Chapter 45 Cal
Cal
I don't have long now.
But I can't let go of her yet. I don't want to do anything. I told her I'd let her fall asleep naturally and then hook her up to everything after.
I told her I'd keep her the way I had her before, that I'd do everything just the way we already have.
I lied.
All I want to do is lie next to her, with her body cradled against me until our hearts stop beating all on their own. But the dose I gave her isn't enough to keep her down forever, so my time to say goodbye is limited.
I kiss her lips one last time, wait for my tears to dry, and wipe her face of the ones I left there.
Then I get up and get to work.
The first call goes to my father. He'll need to know what I'm doing so that he can prepare to spin things to cover for our family name in the media.
Though we don't draw a ton of attention on our own, finding out that the rich businessmen with their privilege and games are actually killers? That will draw attention, the kind that can't be buried with all the dirt in the world.
The only thing that will kill a story so dark is when it's drowned out by another tragedy, another life stolen, another monster being brought to justice.
“I'm sorry, Father.” I tell him when he answers the phone, his voice full of irritation.
“Sorry? Cal, not over the phone, okay?” He sighs. “It could be compromised.”
“It doesn't matter if it's compromised.” I shake my head. “I'm leaving a confession. Handwritten, signed. There will be no questioning whether it was me.”
“Callum!” He snaps. “Don't say another word!”
“I'm sorry I disgraced the family name. I'm sorry I killed my brother instead of myself.
I'm going to fix that now... all these years later.” I laugh coldly.
“Tell Charlotte I'm sorry, too. Sorry that I never gave her a chance.
.. that I couldn't learn to love when it mattered.
Maybe, if things had gone differently, I could have loved her.
I think if I'd met her sooner, I could have.”
“What are you talking about?” My father hisses. “You met her when she was born. You're not making sense, Callum. Just stop fucking talking before you say something to incriminate yourself.”
“I'm guilty.” I shrug. “Who cares if I incriminate myself? I know you don't want this to be your legacy... that you wanted an heir like my brother who you could shape into what you want. I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean to bring dishonor on you.”
“Fuck, Callum!” He grits. “Stop fucking talking, or I'll hang up on you now.”
“Before you do that, you should know I buried my first victim in the family crypt. I imagine the authorities will exhume her, so you'll want to be prepared for that.”
“Callu—”
“I love you, Father.”
I don't know why I do. He's a piece of shit who hates me. He loved my brother more than me. He loves my sister more than me. He loves his wealth, his empire, and his family name more than me. And yet, I love him.
I disconnect the call because I know he won't say it back. He never has... not even once.
I've barely let my screen clear out before I call Dex, praying that I get his voicemail for once. I don't know how he does it, but he always answers. Even when I don't want him to.
“Well, guess you're alive after all.” Dex laughs. “You haven't been answering my texts, and I've made it a point to not show up at random in case you're chained to your bed again without anything to cover your dick.”
“I need a favor.” I tell him because it's all I can manage.
Speaking to my father, I was calm... collected, composed. But with Dex, it's hard to act unbothered. It's hard not to feel.
“Really?” He laughs. “You don't talk to me for days, and then you call to ask me for a favor?”
“It's important.” I assure him, and something about the tone of my voice must convince him exactly of that, because he falls silent.
“Is it…? Did you…?”
I know what he's asking, but I won't even entertain the idea by giving him an answer.
“I need you to pick someone up and bring him here. I sent the address to you.”
“Wha-?” I hear his voice get further away as he looks at the message I just sent. “That's a thirty-minute drive from your place. Why can't you—”
“I love you, Dex.” I cut him off. “You've been so fucking good to me. Better than I deserve.”
“The fuck is going on, Cal?” He demands.
In the background, I hear Katrina's voice, her confusion as he grabs his keys.
“This is the last thing I'll ask you for. I promise.”
“Don't fucking hang up on me!” Dex snaps, as I hear his door shut and heavy footfalls on his steps.
Time is running out.
“Did you kill—”
“Her brother is who you're going to pick up. I found him last night, and he traveled for this. I just need you to bring him to my place.”
“I don't understand; what's going on?” Dex huffs.
