5. Ash #2
“No.” Not until I get some answers. I don’t care if he’s some big bad biker, not when my family and my safety might be in jeopardy.
That doesn’t mean I’m not scared though.
Callum Holt is intimidating from a distance.
Up close? He’s fucking terrifying and yet still one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Careful, Ash.” His voice is deceptively soft, but I can hear the warning in those two words loud and clear.
It takes everything in me not to take a step back. Doesn’t matter that I’ve only got one working arm at the minute. I get the feeling it wouldn’t matter if I was at full strength, he’d still wipe the floor with me. “If my family are in danger, I need to know. I deserve to fucking know.”
His eyes darken a fraction, and I hold my breath, adrenaline flooding my system as I wait for what comes next.
And yet again he catches me completely off guard.
Instead of harsh words or the shove I’m expecting, Callum sighs and leans against the door frame. “You do,” he says, equally as soft, but lacking any of the threat from before.
We’re still standing far too close, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, and I can’t make my feet move. “Am I in danger?” I ask again. “Is my family? Is Morgan?” I have no idea what I’ll do if his answer is yes, but I have to know the truth.
His gaze drops to my mouth, then lower, before slowly tracking back up the length of my body. I’m not delusional enough to think he was checking me out, not for sex anyway. More than likely assessing if I’d be able to protect myself if it came down to it.
I straighten to my full height, which is still shorter than his, but only just. “I can handle myself in a fight.” I’m not a fan of violence, never have been, but sometimes I guess it’s unavoidable.
“I don’t doubt it.” He eyes the brace on my wrist. “But this could be a problem.”
He traces the edges of it with his fingers and I shiver, even though there’s no way I can feel it. Then his words register.
Shit.
I’ve got this thing on for the next few weeks. I’m no good to anyone. The false bravado I was trying to project leaves me in a whoosh. My head drops and I’m back to feeling like I did outside the hospital.
“Hey.” Callum’s warm hand slides along my jaw and gently tips my chin back up until I’m looking at him. “I don’t know if you’re in danger. It’s a possibility, probably a slight one, but I’m not going to lie to you and tell you everything’s fine.”
I open my mouth to reply, but he slides his thumb over my lips to shush me.
Heat pools in my belly, and I really shouldn’t like that as much as I apparently do.
His nostrils flare, that dark gaze boring into me again, and I’m as powerless to resist as I was the first time round.
“We’re going to keep an eye on you from now on.
” His thumb presses harder when I try to speak.
“That’s non-fucking-negotiable.” He waits, and when I don’t immediately react, adds, “Okay?”
The fuck no is on the tip of my tongue, the knee-jerk reaction to tell him to leave me and my family alone. I don’t know him, I certainly don’t trust him . . . and yet . . . even as I think the words, I’m not convinced I mean them.
Not deep down.
As intimidating as he is, there’s something about Callum Holt that draws me in rather than pushes me away. Instinct, maybe?
I know I shouldn’t trust him. My head is full of reasons why that’s not a good idea, but the rest of me? It’s as though a sixth sense has taken over, making me nod my head. Because somewhere deep, deep down I do trust him.
And isn’t that a mindfuck?
“Good,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb over my lips to cup my jaw again.
He goes so still as he watches me. I can’t help but freeze in response.
And for one wild moment I’m convinced he’s about to kiss me.
My whole traitorous body lights up in anticipation and I feel myself leaning in.
And then in the blink of an eye, he’s a foot away, no longer touching me.
I almost stumble back but catch myself in time.
To my horror, heat floods my cheeks, and I hurriedly step back, turning to go back into the living room to put some much needed space between us.
Jesus.
In what world would Callum Holt be kissing me?
And in what world would I want him to?
This one.
I ignore that annoying voice in the back of my mind. Lusting after bad-boy biker VPs is okay in my dreams, where it’s safe and soft and ends happily for all involved.
I’m not naive enough to think the real world would be anything like that.
“Give me your phone.” He’s behind me and when I turn to face him, he already has his hand out.
“For?”
He rolls his eyes like I’m an idiot. “So that if you feel threatened or see anything suspicious, you can call me and I’ll get someone to you.”
“Or I could just call Morgan.”
He hesitates for a second, then shrugs. “I’m trying to give you options to make you feel safer. If Morgan’s not available, then at least you have a backup.”
I suppose it makes sense, and I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant to swap numbers. Maybe it’s because it feels like a slippery slope. I don’t want to get involved with their motorcycle club in any way whatsoever, but it feels inevitable.
I still pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it over.
Callum adds his name and number, then calls his own phone to get mine. Instead of handing it back to me, he steps in close and slides it ever so slowly into the front pocket of my jeans.
Christ.
“Be safe, Ash.”
He’s gone before I can answer, and I stand there watching the door close, my heart still pounding at the way he said my name.
It’s almost five minutes later when I realise he never gave my keys back. I’ve got a spare set, but that’s not the fucking point. I don’t want him to have access to my home whenever he likes.
I yank my phone out and search for his number, shaking my head when I see what he’s added himself as: Cal. It’s something I imagine his friends call him, and we are not fucking friends.
Ash: You took my keys
I don’t have to wait long for a reply.
Cal: Took your car too
That fucker.
I hurry over to the window and see the now-empty space on the drive.
Ash: Nice of you to ask first. That’s stealing. I could report you to the police
Cal: You could
But I won’t.
And it’s not like I can drive my car at the minute anyway, and Callum did need a ride home. But he could’ve fucking asked.
Ash: Fine
Cal: Don’t worry. I’m a good driver
He’s talking about my car.
That he stole.
So why does my mind immediately drop to the gutter?
I close my eyes and lean against the wall.
Despite everything, I can’t help the tiny smile that forces its way out.
The next few weeks should be interesting if nothing else.