Page 71 of Shadow Dance

“I don’t want to drag them into this.”

“Why not?” I push. If her brothers are the kind of men I think they are, one phone call could potentially end all of this.

“Callum’s got connections on the East Coast. He’s already threatened to call in a favor if I involve my family.”

I want to tell her that’s bullshit, that Cal’s empty threats mean nothing, but I’m not the one he assaulted. I remember what my mom was like. I remember the excuses she made, the shame and the way she’d shut down.

A lot of the hold that Callum has on Maeve is mental.

“Listen to me,” I whisper. “Lay low. Give me a few more days and then we’ll go. A week tops, I promise.”

Her face crumples, and she nods, squeezing my hand.

“I’ll get you home,” I say, and I will. Somehow, whether it’s on my own or through official means.

But I can’t act rashly—too many people are depending on me. Is onegirl worth three years of an investigation? The answer is yes, obviously. Maeve’s life is worth everything. But taking down the Oliveras and De Leon empires would mean saved lives, too. Ultimately, Maeve will be safer when Cal and his uncle are officially out of the picture.

“He left, I guess?” Maeve asks after a moment, letting her curls swing forward.

I resist the urge to tuck her hair back. I don’t want her to feel like she has to hide from me, not even something like this. But I understand. My mom had her share of black eyes, and she never wanted me to see them, either.

“Yeah. He had to run an errand for Dario.”

“Of course, he did.”

“Did he do anything else?” I ask, scanning the rest of her. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, so I can’t see much.

But then she tugs on her collar, pulling it away to show me the bruising on her neck. A bitter taste fills my mouth at the sight of those purple marks, a venomous mix of rage and guilt because I wasn’t there to protect her. Hadn’t I felt it? The wrongness of letting her go with him, knowing what he could do? It’d seemed almost paranoid at the time, but now I realize how right my instincts were.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking her into my arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She wraps her arms around me, her tears dampening my shirt.

I stroke her hair as she cries, the firestorm of my anger shrinking to a small, blue flame in the center of my chest. I don’t know if prison is enough for someone like Callum. I don’t know if I can let him off that easily.

I’m going to call Leo.

Chapter 21

Maeve

Ideally, I wouldn’t have seen Jaime for another couple of days, giving the swelling time to go down so I could hide the severity of my black eye with makeup. But, of course, Callum’s stupid ass had to call him to make sure he came back early—God forbid I spend even a second at this house alone.

I’m surprised Callum even went to that deli by himself, although he made it back in record time. I guess he was really trying to grovel, getting me my favorite soup and salad. Besides, he knew I couldn’t go far without a car and—to his knowledge—a license.

It’s not that I’d have lied to Jaime, or even downplayed what happened, but it’s demeaning enough as it is without the visual proof. There is something so humiliating about looking like this, knowing that my own boyfriend did it to me.

Sure enough, Callum is an overly solicitous pain in the ass when he gets back from his errand. He finds me in the kitchen, thumbing through my recipe book while nursing a beer. Jaime rises from the couch in the living room, where he went to sit when we heard Callum pull up.

“Call me if you need me,” he says, letting himself out the back door.

Callum watches him go, rubbing the nape of his neck. “So, I uh, got you those cookies you like,” he says, resting a box on the counter.

“Thanks,” I murmur, my eyes never leaving my notebook.

“Yelena’s scheduled for Monday, but I’m thinking we should have her come tomorrow?—”

“No, don’t,” I say. “Let her enjoy the weekend. I don’t want anyone else seeing me like this.”