Chapter 27
27
M ACKENZIE
I cry and kiss him and cry again, my emotions pouring from behind a broken dam.
“Callan…. Oh, my God… Callan.”
My voice flutters and moves up and down, unable to settle within a normal range.
He kisses me again while my tears spill over his gloves and crazy thoughts spin in my head.
Did he just kill someone?
And do I want to know?
Should I know about that?
I probably shouldn’t.
But did he?
He did, didn’t he?
That was him.
And his men, most likely.
I can’t believe this.
How did I get myself in the middle of this?
Unable to get a grip, I frantically kiss his lips and gloves.
He peels one off and fans his fingers over my cheek, smiling, subdued, his eyes steady yet glinting with emotion.
“Calm down. Just calm down.”
How can I calm down when I can’t stop my tears from falling down my cheeks?
“I was at the park… And I saw someone who looked suspicious to me. These people were there for me. They were following me. They want me dead, Callan. Dead…”
My voice breaks, and my lips tremble, and his hand is not enough to take away my fears.
The calmness of his voice is not enough to make mine even.
I start sobbing, and he loops his arms around me and pulls me into his chest.
Only there, with my face pressed into his shoulder, do I process the horrific feelings haunting me.
“I didn’t know where you were or if anyone was watching me,” I say when my nightmare loosens its grip on me, and I breathe freely, no longer shaking, soft in his arms.
“They were watching you,” he confirms, but there must be more to the story. “I know you spent the day in Manhattan,” he adds, and I tear my cheek away from his shoulder and look up.
A soft smile curls his lips.
How can he be so calm about this whole thing?
“With the girls… Your friends,” he says in response to my questioning look, his smile still there, but only for a second. “I’m sorry about what happened,” he says, stern this time, expressing dark feelings. “I never thought they’d come after you the way they did.”
His hand rests on my shoulder while I stare at him, waiting for more.
“I told my men to let you enjoy your walk in the park. The area was clear when you walked in,” he says coldly. “I didn’t anticipate they would come after you. Not tonight. Not like that.”
A pang of anger flashes through his eyes before he brings his fingers to my cheek and slowly strokes it.
“I want you to do me a favor. Go home and never open the door to anyone other than me or the people you know. If anyone else bothers you, call the police.”
A few moments pass.
“Who are they ?”
A smile grows on his lips.
“ They are my enemies and the reason you can’t be in my life.”
Oh, that hurts.
It’s like a sharp blade slashes the tendons around my heart before making it bleed.
“Had they gotten you tonight, they would’ve used you against me.”
“They wanted me dead.”
He nods in agreement, although he’s ready to argue my point.
“They would’ve kept you alive.”
“I heard them talking about me.”
He nods again, tenser this time.
“They talked bullshit because they wanted to rile you up so they could catch you.”
“Are you sure? They seemed pretty set on the idea.”
“Positively sure.”
Frankly, I don’t know if he believes that or if he’s telling me all that to alleviate the trauma left by those men.
Not many people sleep sound at night knowing that someone wants them dead.
But maybe he’s right.
My eyes stay locked to his as I grapple with regret.
What he just said hurts.
Not the thing about those people wanting me dead, the other thing about me not having a place in his life. And for a good reason.
One not even I can argue against.
“I don’t want to go home,” I say, and his hand freezes on my cheek, a smile flashing through his eyes.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes. I don’t want to go home,” I reiterate stubbornly.
His touch softens against my cheek while he slowly shakes his head.
“What you want is not possible, Mackenzie…”
His downcast eyes are hardly contradicted by the sadness in his voice.
“It’s just not,” he goes on. “As you can see, you’ve caught me in the middle of something. You made it alive tonight, but that might not be the case the next time someone’s after you…” he says quietly, his eyes burning like embers in dark waters.
“So what’s your plan?” I reply, my voice unsettled with desperation. “Do you think that by staying away from me, you’ll keep me alive?”
He grips my chin, and smiling, he nods a couple of times.
“Yes… Yes, I do.”
“You were away from me, and this still happened.”
“Mackenzie.”
I shut my mouth in resentment before he speaks.
“They’re trying stuff out. Despite taking rigorous precautions, they must’ve known we spent some time together. That’s why they came after you. And then there was your neighbor. She might no longer pose a threat to you, but these people do. I don’t even know what the exact connection between these people is. I need to take care of these things before I bring someone like you into my life. I don’t want you to pay a price for stuff that has nothing to do with you.”
My knees are about to crumble.
I suck in a short breath, running out of arguments.
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” I murmur, looking into the distance.
“Yes, it is,” he says quietly, and I turn my eyes to him.
A faint smile colors his gaze.
“What if we spent this night together…” I suggest. “And then I’ll forever disappear.”
