Page 78 of Shadow Dance

A smile tugs at his mouth when he feels it. Biting his lip, he glances down to our point of connection and that’s it. He picks up the pace and then comes with a husky moan, his head thrown back as he loses himself inside me.

After a minute, he rolls off and lies sprawled, panting, his eyes closed as he recovers. Propping myself up on my side, I gaze at his plush lips, his messy hair, his long, dark eyelashes. The lines of his body, how very hard and toned he is to my soft and curved. I know what it’s like to have this man inside of me. How am I supposed to leave him now?

His beautiful brown eyes open. He runs his big, warm hand over my naked hip, squeezing it. “You okay?”

I nod, stretching up to kiss him. I just want to be close. I don’t know how the next few days are going to go, but I push all that out of my head.

I don’t want anything to sully this dream.

My life isall about lines being crossed. The drugs, the violence, the things I knew about but chose to turn away from. Callum crossed a line the night he hit me. I crossed one when I kissed Jaime and he crossed one when he kissed me in the woods. We crossed a big one today.

Actually, it was more like crossing a chasm and blowing up the bridge. There is nothing left back there, with Callum. We can never return to how things used to be, no matter how much he’s deluded himself otherwise.

Even so, a tiny sprout of guilt pushes through to the surface as I lie here, my head on Jaime’s chest while he strokes my hair. Sighing inwardly, I uproot that sprout and trash it. What happened between Jaime and me today, what’s been happening for weeks, is fine because as far as I’m concerned, I’m single. If my relationship with Callum had been a normal one, I’d be long gone already, back in Boston to heal and move on. But it isn’t normal. Callum got into my head with the guilt trips and the gaslighting and then later with the lies and threats. With fear. He made me question myself and everything I knew about myself,about us, which is probably why I feel guilty at all. It’s definitely why I’m still in the Bay.

Callum really loved that I was a down-to-ride girl, and I loved it too. It was almost a part of my identity. I stayed by his side, loving him and defending him even when that meant betraying my own heart and who I wanted to be.

But I’ve woken up. I’m still down to ride—for myself.

And maybe for a guy like Jaime.

Going home, everything feels different. There’s a peace in my heart I haven’t felt in a long time, like everything is going to be okay. I keep thinking about how in less than a week I’ll be back in Boston, protected and loved by my family. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid, though, because I am. My life has become so unpredictable. Anything could happen between now and then.

But at least my fear is tempered with hope. I don’t know exactly how Jaime will help me get out. I just trust that he will.

I know Callum’s done with his meeting because we saw him leave Dario’s place in San Anselmo, but he’s not home by the time we get back. Still, Jaime leaves me alone while he returns to the guest house. I know it’s imperative that we maintain appearances, but I hate it. It feels counterintuitive, like we should be closer than ever after a day like today.

After a long shower, I change into my pajamas and walk aimlessly around, listening to the wind howl up the hillside. Yelena was here earlier, evident by the stocked pantry, immaculate kitchen, and clean floors. It smells like she even started something in the crockpot. She does that sometimes. I think she feels sorry for me, but like anyone who works for the De Leons, she’s bound by silence. She keeps her mouth shut, does her job, and gets paid.

My stomach growls and I pad over to the crockpot, my mouth watering at the sight of what appears to be chicken and dumplings.

The front door opens. I replace the lid as Callum walks into the kitchen, seemingly troubled. “Hey,” he says, faltering when he sees me.

“Hey.” I frown at his subdued mood. “The meeting go okay?”

“Kind of.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “One thing about my uncle, he gets so fucking suspicious sometimes, you know? He was going onabout things he’s heard, and how he wants to make sure I’m staying in line and not going off on my own … like I’m a little kid.”

I chew my lip, not wanting to point out that Callum can be suspicious, too. And he does go off on his own. And sometimes he does act like a little kid. I’d wondered when Dario would figure out that Callum’s been taking liberties.

Pulling a beer from the fridge, he roots around the drawer for an opener. “How was your massage? They do a good job?”

It’s impossible to keep my smirk at bay. “They did. They … went really deep.”

“Good.” There’s a little hiss of released pressure as he opens his beer. “You deserved it."

I swallow the urge to say something rude. I deserve a hell of a lot more than a stupid massage, and we both know it. My silence probably communicates that because he clears his throat.

“Look,” he begins, taking a long swig of beer before setting it down on the counter with a clink. “I know things have been tense lately. Between us and with everything else.”

His words are familiar, the same placating rhythm he’s used a hundred times before. I nod, letting him say what he feels he needs to. It doesn’t matter anymore, not to me.

“Maybe it’s time we took a break from all this.” He gestures vaguely around him, but I sense he means more than just the house or the current circumstances. “You’ve been putting up with a lot of shit and I want to make it up to you. We can take a trip, just you and me. Get away for a minute. No one else.”

At one point, taking a vacation with just Callum would’ve sounded wonderful. Now it puts a stone in my stomach. He might be having an introspective moment now, humbled by the thought of losing me or—and this is more likely—his meeting with Dario, but it won’t last. It never does. Callum’s a ticking time bomb and until he gets help for his addictions and anger issues, he’ll be dangerous.

I don’t say any of that, though. I just give him a small smile, hugging him when he wraps his arms around me. He still smells the same, feels the same.

But nothing is the same.

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