The Mercenary and the Mortician (The Silent Hollow #1)

72. Cal Walker

Alexa, play: Stay - Rihanna, Mikky Ekko

T he next few weeks passed without much happening, and still, Ryan wouldn’t do anything intimate with me.

The only time he touched me was when I woke up screaming from one of my night terrors. Whenever this happened, he would fold me into his chest and rock me gently back and forth, kissing me softly on the top of my head and promising me that everything was going to be okay.

Thankfully, I hadn’t tried to kill him again. He seemed to have found a way to rouse me that didn’t trigger a violent need to protect myself, but… I still hated that I woke him up nearly every night. Even before my most recent bought of torture, I had suffered from night terrors. That was why I slept primarily at Apex instead of the townhouse. The thought of worrying Naomi or waking her up because of my inability to keep my shit together made me feel like a failure.

Back then, my nightmares were usually of my mother strangling me. Now they were of Damian.

“Who could ever love you, devil boy!?” My mother’s words would come out of Damian’s mouth as he forced the burning hot brand into my chest.

“No one loves you. How could they?” Damian’s voice sizzled along with my flesh, and I screamed and screamed and screamed.

I kept trying to tell him that I could sleep in my car since the rest of the house was occupied. Every time I said that, he always looked like he wanted to punch me in the face for suggesting such a thing, which made me feel good.

However, despite how much he made me feel like my feelings were reciprocated in the dead of night, whenever I tried to initiate any physical form of intimacy, he adamantly refused and pulled away.

It hurt and made me feel like he didn’t actually want me after all. He used my health as an excuse, but that’s exactly what it felt like. An excuse.

I didn’t need him to love me. I’d accepted the fact that no one would ever really love me. It sucked, but it was something I’d come to terms with.

However, at the very least, I needed to be able to pretend that Ryan did, and it was impossible to do that when he wouldn’t let me do anything more than kiss him.

I was reduced to following him around the house as he did his uptight Ryan things. He filled his days doing the most boring shit. Like meticulously cleaning every single fucking nook and cranny or going through a metric shit ton of paperwork.

There was one day when I sat with him for hours after he decided he needed to reorganize seven years’ worth of tax files that he had kept in case of an audit.

I couldn’t understand why the fuck anyone would voluntarily do this shit on their time off. Sure, he was taking a forced vacation, but still. This was time we could have spent screwing each other’s brains out if he wasn’t so goddamn strict. Instead, he seemed to want to spend it going through dusty old files and boxes.

Both of us seemed to grow increasingly anxious as the days went on. Me, because I was bored, and I was jerking it in the shower like four times a day to keep myself from non-conning Ryan. And he… Well, I didn’t really know why he was so anxious.

I was nearing the six-week mark of my healing journey, for which I’d been counting down the days. Considering six weeks was the date Dr. Callahan said I would be free and clear to fuck again (my words, not his).

Wondering if I could convince Ryan to give it up a few days early, I went looking for him. After searching the house top to bottom with no sign of him, I needed to resort to checking the video feeds of the house to find his ginger ass. He still didn’t know about the cameras. I planned on telling him eventually. There just never seemed to be a good time. I knew he was going to be pissed, so I was shamelessly avoiding it.

After rewinding the tapes and watching for a few minutes, I found him disappearing into the attic.

I hadn’t needed to use the shitty crutch for over a week and was feeling fully back to my old self when I popped my head up into the dusty space.

I groaned when I realized he was on yet another one of his clean-freak binges, and he glanced up from what he was doing, a small frown on his face.

A beam of sunlight pooled in from the tiny attic window, and it caught in his soft, red hair, outlining his perfectly sculpted body from behind.

My mouth went dry at the sight of him. He looked like some sort of heavenly being, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak or move.

He was breathtaking, and he was mine. I refused to wait another second to have him.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” he asked, looking up from a picture frame he had clutched in his hands. He was sitting cross-legged in front of an open box labeled ‘Misc 2006’ and seemed to have gotten caught up looking at old photos.

