Page 31 of Callen's Captive
Chapter Seven
CALLEN
Callen woke with a sense of alarm and dread, and he quickly realized why. He was alone. Just like that, Kate was gone. If anyone had lifted the door, he would have heard, but she had slid through the opening he’d created for ventilation. He hadn’t considered that.
He couldn’t even guess when in the middle of the night she had disappeared, not that it mattered. Apparently, he meant nothing to her, nothing at all. His wolf howled, demanding to be released, to be given the chance to track her. Callen wanted that too, but he wouldn’t do it.
He wouldn’t force himself on anyone, especially the woman he had started to think might be his other half. She’d left without even a goodbye. He had two choices. Respect her desire to be alone and leave her, or ignore what she wanted and watch over her.
Callen’s wolf howled inside of him. His wolf had never let him down. Despite his desire to respect her wishes, Callen couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Maybe never.
As he left the storage unit, he looked west toward home. This was the longest he’d ever been separated from his pack and friends. The need to return pulled at him, but Kate was the priority now, had been for days.
With one deep breath, Callen scented the air, searching for her unique aroma. Chemicals and car fumes filled his lungs, making him long for the clean air of home. Ah, there he’d found it. Hidden beneath all the offensive smells was his Kate, her sweet mix of honey and citrus.
For a moment he hesitated. She’d made her choice. He had no right to force her to accept his help. Then again, what if he was wrong about her and she wanted his help? His judgment had been off lately. Ever since what happened with Blade near the cabin.
That image of Blade beneath him, the look of death in the friend’s eyes as Callen clamped down on his throat, haunted him. Callen had misjudged the situation, and Blade had nearly paid for Callen’s mistake with his life.
Callen could sure use Blade’s rock-solid guidance right now, if he and Blade could reconcile. For the six years Callen had known Blade, the scout had been impulsive and hotheaded, but fiercely passionate when it came to doing what was right.
It was time Callen took a lesson from his friend and followed his heart. He wasn’t ready to let go of Kate. She needed him, even though she was too stubborn to admit it. No one could go up against the WSSO alone, even one gutsy and very smart woman. Callen owed it to her, to himself, to help her, even if that meant watching over her from a distance.
He followed her trail, faint though it was. The morning sun was strong, making it harder to pick up her scent as the scent molecules dispersed with the heat and wind. She’d left him without a word of explanation, and that angered him, but he promised her he would not jump to conclusions about her.
The last place he expected her trail to lead was a small cemetery near the edge of town. With her legs tucked beneath her and her go-bag at her side, she sat graveside, talking to whoever was buried there.
The first thought that went through his head was how exposed she was here. He’d counted three cameras alone on that last street she’d taken. And here she was in an open cemetery, during broad daylight without even the cover of trees.
All his irritation and anger drained away when he heard her choppy, emotion-filled voice. Her pain became his, which made no sense. He was an enforcer, a veritable brick wall when it came to crying and pain. Nothing ever affected him, except apparently the sound of her crying and the sight of her red, puffy face as she laid her head down on the mound of earth.
He could see the headstone now. Janie Jensen, age seventeen. She had died. . . Hell, thirteen years ago today.
This wasthatJanie, the one Kate had mentioned. She’d said something about leaving her foster home after something had happened to Janie.
Callen hated to intrude, but the open setting was making him antsy. Briggs and his men were still searching for her, as were a half-dozen or so sheriff’s deputies.
“Kate?”
Her right hand dug into the dirt on the grave. “Leave, Callen. This is private.”
“I know,” he whispered, wanting desperately to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but afraid she’d take it the wrong way. “But you’re not safe here, Princess.”
“You see that, Janie? He thinks he’s better than me, entitled to call me what he wants and to issue commands as if he’s in charge. Doesn’t care what I think or want. I’ve known him a handful of days and he thinks he has me figured out.”
“You’re angry. I get that.”
“Do you? Why am I angry?”
“Hell, Kate, I really wish I knew. I never meant to hurt you, to make you feel like I was ordering you around. I’m not good with words or people.”
He hated talking here, out in the open. Every bone in his body wanted to grab her and run from the cemetery to somewhere safe.
“What exactly do you want from me?” she asked, her face angry and her voice dripping with antagonism. “Sex? It’s usually what guys want, right?”
Callen scrubbed his hand over his face. “Look, Kate, all I know is that last night I went to sleep with you tucked in my arms. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world to get to hold you like that. I never slept so soundly before, and it certainly wasn’t because of that damn cement floor or the hole in my arm. And this morning I woke up scared because you were gone. I almost returned to my pack. Figured you’d had enough of me, but I couldn’t leave.”
“Why couldn’t you leave?” She sounded worried suddenly. “Were the woods blocked off?”
