Chapter 35
35
C ALLAN
A shiver goes through her, and tears push to the edge of her lashes.
It breaks my heart that it all came to this.
But it’s the raw, unforgiving truth, and she knows I’m not fucking with her.
This is no longer a multiple choice quiz. There’s only one answer. Killing her would only be a remote option.
Her only choice is to understand that she has no way out.
“Callan…” she murmurs, her lips quivering.
“I’m sorry, baby. You can’t go anywhere. Someone will pick up some things from your place. You won’t work for me. That’s not an option. And you can’t work for anyone else. That’s not an option either. You’ll stay by my side as long as I require it.”
“How long is that?” she asks, a few tears rolling down her cheek.
I reach inside my pocket and pull out my hankie.
With it, resurfaces the necklace.
She is too upset to stare at it for long but notices it in passing.
Slowly, I wipe away her tears and offer my handkerchief to her.
“As long as it takes.”
I put the necklace back.
“What is that?” she murmurs, pointing at my jacket.
“It’s just another thing you don’t need to know about. I think you know enough.”
“Is that about a woman?” she insists, running my hankie below her eyes.
“Not in the way you think.”
She lifts her eyes to me. They look like cloudy summers.
“Have you seen someone else since you met me?”
A smile tickles my lips.
“What kind of question is that?”
“It’s a question. Answer it for me, please.”
I rub a strand of her hair between my fingers, studying the slow moves.
“No, I haven’t seen anyone since I met you,” I say, still looking down.
Her silence seems incredulous.
“I haven’t,” I say. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. Or would it?”
“It matters to me.”
I tilt my head to the side and give her a faint smile.
My fingers go to her neck and slowly stroke her fine skin and the pulsing blood underneath.
“It’s unfortunate,” I say, moving my fingers to her cheek.
Her eyes glimmer with tears again.
“You said you had no family, if I remember correctly.”
She nods.
“People who come asking for you?”
She shakes her head.
“What about your friend?”
“She’ll want to talk to me. And maybe see me from time to time.”
“Uh-huh. Tell her you got the job and you’re going on a business trip tomorrow morning. You’re getting trained for the job.”
“She knows what kind of job this is. She’s not stupid.”
“Tell her,” I say, quiet and resolute at the same time.
She pats her pocket.
“I don’t have my stuff with me. I left it in the other room.”
I pull out my phone and call Goodman.
“Yes, sir. How may I help you?
“Bring Miss Prince’s things to my office. Also, she will not work for us,” I say, my eyes on the woman in front of me. “She just got some disquieting news.”
“Is everything all right, sir?”
“Yes. Overall. She has to deal with a family crisis, so she won’t be available for work for a while. I’ll escort her out. Have someone else meet the new hires. I’m leaving soon. Thanks.”
I end my call and barely put my phone back when a soft knock at the door makes me signal Mackenzie to step behind it.
“You don’t want her to see you like that,” I say, running a hand down my tie and through my hair.
Makenzie steps to the side while I open the door and take her coat, purse, and briefcase from my employee.
“Thank you,” I say before closing and locking the door.
“Here,” I add, putting everything on the chair. “I’ll get someone to help you walk out. Put your coat on.”
“You said you were escorting me out.”
“I need to take care of some things before I step out. You’ll wait for me in my car. And try not to overanalyze me. It would be better for both of us.”
Next, I call one of my bodyguards, and soon after, I open the door again, this time to invite her out.
“Guard her with your life,” I say before she vanishes with him around the corner.
I finally let the door fall shut and push out a long exhale.
MACKENZIE
I wait in his car outside for over twenty minutes, my eyes trained on the street, my mind wandering, contemplating the dumpster fire my life has become.
It’s not like I have anywhere to go.
I have no job, and I’ve been technically kidnapped by the man who stumbled into my life.
All these past few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
And yet, I could never imagine something like this would happen.
Him taking over my life.
How was I supposed to know who he was?
He never said he had an office, a fancy desk, and a chair, and a bunch of secretaries. Frankly, he never mentioned his work.
I notice his silhouette inside the lobby, and my attention snaps back to my current situation.
One of the security guys greets him before the doorman holds the door for him.
I tear my gaze from him and look the other way.