“I came to find you,” I replied, my voice coming out gruffer than I intended. Dropping to my knees before him, I reached out and slid my hands into his hair, grabbing a fistful of soft auburn strands. I pulled him toward me and pressed my lips against his. He let out the most beautiful little groan, and I opened my mouth, greedily swallowing the sound.

“Baby, I need you,” I murmured against his lips. “Please. I can’t wait any longer. Let me in.” I kissed him over and over again, nipping at his plush bottom lip and sucking it into my mouth. He groaned again and slid his hand up my chest and into my hair, slipping his hot tongue into my mouth and kissing me back.

I didn’t want to force him. I wanted him to want me, and when he kissed me like this, it almost felt like someone loved me, and I needed that more desperately than I ever had before.

A rush of warmth flooded my body as my mouth filled with the taste of him, and I was suddenly fisting his T-shirt in the hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair, pushing him backward toward the floor.

All the blood in my body rushed from my head to my cock, and before I knew it, I was dizzy with desire. I was basically crawling on top of him when he pressed a firm hand into my chest. Before I could get him beneath me where he belonged, he broke our kiss.

“We should stop,” he breathed, gently pulling away, and I growled into his mouth, shaking my head.

“I don’t want to stop,” I hissed, forcing him down more firmly.

He didn’t understand. I needed him. I needed to be touched. It had been too long. The more time that passed without him touching me, the more my insecurities were rising up and taking over.

I was beginning to feel more like his roommate than his boyfriend, and I hated it. He’d asked me that day after we had been together in the field what we were, and I regretted now not putting a label on it.

“Cal. I said no. ” His tone changed to that firm voice he used that told me there was no arguing with him.

The urge to make him be with me rolled through my chest, but I forced myself to let him go. This wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t just about the sex; it was about feeling wanted, and right now, I felt anything but wanted.

Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me anymore.

After taking care of me while I had been injured, he had cleaned up my puke, helped me shower like some sort of child, and there had been times in the early days when he had spoon-fed me when I had been half asleep, knocked out on painkillers.

He probably looked at me like some sort of burden now.

For the first time in my life, I felt ugly and unattractive.

Pushing away these painful thoughts, I snarled and shot to my feet. “It’s been almost six weeks, Ryan, and you won’t let me touch you. You’re my boyfriend.”

His eyebrows raised, and his cheeks turned pink. “I-I am? I thought you didn’t care about putting a label on it.”

“Obviously, I fucking care, and yes, you are. You’re my boyfriend, Ryan. I need to be able to fuck my boyfriend.”

“Baby, you know what Dr. Callahan said.”

“ Fuck Dr. Callahan! I’m fine! And I need you. ”

“I don’t want to risk you overexerting yourself too soon.”

I snorted. “That sounds like a fucking excuse.”

He frowned. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means it sounds like an excuse. What is the real reason you won’t let me get close to you?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Did I really want to know the answer to that?

Because you’re the fucking devil. You’re an unlovable, evil piece of shit, and I never wanted you in the first place. You forced your way into my life, and now you expect me to actually want you?

Ryan’s mouth was moving, and I couldn’t hear him over the imagined words that were spinning through my mind.

The backs of my eyes pricked with tears, and I took a step back.

“You know what? Forget it. You clearly don’t want me. I’ll get out of your hair,” I snapped, turning away.

My eyes were filled with hot tears, and I could barely see where I was going as I stumbled away from him. I hadn’t cried since I was a little kid. Damian had made sure of that.

Mercenaries don’t cry.

Feeling weak and ashamed, I made sure Ryan couldn’t see as I rushed to leave the attic.

Before I could even make it to the ladder, strong fingers curled around my bicep, and Ryan spun me to face him.

“Let me fucking go!” I snarled, frustrated that a tear slid down my cheek, just as Ryan turned me to face him. His brandy eyes tracked the tear, and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

He looked… shocked.

“Cal, where is this coming from?” he asked gently, and I ripped my arm out of his grip.

“What do you mean where is this coming from? I’ve been trying to be with you for weeks, but you keep turning me down. I don’t want to fucking force you, Ryan. If you don’t want me, just say so. Stop wasting my fucking time.”

