Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
CALLIE
Mr. Davidson is a busy man. The next appointment isn’t for another week, but with no other options, I take it. In the meantime, as much as I want to curl into a ball and hide under the blankets, I force myself to keep moving. I can’t keep living with my parents.
I love them, but the next time I crash out, I don’t want Dad there to witness it. I’d like to fall apart in peace, thank you very much.
The sunlight streams through the dusty blinds of the second-floor apartment Lily is showing me, casting stripes across the luxury vinyl plank floors. I trail behind her as she flits from room to room.
“And this is the kitchen!” Lily spins around, arms outstretched like she’s presenting a game show prize. She’s ridiculously good at her job. It’s no wonder she’s risen up through the ranks at Big Ridge Property Management. “Updated appliances, granite countertops, and look at this backsplash.”
I run my fingers along the cool stone surface, trying to summon enthusiasm that feels as distant as my art dreams once did.
The apartment is nice enough. Better than nice, actually.
It’s exactly the kind of place I would have killed for back in my cramped studio days, but the only reason I’m here is because I’ve been forced to start over.
The anger that’s been simmering in my gut starts to bubble. I take a breath to tamp it down, refocusing on Lily.
“The rent includes utilities except electric,” she continues, opening cabinets to show off the storage space. “And there’s a washer and dryer hookup in that closet.”
My stomach churns as I think about the number she quoted me outside. It’s reasonable for what I’m looking at, but reasonable and affordable aren’t the same thing when you’re staring down the barrel of a potential lawsuit.
We make our way to the primary bedroom, and Lily opens the door with theatrical flair. “Ta-da! Look at this natural light. Perfect for an artist.”
The comment hits like a punch to the gut. The remnants of the tattered canvases are still covering the basement floor. I haven’t worked up the courage to clean up what I’ve destroyed.
Lily must catch something in my expression because she stops mid-sales pitch. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay, spill.”
“Spill what?” I try for innocent, but even I can hear how hollow it sounds.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Callie.” She plants herself between me and the door like she’s ready to hold me hostage until I talk.
“You’ve been weird ever since you got back to town, and right now, you look like you’re planning your own funeral instead of getting excited about having your own space again.
” She pauses. “I thought you wanted to move out.”
I sink onto the windowsill, the cool glass pressing against my back. “Remember why I told you I left the city?”
“Because you were tired of the hustle and wanted to come home?” She nods. “Why?”
I exhale. “That’s not the reason.” Fighting a scowl, I confess everything.
Tell her about Theo, how stupid I was thinking he loved me, how he stole my art and how I ran.
Again. She joins me at the window seat, concern wrinkling her pretty face, and the more people feel bad for me, the more the knife in my chest twists.
I was always the strong one. I never used to cry. I was tough.
But the wrong man can break you and turn you into someone you don’t even recognize. He can steal your light, snuff out your glow, and strangle all the good from your body until you’re nothing but a shell of who you used to be.
“I know, I’m pathetic, right?” I ask, the lump in my throat big enough it hurts to swallow.
Lily’s face darkens. “No, Callie. He’s pathetic. What kind of artist has to steal?”
“Not a good one,” I rasp.
“Should I castrate him?”
I laugh. “I love the violence, but that’s probably a bad idea considering he’s not done screwing me over.” The words taste bitter. “He’s suing me for IP infringement.”
“That piece of shit,” she mutters. “He’s dead.” Grabbing her phone, she fires off a few messages.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding a mercenary.”
My eyebrows rise. “You know mercenaries?”
“No, but I know some people.”
“Some people,” I parrot, face scrunching. “What types of people?”
“None of your business.” She locks her phone and pins me with a look. “He’s trying to intimidate you. That’s what bullies do when they get caught.” There’s a flicker of darkness in her gaze that wasn’t there before. Like maybe she really does know some hit men.
“You’re not serious about the whole killing him thing, are you?”
She ignores my question. “Tell me you’re not rolling over.”
“I’m not rolling over. I made an appointment with Mr. Davidson. Maybe he’ll have some magic lawyer trick to make this disappear.”
Lily pulls me into a hug. “If he doesn’t, I’ll help you pay for a better lawyer.”