I can’t stand looking at him right now.
The door opens and closes and the seat dips next to me before he instructs the driver to take us to his Long Island home.
My neck gets stiff from staring out the window.
How are his people even getting my stuff from my place?
I don’t need to know.
They’ve probably been there before. And then I remember the misplaced kitchen towel.
Yeah… They entered my place before.
So it’s not like he doesn’t know too much about me.
I wish I could take him captive and tell him that his life is over and he could only do what I’m telling him to do.
We don’t exchange a word the entire trip to Long Island.
He makes a few calls and talks cryptically to whoever is at the other end of the line.
I wouldn’t know what he’s talking about anyway.
Once the car pulls into the driveway, I expect to get out and then be directed to one of the big rooms in his house.
His housekeeper is waiting for us.
She must’ve gotten directions from him while he was talking on the phone.
The gate slides closed before we climb out.
His bodyguards enter the house with us.
Yes. So this is not exactly me being by myself, doing whatever I want.
He’s not taking any chances with me.
“Make that call, Mackenzie,” he says in a bossy voice I’m not accustomed to.
I let it slide as there is no point in having an argument in front of the staff and his bodyguards, and I pull my phone out.
“Here?” I ask, holding his eyes.
His stare shatters me to pieces.
“Here.”
Well-trained and versed, the housekeeper takes my coat while the bodyguards head to the kitchen to get coffee, maybe.
I make the call and inform Kayla about the news.
Poor girl, she can’t make sense of what I’m saying, but she does her best.
“I’ll tell you more when I get the chance.”
A few seconds pass.
“Is everything all right, Kenzie?”
His eyebrows go up as if he knows what she just said.
“Yes. Everything is fine. I’m fine.”
We end the call, and he holds his hand out for my phone.
“Am I grounded or something?” I say with irony in my voice.
His hand is still out, waiting for me to give him my phone.
I put it in his hand and sigh in frustration.
“You know where to go,” he says dryly, turning my phone off and taking out the sim card. He tucks everything in his pocket, so I have no chance of recuperating it and calling for help.
I spin around and walk up the stairs while his footsteps fade into the kitchen.
MACKENZIE
His bedroom awaits me like an old friend.
It’s the only place in his house that gives me a good feeling. The memories are still there, untouched, untarnished, unspoiled, living in the walls of this space, hinting at a time when I only knew half of what I know now about him. I was more generous by giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Walking in, the memory of an old scrap of dialogue comes to me. That second when he asked me… What if he was involved with some bad men?
There was no answer to his question. Because I didn’t know what to tell him. What was there to tell? I was afraid to face that hard truth, and for a good reason.
Look where it’s gotten me, that reality.
I walk around, studying the rugs, curtains, and furniture. The wooden burning fireplace warming the air.
It smells like earth, smoke, and winter.
I wonder if I’ll ever see the inside of another room from now on. Still, if he wants me to live here with him or without him, he needs to provide some accommodations.
With that thought, I spin around and make the trip back. My heels click and clack all the way to the foyer.
He exits the kitchen, his piercing stare directed at me.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, and he signals the bodyguard looming behind him to leave us alone.
The man walks out of the house.
“I need my things.”
“They just arrived,” he says, tilting his head to the man greeting another member of his crew in front of the house.
“Did you have your men inside my place?” I ask.
He shoots his eyes at me, unwilling to talk, before the door opens and his bodyguard enters the foyer, holding a cardboard box.
“Take them upstairs,” Callan says, and the man pulls away from us. “Anything else?” he asks, and I search his eyes.
A wall blocks everything I've known about this man.
I pull closer to him and study him more.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask.
The flicker of a dark smile glints between his lashes.
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
My hand slides to his chest.
“Tell me, Callan… Why are you angry with me when I should be angry with you?”
A muscle throbs in his jaw.
“I’m not mad at you. Go upstairs. Change. Feel at home. You can find food in the kitchen and ask my housekeeper for anything house-related. She’ll help you find whatever you need.”
With that, he heads to the exit while one of his bodyguards swiftly follows him. The two men slide into the car waiting in the driveway and, soon after, pull away, and I feel like my heart has just been ripped out of my chest.