I tried to pull away again, but Ryan grabbed my shoulders and held me in place; a flicker of anger crossed his face.

“You think this is a waste of time?”

“It is if you don’t even want to be with me.”

“You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“Obviously! Why else won’t you touch me? And don’t say it’s because I’m injured. I haven’t even needed that stupid crutch for a week!”

Without warning, he shook me and began shouting.

“I ALMOST LOST YOU!”

I jerked as his fingers dug into my shoulders so hard I knew I would bruise.

His outburst shocked me enough that I stood frozen for a moment, gaping at him as he tried to get himself under control.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth before locking eyes with me again.

“I almost lost you, Cal. I thought you were going to die on my table.” He brushed his fingers over my chest, directly over where he knew my brand was. It was almost completely healed by now, but his gentle touch, even over my T-shirt, made me flinch.

Not because it hurt but because of what it symbolized.

“Did I ever tell you how my dad died?” he asked softly, and I frowned but shook my head. I realized suddenly, outside of what I had read about him online, I didn’t actually know the details of Ryan’s past.

We usually talked about me and all the bullshit I had suffered through. As the realization washed over me, I immediately felt like a selfish asshole.

It had been easy to take his quiet support and interest in my life for granted, especially when I was feeling raw and going through so much.

But looking at him now, he had real fear in his eyes, and I quickly understood that it had something to do with his own trauma he had suffered through.

“No. Tell me,” I whispered as he reached up and brushed the tear that had slid down my cheek away with his thumb. Taking my hand, he led me over to where he had been sitting by the box. He scooped up the picture frame he’d been looking at when I came in.

He passed it to me, and I held it up to the light and looked down into the frame.

A tiny version of Ryan with a missing front tooth and a giant bouquet of lilies beamed up at me. He’d been much more freckly as a child, and his ginger hair was much more orange. There was a handsome, dark-haired man beside him, with his arm draped over baby Ryan’s shoulder. They were surrounded by several vases full of flowers, primarily lilies, and both seemed so freaking happy I felt like my heart might burst.

“Is that him?” I asked, brushing my thumb over the handsome man’s face. Ryan came up beside me and slid his hand around my waist, smiling down at the picture with me.

“Yeah. He was the fucking best,” he muttered gruffly. Glancing up at me, he swallowed.

“You remind me of him a lot,” he said, and I frowned.

“Telling me I remind you of your dad isn’t helping convince me that you’re still attracted to me,” I grumbled.

Ryan frowned. “You think I’m not attracted to you?”

I shrugged, looking away. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel weak. Like I can’t be the man you need me to be. I don’t like that you’ve had to take care of me these last few weeks, and the fact that you don’t want to touch me at all isn’t helping.”

“Callum, you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever met,” Ryan whispered, tilting my face down so he could look me in the eyes.

“I’m attracted to everything about you. It’s been just as hard for me as it has been for you these last few weeks. Every time you kiss me, it takes everything in me not to just let you tear all my clothes off and have your way with me.”

I swallowed, searching his face for any indication that he was just saying these things to placate me, but I didn’t think you could fake the intense heat that was smoldering in his brandy eyes.

“I know I’m not very experienced in these things, but I think about it all the time, you know. What it would feel like for you to…”

My cock twitched in my pants, and I tugged him closer to me, skating my lips over his and inhaling his sweet scent.

“For me to what?” I rumbled, and he quivered against me.

His adorable ginger flush spread through his cheeks, and I dropped gentle kisses on each side of his face, enjoying how warm his blush felt against my lips.

“For you to fuck me.” He whispered, and I audibly groaned out loud.

“Fuck, Ryan.” I nipped his lower lip. “Keep saying things like that.”

He laughed nervously and pulled away again, making my heart sink in disappointment.

“My dad was diagnosed with a heart condition when I was twenty.”

I felt like someone dumped a cold bucket of water on me. How had we gone to talking about me fucking him to this?