“What happened to the hitman?”
She pulls back and waves her hand. “Whatever happens, you’re not dealing with this alone. I don’t care if I have to work extra shifts or sell plasma.”
“No.” My words are sharp. “I’m not dragging anyone else into this mess.” My parents offering to help pay for it is bad enough. I should be able to handle this on my own.
She opens her mouth to argue, but I’m already moving toward the door. “I don’t think this place is right for me anyway. Really. Everything is fine. I have it under control.”
It’s a lie, and we both know it. The apartment is perfect, and control is the last thing I have.
“We’ll keep looking,” Lily says gently, following me out of the apartment. “But I’m serious, Callie. Tell me when you need help.”
“I know.” I force a smile that feels like broken glass. The last thing I want to do is drag more people down with me. So while I love her for wanting to help me, I’m determined to handle this on my own. Theo is my demon to fight.
My steps slow as I emerge from the building, exhaustion weighing heavier on my shoulders than I care to admit. The conversation with Lily replays in my head like a broken record. Theo’s threats, the lawsuit, my spectacular inability to handle anything without everything falling apart.
But when I spot the familiar figure leaning against his truck, parked right next to my SUV, my heart does this stupid little skip that I’m not ready to analyze.
Jax straightens when he sees me, pushing off from the vehicle with that lazy confidence that’s always been his trademark. He tracks my movement, and there’s something in his expression that makes my pulse quicken.
“What are you doing here?” I call out, fishing my keys from my purse.
Behind me, Lily’s footsteps pause on the sidewalk. I glance back to see her wearing a knowing grin that makes heat creep up my neck.
“Have fun, Callie,” she sing-songs, waggling her fingers in a wave before disappearing around the corner toward her own car.
She doesn’t fool me. I know as soon as she shuts her door, she’ll be texting me, demanding all the dirty details. She’s probably already texting Aspen.
I turn back to Jax, who’s now standing directly in my path, arms crossed over his chest. The late afternoon sun catches the brown of his hair, making it look lighter, softer. It takes everything in me not to reach out and run my fingers through it.
“Why are you here?” I repeat, though my voice comes out more tired than demanding.
He searches my face with an intensity that makes me squirm. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
The question catches me off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re looking at apartments.” He takes a step closer, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “Getting your own place.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, that’s generally what people do when they want to move out of their parents’ house.”
He grabs the collar of my shirt. Not rough, but firm enough to draw me toward him until there’s barely an inch of space between us. “Is that so?” His voice drops to that low, gravelly tone that always meant trouble when we were younger.
My pulse hammers against my throat. There’s something almost predatory in the way he’s looking at me, like I’m prey that’s wandered too close to the wolf’s den. But Jax doesn’t scare me, he never has.
“Yes, sir.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and the effect is immediate. Darkness flashes across his face like storm clouds rolling in, his grip on my shirt tightening slightly.
“You’re not living alone.”
The statement is delivered with such absolute certainty that it takes my brain a moment to process the words.
“Says who?” I counter.
“It’s dangerous.”
I chuckle. “Since when is Big Ridge dangerous?”
But Jax doesn’t share my amusement. If anything, his expression grows more serious, and suddenly his arms are wrapping around me, pulling me flush against his chest. The solid warmth of him makes my knees go weak, and I have to fight the urge to melt into him completely.
“You think I’m joking?” His voice is rough, possessive in a way that makes something deep in my belly clench with want.
“You think I can stand the thought of you alone in some apartment with tourists and other men wandering around? Drinking, looking for trouble, looking for a pretty little thing like you to take advantage of?”
My mouth parts in surprise. Since when did he get this protective?
“If you want to move out of your parents’ house,” he continues, his arms tightening around me like he’s afraid I might disappear, “then you move in with us. With me and my brothers. Where we can keep you safe.”
The suggestion is so ridiculous, so completely insane, but so very Jax. “That’s crazy. I can’t—”
Jax’s mouth is suddenly on mine, swallowing the words, the rest of my protest. His lips are warm and demanding, moving against mine with a hunger that makes my entire body come alive.
My hands fist in his shirt, anchoring myself to him as he kisses me until my lungs burn for oxygen and my pulse races like I’ve run a marathon.