Page 66 of Callum
Her eyes widened, and red tinged her cheeks. “Hi, my name’s Vanessa. Are you checking in today?”
“Hi, Vanessa, I’m Callum.” He stopped at the desk, keeping his body language relaxed. “I’m actually here to see an old friend who’s in from out of town. We organized to meet in an hour, but I wanted to surprise him and come by early. He told me his room number, but I can’t recall it now and his phone is switched off. I was wondering if you could help me out and tell me which room he’s in?”
She swallowed, her mouth opening and closing before she responded. “I’m sorry, I’m not really supposed to give out guest information. I could call him and ask?”
“That would be great. Freddie Bant.”
The woman turned to the screen and began typing. When she lifted the phone, Callum bit back a curse. The asshole was still here. A part of him had been hoping he’d listened to Callum’s warning and left.
He watched closely as she typed in the numbers, assuming the last few digits would be the room number. He filed those numbers in his head, then listened as the phone rang. If Freddie picked up and found out Callum was here, he’d come out. If he didn’t, well…Callum knew what room he was in now, and he’d already looked over a blueprint of the hotel from the local county clerk’s online archives. He knew where each room was located.
Vanessa cringed when she hung up. “Sorry. He’s not answering.”
Callum straightened, tapping the desk. “That’s okay, I’ll wait it out. I appreciate your help.”
He left the reception area, but instead of walking back to his car, he found a section of fence that led to the courtyard. From his study of the lodge, he knew there was a large grassy common area, and the rooms were built around it. Now that he knew Freddie’s room number, he knew the guy was on a ground-floor suite. He may not be there right now, but that didn’t mean Callum couldn’t wait for him in his room.
He shot one quick glance around before running a few steps and jumping the fence. His feet hit the ground silently on the other side. Orange chairs and pots of flowers were scattered around the space. The second door should be Freddie’s room. It was a wooden-framed glass door with a curtain pulled shut over the glass.
He was about to knock when he heard sounds from inside. Deep moans followed by the compression of mattress springs. It sounded like two people making out.
He shifted to carefully glance inside the window beside the door, finding that glass wasn’t fully covered.
He frowned at the sight of Freddie leaning a woman back onto the bed. Her head was turned the other way so he couldn’t see her face.
Really? The guy came all this way to convince Fiona they were meant to be together and he was already fucking another woman?
Callum was moments from walking away—until the woman’s top rode up her waist. His gaze caught on the mark on her rib cage. A small oval birthmark. His muscles tensed. Then he noticed her sweater. It was one he’d seen before.
He stumbled back a step, his skin turning cold. It couldn’t be. His eyes had to be fucking deceiving him.
The woman’s fingers swept through Freddie’s hair while her legs wrapped around his waist, and she ground against him. Freddie kissed her neck, and she tipped her head back and to the side.
This time, his skin didn’t go cold—it iced over completely. Something so sickening churned in his gut that it was an effort to not double over.
Because even though the woman’s eyes were closed, he could see it was Fiona.
* * *
Fiona lookedat her phone for what had to be the tenth time that afternoon. She’d texted Callum earlier, and there was still no response. Only two hours had passed, and her text had only suggested what she thought they should have for dinner…it wasn’t like she was asking the man to give her a kidney. But still, he usually responded within minutes. Hell, most of the time he texted back immediately.
She nibbled her bottom lip, gaze shifting to the door. He’d be here in an hour to tail her home from work. She should stop being so needy. He was probably busy running his company.
Her phone vibrated and her heart sped up. But when she looked down at her phone, it wasn’t the message she’d been waiting for.
Unknown number: You’re a whore, and soon, he’ll grow sick of you. Then you’ll have no one.
Her mouth was opening and closing when a voice sounded from behind her.
“Fiona!”
She jumped, the phone slipping from her fingers and hitting the desk with a thud.
Shit. Rick.Again. The man had been on a rampage today. Everything she did was the wrong thing. He’d even criticized the way she interacted with patrons. Told her she took too long on her lunch break and that her dress was too short. Of course she’d defended herself, but that had just led to extensive arguments. It was exhausting.
“I just read one text,” she said quickly, pushing the phone into her pocket.
He huffed as he stopped beside her. “I’ve been trying to give you some leeway because of the incident here the other night.”