He looked down at the picture of him and his dad surrounded by flowers, and he looked so broken-hearted that I felt like a complete asshole for trying to make this moment about me.

“His doctor told him he needed to avoid any strenuous labor, too. We all took it really seriously for the first few weeks, but… over time, we just kind of fell back into the normal swing of things.”

His eyes turned glassy, and he glanced up at me, swallowing so hard that I heard it.

“He died of a heart attack because I let him help me with a casket transportation one day for a service. Our pallbearer had a family emergency and couldn’t make it, so it was just me and my dad that day. I knew he shouldn’t have been helping, but it was just to lift the casket into the hearse, and he’s been feeling great . He kept telling me he was fine…”

A tear spilled down his cheek, and I felt like my heart was cracking in my chest.

“Baby…” I murmured, cupping his face and wiping a tear away. “That’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Ryan asked, meeting my gaze head-on, and I could see how much he blamed himself for his father’s death. How long had he been holding onto this guilt?

“I was there when the doctor gave the orders. I should have fought him harder on it. There was that seed of doubt in the back of my head, telling me to stop him or refuse his help, but I didn’t, and now… now he’s gone.”

“Ryan…” I didn’t know what to say. Everything that came to mind felt insensitive.

“I can’t let that happen to you, Cal. If something happens because you push yourself too soon, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Hey… stop it,” I growled softly, wrapping my hand around his nape. “What happened with your dad is not your fault. He was a grown man, and he was going to do what he wanted to do, whether you told him to or not.”

My ginger snap sniffed softly as I pressed my forehead against his.

“Listen to me. You said I remind you of him? If he was anything like me, then there was no stopping him from doing whatever the hell he wanted to do. He’s probably cursing you in his grave for blaming yourself for what happened. I know I would be.”

Ryan let out a choked laugh, and my heart soared at the fact that I had been able to make him smile.

Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him into my chest. Still clutching the picture, he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder.

“Besides. That’s not going to happen to me. There’s a difference between a bullet wound and a chronic heart condition, Ryan. Dr. Callahan said six weeks. A couple days off isn’t going to make a difference. I know my body. As good as I’m sure fucking you will be, it’s not going to put me into cardiac arrest.”

Ryan burst out laughing, pulling back to look at me with tear-stained cheeks.

“That was an incredibly insensitive thing to say, Callum,” he chided me, though his tone said differently.

I shrugged, grinning down at him. “Tact has never been my strong suit.”

“You can say that again,” he grumbled, and I laughed, pulling the picture out of his hand so I could look at it again.

“In a plot twist that shocked no one, you were a cute fucking kid.” I beamed down at the little toothless version of Ryan. “Were lilies your dad’s favorite flower too? Is that why there’s so many of them in this photo?”

Ryan brushed his thumb fondly over the frame and sighed.

“This was taken after a pretty rough day at school.”

“Oh yeah? What happened?” I asked, already knowing from how sad he sounded that this story was going to piss me off.

He glanced up at me, biting his lower lip anxiously as if he were nervous to tell me.

“What?” I prodded. “Don’t look at me like that. Now I need to know.”

“If I tell you this story, you have to promise not to try to hunt anyone down and kill them.”

My mood immediately darkened.

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then I’m not telling you.”

I growled. “You might as well fucking tell me, or I won’t rest until I dig up whoever it was that hurt you in this story on my own. Trust me. You won’t like it if I have to find them myself.”

“Callum!” he whined. “The whole point of you quitting Apex was so you don’t have to kill people anymore. Promise me you won’t hunt down and murder the kids that gave me a hard time at school. It was years ago. I’ve moved past it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine. I won’t hunt down and kill the kids that gave you a hard time. I promise.”

Just because I couldn’t kill them didn’t mean I couldn’t hurt them real bad. Right?

I adjusted my halo as Ryan nodded, accepting my promise at face value. He sat down on the dusty floor, leaning back against his hands.

“Sit down. It’s a bit of a long story.”

I flopped down on the floor with him, suddenly eager to learn more about the man I had fallen head over heels for.

“So, when I was eight years old, we had to bring in something for show and tell…”