CHAPTER THIRTY
“Did you miss us?” Callie coos at the pup wiggling on her lap. “We missed you every single second.”
I grunt. “Don’t lie to the guy. You were preoccupied for most of the weekend. If not, I didn’t do it right.”
She shivers and sends me a sly glance. “You did me right, boyfriend.”
My chest expands while I idle at a stoplight. “That’s what I thought.”
“But our good boy needs reassurance that we still love him.” Her voice returns to the pitch reserved for babies. “We’ll never leave you for too long. No, we won’t. And when we take another vacation, maybe you can come with. If not, Sydney will gladly watch you. She did such a great job. Didn’t she?”
Walter yips and bathes her face in sloppy kisses. The spoiled dog looks extremely confident in his pampered state. I’m certain he’s aware that we’re his forever home. Especially since rules are already bending in his favor. He usually isn’t allowed in the front seat while I’m driving, but the distance from Jake’s garage to our house is just a short ride. Nothing too eventful happens on this stretch.
“Stop!” Callie’s screech is paired with her palm slapping against the passenger window.
I almost swerve into oncoming traffic. “The fuck?”
“Pull over. Right now. Hurry. Please.” Her punctuated statements are as close to a demand as she’s ever given.
I’m quick to follow orders, finding an empty spot along the curb. Walter detects the change in mood, leaping into the backseat without a command. Callie is out of the truck the second I’m parked.
My rushed stride quickly eats the lead she gained on me while chasing… a person? Confusion muddles my thoughts until Callie touches a lady’s shoulder. The stranger whirls, fright trembling her already shaken form. Recognition sparks in her troubled expression and she visibly relaxes.
“Mother,” Callie exhales.
A broken sob rips from the older woman when she realizes her daughter is there. Her bottom lip trembles, drawing my focus to a bloodied split in the middle. There are faded bruises on her cheek as well. Those are the only wounds I can see. The haunted look in her eyes is most likely from injuries that go far beneath the surface.
Callie’s mother collapses forward into her daughter’s open arms. They embrace as shared relief and sorrow shudder between them. The contact is obviously long overdue.
“How is this possible?” Callie’s voice cracks over the disbelief.
Her mom doesn’t answer. She quietly basks in the comfort her daughter’s hug provides.
Callie rubs a palm down her back. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
And that’s an undeniable truth. It’s obvious this woman is seeking refuge. I’m not a gambler, but I’d bet my fortune she wasn’t granted permission to leave the compound. Against the odds, she managed to escape. Much like her daughter.
Emotion quakes through their bond as they sway together. Callie’s eyes squeeze shut, spilling tears down her face too. The sight physically pains me but I remain on the sidelines.
I’m not alone in my place on the outside looking in. What’s meant to be a private moment is becoming a public display.
A crowd is gathering to witness their reunion. Rumors will soon follow. I highly doubt either will be comfortable with that.
“Sweetness, we should get her away from prying eyes.” I motion to the busy street and nosy pedestrians.
Her watery gaze finds mine as she straightens. “Yes, good idea. Come on, Mama.”
But her mother is stumbling backward, away from me. Her fretful motions and unblinking stare reflect years of torment I wouldn’t wish on many. Only the ones responsible for creating this fear deserve such punishment.
I hold out my palms in an attempt to appear harmless. The horrors she’s been dealt probably make my efforts futile. To prove that assumption, she shrinks into herself as if wishing to be invisible.
Callie is there, crouching to console her. “Mother, be calm. Ridge is safe. I promise.”
The assurance from her child, most likely the only soul she trusts, slices through the terror. The older woman rises to her defeated height and nods. She allows Callie to guide her to my truck where they climb into the backseat.
I paste on a signature scowl to alert the onlookers to fuck off. Most scatter like the pests they are. That doesn’t stop several others from whispering as they flee.
“Fucking vultures,” I spit.
My boots smash into the concrete as I stalk to the driver’s side and get behind the wheel. A glance in the rearview mirror reveals Callie clutching tight to her mother. Walter has his head on the older woman’s lap, providing his own form of moral support. The battered survivor is still crying, but she’s trying to muffle the upset. More than likely for my benefit. It serves to remind me of the insecurities Callie still drags around like a shackle she can’t escape.
“Mother,” Callie whispers. “What happened?”
Strained silence is the only response. I catch her mother’s gaze for less than a blink before hers lowers to the floor. It’s an ingrained response, one I’m familiar with. Callie relied on the same avoidance to protect herself.
Not long ago, my love was stuck in this petrified state. Similar defense mechanisms echo from her mother’s mannerisms. It’s no surprise she passed the knowledge to her daughter. But damn, Callie has shed many of those traits. She’s flourished in the months we’ve been dating. I can’t even picture how oppressed she was after first fleeing Billmoore.
The leather creaks under my unforgiving grip as I pull onto the road. If only a certain man’s neck was the victim of my chokehold. He’ll get what’s coming for him. Either from my hand or a punishing force greater than me.
Callie brushes over the discolored skin on her mother’s face. “Did Father do this?”
Her nod is subtle, but might as well be a scream.
Fury burns in my veins, and I barely manage to swallow a furious shout. “Fuck.”
The older woman flinches, which stabs guilt directly into my gut.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She appears stricken by my apology.
Callie laughs, but the tune lacks her usual humor. “See, Mama. Ridge is a good man. We’ll take you to our home. You can live with us.”
“What’s your name?” My question is aimed at Callie’s mother, regardless if she’s the one to respond.
“Althea,” my brave girl replies. “She’ll let you call her Thea once she trusts you.”
“And that’s a goal I’ll strive for,” I openly admit. “You’ll be safe with us, Althea. We’re family.”
Fresh tears pool in her eyes and she exhales what I imagine is years of repressed panic.
That’s a start I can appreciate. Eventually, her mother will deem me as a reliable source she can lean on. Then she’ll accept my presence without terror blanching her expression. Until then, I need to respect the healing process.
The truck rolls to a stop after I pull into Callie’s half of the driveway. I shut off the ignition and step out, opening the rear door for them. Althea skitters past me in a frightened blur. Callie’s exit is far more composed.
Confidence exudes from her movements while she purposefully presses into me. Her soft grin is a luxury I bask in, which immediately snuffs the anger roiling through my veins. Those lips demand to be kissed and I eagerly bend to do just that.
“I’ll be next door.” My head tilts in the direction of the house I haven’t slept in for weeks.
It hurts to separate myself from her, even for a single night, but this isn’t about me. They need time alone. I’m more than capable of providing that at the very least.
Callie holds my stare for several moments as if there’s something she’s holding in. After another brief pause, she must decide it’s better left unsaid. “I’ll text you once I get her settled.”
“Take your time, love.” I plant a peck on her forehead.
Callie snuggles against my chest. Her inhale is long and deep, as if she’s taking a piece with her. “Thank you, future husband. For everything.”