Page 5 of Callen's Captive
“Don’t,” he said, turning in her direction.
“I-I wasn’t going anywhere.” She hadn’t taken a step yet.
“Damn right. You’re staying with me until I can figure out what to do.”
“I. . .” she cleared her throat. “I don’t even know your name.”Don’t ruffle the shifter’s feathers, Kate, or pull his tail. Heck, that doesn’t sound right.There had to be a good wolf shifter comparison, but her brain was still stuck on the way he’d said ‘don’t.’ Well, she didn’t take orders from bullies, even very well put together bullies. As casually as she could, Kate shrugged her backpack off and slipped her hand in. She never took her eyes off of him as she rooted for the gun she had hastily shoved in there.
“I’m Callen,” he said, with a slight dip to his head. His shoulders eased as did his stance, tension leaching from his body at that moment as if sharing his name was a huge step for him. Maybe it was.
“Hi, Callen,” she replied, smiling as her hand finally found the gun. She knew it was foolish to trust a guy because he gave her his name, but somehow that little offering of his name made her relax. Kate released the gun in her bag.
“Hi, Katy,” he said with a deep breath and a smile that reached his eyes.
Oooh, he really needed to smile more. He had a killer smile that knotted a girl’s insides in a fun type of way. “It’s Katelynn, actually, though I prefer Kate. Katy. . . well somewhere along the line Anna started calling me that, but I don’t like it.”
“You didn’t correct her?”
She shrugged. “The way she said it, it seemed like a nickname. You know, something personal, like something a friend would call me.”
Callen offered his hand for a handshake. She accepted and gave a hearty shake, but nothing too forceful, just enough to let the guy know she wasn’t a weakling. “I guess that formalizes the introductions. By the way, that was a ballsy move back there.”
He cocked his head. “Which part?”
“Claiming me as yours. Black guy, white girl. Do the math.”
His face soured. Well, she certainly couldn’t blame him. Life was hard enough without a bunch of assholes judging a person by their appearance or circumstances. She’d been on the wrong end of that stick often enough to know.
“Color difference isn’t something we think about where I come from.”
“Well, welcome to my world where differences not only make you stand out, they get you kicked, beaten, and if you’re not careful, killed.”
He quirked a brow. “Are our differences going to be a problem?”
She couldn’t make him out, least of all what he wanted with her. “Depends on your intent.” When he continued watching her without saying anything, she added, “You got us out of there in one piece and that was the goal, right?”
“I would have gotten us out of there one way or the other, but I was trying not to kill anyone.”
“I. . . I don’t know what to say to that.” He’dkilledpeople before. A killer. She had trusted her life to akiller.
“I don’t like exposing myself as a shifter. It’s too risky but so is starting a fight when I’m outnumbered and have to worry about protecting you.”
“It’s not your job to protect me.”
“That’s something we need to discuss.”
“Tic toc.”
That same eyebrow lifted again.
“It means time’s wasting. Start talking.” She was starting to feel boxed in, trapped, and she didn’t like it.
“Not here. We’re too exposed. As soon as we’re back in the woods—”
“Woah, there. I’m not going anywhere with you, least of all the woods.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know you or what you want with me.”
