Page 42 of Only The Strong

We walk into the clubhouse side by side and I look around to take in the sight. Immediately, the scent of cleaning products hit my nose, a much welcome improvement from the last time I was here. The lights are bright and a few girls are walking around in their push-up bras and little leather shorts. Saint’s gaze flicks up to us as we walk in. He leans over to the pretty brunette sitting next to him and whispers into her ear, smirking. A few tables and chairs are pushed aside to make room for a tattoo bed with Saint sitting in a rolling chair next to it, my eyes stop on who is laying on the bed. Callum, shirtless and face down, his arms crossed under his cheek as he faces Saint on the other side of him. My heart stops at the sight of him. I haven't seen him since the day he came to my apartment and I told him I didn't want anything to do with him. He looks good from what I can see of his muscled back and the back of his head, his hair is messy like he hasn’t styled it, only showered and run his fingers through it a few times. It takes everything in me to not run over to him and hang onto his back like a koala, swearing to never let go again. The girl next to Saint picks up a phone on the rolling cart next to him and the song playing loudly through the large speakers abruptly changes to “F*CK YOU, GOODBYE” by The Kid LAROI and Machine Gun Kelly. Mason and I walk over to Saint and Callum in the middle of the clubhouse, but I stop when a girl perches her barely covered ass on the bed next to Callum and starts slowly rubbing his lower back right above his jeans. I stand there stunned, not able to look away. I feel like I deserve to watch him with someone else since I broke his heart, even though I feel the nausea roll up my throat at the sight. To my immense pleasure, Callum reaches his hand behind his back and lifts the girl's hand off of him, and pushes it away from him. She gets the hint quickly, probably something he said because Saint throws his head back and laughs before the girl stands and rolls her eyes as she walks towards the bar. Mason pushes me forward, and I walk straight to the table, never taking my eyes off of the beautiful mural covering Callum’s back. The walk is too short and I never thought of what I was going to say to him. The entire ride over I was still thinking of the kidnapping attempt, but now that we're here and I see Callum in person, all logical thought has left.

When I get to the head of the bed, Saint looks up at me with an evil grin on his face. “Hey, Princess. Look who it is, Cale.” His smooth voice drips with acid and I know he takes my break up with Callum personally, I mean the song change when I walked into the clubhouse was pretty telling.

Callum’s voice is gruff, angrier than normal. “Shut the fuck up, Saint. Just start the tattoo.”

“Callum,” I squeak, then clear my throat. Callum’s entire body goes rigid before he slowly raises his head to look up at me. His eyes are bloodshot and his normal light dusting of facial hair has grown into a short beard. My heart breaks even further than I thought it could, I knew he would take the break up hard but seeing the evidence of it makes me hate myself.

His gaze goes from shocked to straight hate, his normal steel blue eyes are a dark gray like storm clouds, and I can feel the venom before his words even leave his mouth. “What the fuck do you want?” He spits the words as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, Saint pulling off the black latex gloves he had on.

I inhale sharply, he's never spoken to me like that. I let out a shaky breath, pushing forward. “To apologize and explain.”

Callum shakes his head and bites the inside of his lip. “Nah. Fuck your apology and your explanation.”

“Callum, please.” I plead quietly, not enjoying the small group that has a front row seat to this conversation.

He glares at me with his lips in a snarl. “I will never give you the power to hurt me again.” He shoots his dark gaze to Mason who stood at the foot of the bed, opposite me. “Take her the fuck home.”

“I don't think she should go home, brother. She was almost kidnapped tonight.” Mason says, not at all deterred from Callum’s angry gaze.

In a flash, Callum is standing in front of me, his slate eyes locking on mine, the hatred morphing into concern. It broke me all over again, his hatred of me, his sorrow, his concern, the kidnapping, all of it was too much and I started to cry, tears falling down my face as I stared up into his beautiful eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his big hands wrapping around the tops of my arms.

“He made me.” I gasp through the tears.

His brows furrow and he squints. “He made you what?”

“Break up with you.” The tears come faster and I almost choke on the next sentence. “He was the one behind the accident.”

“Fuck,” Callum breathes out as he turns his head.

He bends down and picks me up by the back of my thighs. I wrap my legs around his slim waist instinctually, my arms going around the back of his neck. He walks us through the clubhouse and kicks a door closed. It's only when he sets me down on the edge of a table do I take my eyes off of his and look around the room. The room is rather bare, with only a long table with the club insignia carved into the center with several leather chairs around it. A few club mementos hang on the walls. Callum takes a seat in the chair in front of my spread legs, still shirtless he leans back and opens his legs wide, his arms resting on the chair arms. He’s a work of art, all muscles and tattoos. I’ve never once stopped thinking about how absolutely perfect his body was, he’s like a wild animal, beautiful to look at but deadly to contain. His gaze lingers on the apex of my thighs before he slowly travels up my body to my eyes. “Tell me everything. Now”

42

REESE

I tell him everything:the flowers, my stalker causing the accident, the threat to his life, the video and texts from tonight, and the kidnapping attempt.

“Fucking Christ, Reese.” Callum drags his big hand down his face and over the scruff that shows he hasn't shaved in a week. “I wish you would have said something instead of taking everything into your own hands.”

I tuck my legs underneath me on the table. “I couldn't let anything happen to you. Or to Mason or Finn. I couldn't live with it if something happened to anyone.”

Callum sighs and slides further down in the chair, laying his head back to rest against the back of the chair. “I’m tired of waiting for him to fuck up and leave a trail. I want to go after this fuck and end this.”

I look down at my bare legs on the table, trying to avoid his eyes for my next question. “Do you still love me?” I whisper. At the top of my vision, I can see his legs stiffen. The pause feels like it extends for several minutes and the air thickens with tension.

“You heard that,” He finally says.

I look up and am immediately pulled into his intense gaze as he stares at me. “Yeah.” I manage to push out while looking into his eyes.

Callum stands and takes one step towards me, everything seeming to be in slow motion. He places his hands on either side of my body and leans over me, forcing me to lean back with my hands behind me. He’s inches from my face when he finally speaks. “Depends. Did you mean what you said at your apartment?”

My gaze drifts to his lips, closer than they've been in weeks. “No. Not a single word,” I truthfully say. I expect a smile or a kiss, instead, he straightens and takes a step back.

“I guess you can come see if I still mean it.” His voice is flat, not giving anything away as to how he feels. Then he turns, walks to the door, and walks out.

I quickly slide off of the table and follow him back into the main room of the clubhouse. He's striding back to the tattoo table in the middle of the room, and Saint sets his short tumbler down on the bar top at the sight of us. Callum lays on the bed on his stomach and Saint and I both get to his side at the same time.

“Ready?” Saint says as he pulls the rolling stool up to the head of the bed.

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