Page 52 of Unholy Obsession

Caleb hesitates. For a split second, something dark flickers across his expression before he masks it with a casual shrug. “Because it’s complicated. And because he wouldn’t want me wasting my time sitting in a prison visiting room when I have things to take care of here. He told me to take care of the club. To watch over myself and to never step foot in a place like that, even to visit him.”

I frown. “Well, something’s obviously changed his mind. It’s been years. He wants to see you now. That means something.” Then I perk up. “Bane volunteers at prisons. He could go with you.”

Bane shifts forward even as Caleb looks away. “I’d be happy to sit with the two of you. Sometimes having someone else there helps calm tensions.”

Caleb exhales sharply. “I don’t know.”

“The man raised you.” Marcus shakes his head. “Don’t you think he deserves at least a visit?”

Caleb tenses, but his voice is even when he says, “Silas doesn’t need me to visit to know where I stand.”

Something about his tone makes me pause. Caleb is fiercely protective of Silas. Always has been. But there’s something new here, something I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Well,” Quinn finally says, cutting through the tension. “If you do go, maybe let one of us come with you.”

Caleb’s lips twitch, a hint of amusement breaking through his carefully crafted defenses. “What, you want to hold my hand?”

“Someone has to,” I tease, nudging his arm. “You’re a handful.”

The moment lightens just enough for Caleb to chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ll think about it.”

The heaviness lingers for a beat before Quinn clears her throat. “Well. That’s enough broody male bonding for one night. Someone tell me something ridiculous.”

I settle back into my seat. The weight eases, laughter bubbles up, and for a while, everything is easy again.

I grin, straightening up. “Oh, I’ve got one. You know the cat rescue near the shelter where I volunteer? The one run by the old lady with the lavender hair?”

Caleb nods warily. “Yeah?”

“Well, I was walking by last week, and she flagged me down like it was an emergency. Thought something awful had happened. Turns out, she just needed someone to hold her purse while she tried to break up a fight. Between two cats.”

Marcus chokes on his drink. “A catfight?”

“Literally. One of them was her ‘star rescue’ named Lord Purrington. The other was a stray she called Bandit. Apparently, they’ve been arch nemeses for months.”

Caleb smirks. “And she just assumed you were the right person to mediate?”

I spread my hands. “I have the aura of someone who understands chaotic energy. Anyway, she threw herself right into the middle of it like a gladiator in a tiny floral sweater. I was just standing there holding her purse and wondering how my life came to this.”

Quinn wipes away tears of laughter. “Please tell me you got a video.”

“Oh, I wish. But I was too busy trying to dodge flying fur and old lady sandals.”

Isaak shakes his head, grinning. “That is… exactly something that would happen to you.”

Caleb lifts his glass in a mock salute. “To Moira, the official peacekeeper of the local cat mafia.”

I clink my glass against his. “Hey, someone’s got to keep the streets safe. And cats love me.”

Laughter ripples around the table, the tension from earlier dissipating completely. And as the conversation moves on, my thoughts drift again—to Bane and the night ahead.

Even as our gazes lock now, electricity sizzles through the connection. I squirm in my chair, feeling him everywhere even though he’s not even touching me.

“Oh, there’s my pain pig,” Quinn says, clocking someone just walking into the club area. She glances at her phone as she stands up, then clicks her teeth. “Two minutes late. Little shit. He’ll pay for that.”

She stalks over to him, barking, “On your knees, little piggie!”

The piggie in question absolutely lights up when he sees Quinn, then drops to his hands and knees obediently, head down.

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