He laughs, and I make a weak attempt to smile, his arm snaking around my shoulders.
“No, you won’t,” he says.
“I will. I promise you.”
He presses his lips against the top of my head before turning pensive.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I say, and he tips his gaze down to me, pondering.
My heart pitter-patters.
He speaks again.
“I have to leave early in the morning, so I won’t be there when you wake up. You’ll have to get home on your own tomorrow morning and be a good girl and not get killed before I return.”
He looks at me down his nose, a playful grin gleaming through his lashes.
“Deal,” I say.
“Promise me you’ll stay alive,” he says.
“I promise,” I toss back at him, smiling from ear to ear.
MACKENZIE
At first, I’m convinced he’ll find a cab or have one of his men give us a ride to Long Island.
But, to my surprise, he locks my hand and walks me down the road.
“Do you need to pick up something from your place?” he asks, my building not far from us.
He glances up, and I know for sure he’s not looking at my windows.
“Like, um… New clothes or something?” I ask, distracted by his face.
He moves his eyes back to me, a smile dangling from his lips.
“Yeah… Something. You can change at my place,” he suggests. “I’ll make a few calls in the meantime.”
“Yes, sure. We can do that.”
His suggestion makes sense, and I understand his need for privacy when making those calls.
Who wouldn’t want that?
There must be stuff he needs to take care of, like disposing of those dead bodies.
Oh, my.
I can’t believe I'm so callous about it.
At the same time, I could’ve been one of those dead bodies. Or even worse, I could’ve been kidnapped. A missing person.
The truth is, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.
Gratefully, I stare at him.
“Are you waiting for me here?” I ask, hinting at the obvious.
He nods, amused by my fake perspicacity.
“If you don’t mind,” he says.
“No, I don’t. Of course I don’t.”
I loop my arms around his neck and push up to reach his lips.
Our mouths collide into a tender, reassuring kiss.
I’m more than flattered that he trusts me enough to let me go.
We break the kiss, and he checks the time on his phone.
“Go. Or we’ll celebrate New Year’s Eve on the streets.”
“Sure.”
I blow him a kiss, tear away from him, and run, not looking back. A bit nervous that something might happen and I might not find him here when I return.
Swatting the negative thoughts away, I sprint to the entrance of my building, taking minimal precautions in terms of people following me or neighbors watching me.
This feels surreal.
But with him waiting for me at the corner of my building, I feel safe. So safe that I rush up the stairs, not even blinking when a door opens on the upper floor.
No fucking way.
It can’t be that woman again.
I dash to my floor and run to my apartment.
No, it was not.
The footsteps slowly trailed down the stairs.It must’ve been Mrs. Eisenhower. She’s slow like that.
Frantic, I open the door and push in.
A night light is turned on, and for a second, I’m under the impression that a man sits on the couch in my living room. A scream of surprise rolls off my lips before I realize my mind has played tricks on me.
So many things have happened this evening that I shouldn’t be surprised.
Locking the door, I try to think of something festive to wear.
I haven’t gone out in a while, so my closet is not exactly busting with party dresses.
It hadn't crossed my mind I’d need something fancy to wear tonight. A bit concerned with my limited options, I walk straight to the bathroom.
I take a quick shower before brushing my hair, putting on some makeup, tossing my cosmetic case into a small bag, and wrapping my bathrobe around my body while heading to the closet.
My eyes move quickly over the hangers.
Most of my clothes are perfect for work. Skirt suits. Dresses with hemlines that stop above the knee with no frills or sexiness of any kind.
I go through them with the speed and angst of a thief.
Too gray. Too dark. Too boring.
Ugh.
Sweat trickles down my back as long moments of indecisiveness wreck me.
I can’t find one garment fashioned in a smooth, silky fabric with a sexy design. Or a stretchy club dress.
My hopes of wearing anything remotely attractive are forever dashed when my eyes slide to a slim fit pantsuit.
I pick it up and run a critical eye over it.
It’s a two-piece ensemble comprised of a sexy one-button jacket and pants that hug my hips.
It’s not meant to be worn without a blouse, although, honestly, wearing something so sexy at work could easily get me in trouble.
Luckily, I don’t have a job to worry about. Not yet.
I slide it off the hanger and swiftly make up my mind. I’ll put it on over a sexy bra and panties. And it will look great.
Wasting no time, I dig a new set of lingerie from a drawer, peel off my bathrobe, and put my underwear on before sliding my pantsuit on.
Man, it looks great. A deep blue-gray color, perfectly assorted with red lipstick that I will put on right now.
Moments later, I toss a coat over my shoulders, slide my feet into a pair of heels I’ve never worn and will surely kill my soles, and storm out without looking back.