I turn my attention to the blade on the counter, mixed in with all the other things I bought to try and stave off my disease.
.. the toys I got to try and carve my sickness out of me.
I never would have expected that what would keep him at bay was simply a girl with sharp eyes and sorrow in her soul.
She tamed my beast; he's been nowhere to be seen these last few days.
“You will.” I tell him. “Just bring him here, okay? And make him come down here first. You shouldn't have to deal with this…”
“Fucking hell, Cal. Just stop, okay? Take a breath and sit down. Don't do anything rash.”
“It's too late for that.” I laugh, turning my eyes toward my angel.
She's so fucking beautiful.
So fucking broken.
God, my chest fucking hurts, and it's hard to breathe. Pain tracks up my arm, zaps me with every inhale.
Am I having a heart attack?
“It's okay.” His voice becomes distant as I pull the phone away from my ear and lay back on the table beside her, placing the phone behind my head so that I can be sure he still hears my next instructions. “Whatever you did, Cal, we can fix it. I'm on my way.”
“Not to me.” I say, loudly enough that I know he has to hear me. “Don't come to me first. You go get Parker, and then you come here. Promise me, Dex? Please?”
“Fuck!” Dex growls, and I hear the horn blare as he punches his steering wheel. “Why?”
“Promise.” My tone brokers no room for argument. I won't explain, and he knows it. He can keep asking, but it won't do anything.
“I promise.” He agrees, finally. “Okay? I promise. I'm headed there now. But don't you fucking do anything, okay?”
“You're going to lose respect for me, brother.” I tell him, trying not to choke on the sob in my throat. “So just remember me the way I used to be, okay? Before all this…”
“Cal, I—”
I cut him off, unable to hear anything else he has to say. “Please hurry.”
“Cal—”
I hear the engine rev as he floors it, and I know he's hurrying.
I know he's doing exactly what I asked him to, because that's the kind of man Dex is. The kind of man I can never be.
“I did this for her.” I sob.
And I fucking hate myself for sobbing. I hate my weakness, my fear.
I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of leaving her with the fallout.
I'm afraid of disappointing the only two people in the world who have ever meant a goddamn thing to me.
But I'm more scared of hurting them over and over, of making them live with my mistakes, clean up my messes, and suffer at my hand.
“It's okay.” Dex promises. “We'll get you out of this. We've done it before, and we'll do it again. Relax.”
I nod, even though he can't see me.
Take a breath.
I pull her limp body into my arms, cradling her against me. She's still warm, still smells clean and sweet. Her skin is soft when I place one last kiss on her cheek, wrapping my arm around her with the blade in my hand.
“Dex?”
“Yeah, Cal?”
“Please hurry.”
“I'm coming as fast as I can. I need these cars to fucking MOVE! I just passed your place. I'll get her brother and be there in thirty minutes, forty minutes tops.”
Forty minutes tops.
She'll last longer than that. I dosed her enough that she won’t wake up before then.
“Thank you.” I breathe, relief flooding through me. “I really don't want her to see this.”
There's a beat of silence as I adjust my grip on the blade.
It's the same one we used to kill together.
The same one I fucked her with before I ever really knew her.
Back when she was my little doll, and I was a stupid fool completely oblivious to how fucking wrong I was.
I watched her pussy swallow the hilt over and over again.
Now I wrap my fingers tighter around it, my eyes on the wicked blade that I held tight, letting it bite into my fingers until my blood flowed over her like an offering.
That was my first offering.
This is my last.
“Cal!” I hear Dex's voice, a tangle of noises coming through the phone over my head. But I exhale, letting it all fade away as I focus on the point of the blade.
To stab yourself in the chest, you need some sort of leverage. Otherwise, you may let up the minute the blade pierces you.
My treacherous heart, useless thing it is, deserves to be pierced through with the blade. But it's not practical.
I've heard that slashing your wrists is easy to do. You just follow the vein. Start at your wrist, press down hard, and tear.
But too many people botch that. Too many people do the first one, and then survival instinct kicks in before they can do the other, before they can bleed out.
My beautiful little nightmare had it figured out when she apparently researched how to kill.
Go for the jugular.