here, so I don’t plan on interacting with her enough for her to get ‘creeped out.’ But I’ll have to be likable—I can’t keep an eye on Callum’s operations if I get fired because of petty personality clashes.

“Like I said, I travel a lot. And I’m busy even when I’m in town.” Standing, he leads me over to the French doors at the rear of the room. “I need you nearby at all times,” he says, pointing outside. “We have a guest house you can stay in.”

I peer through the glass, at the patio and the pool. On the other side,nestled in the trees, is another structure built in the same style as this one.

“It’s small, but it has its own kitchen and everything,” Callum says. “You think you can make it work?”

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