Chapter 15
THE MOTEL WAS QUIET now. After a long day of chaos and fear, the kids had finally drifted off into sleep, tucked safely into the too-thin sheets of the roadside room that smelled faintly of bleach and cigarette smoke.
The rust-orange glow of the parking lot lights bled in through the blinds, painting stripes across the bedspread.
Callen had left the bed and slept in the chair once more, even with his injury, always the valiant gentleman.
But still Meaghan couldn’t sleep. The hum of the air conditioning unit was too loud. Her mind wouldn’t settle. Her body still ached from the tension of the last twenty-four hours, and the band of worry wrapped around her ribs refused to loosen.
The lamp cast a soft glow across the room, gold shadows dancing over the cheap paintings and pale curtains. But all she could see was him, slumped in that uncomfortable sofa like a soldier who refused to fall, even in sleep.
The bandage at his side was still pink in places, and the way he’d grimaced when lowering himself into the seat hadn’t gone unnoticed.
His jaw was tight even now, as if his body couldn’t remember how to relax.
One hand lay over his abdomen protectively, the other dangling loosely by his side, fingers twitching with some distant dream.
He’d fought for them. Bled for them.
For her.
She thought back to the woods, to the split-second decision he’d made to throw Sophie into her arms and take the lead himself, even after he’d been shot. No hesitation. No question. Just action, grit, and that maddening, noble streak that made her heart twist.
She hadn’t asked him for any of this. Not the rescue. Not the protection. Not the aching awareness that grew every time their eyes locked across the room.
And yet… here he was.
Through it all, he’d been the one constant.
The one who didn’t flinch, didn’t run, didn’t crumble under the weight of what they’d been dragged into.
Even now, in this dingy motel with its peeling wallpaper and paper-thin walls, he refused to take the bed, just like he did at the cabin. Refused to stop being her shield.
She blinked against the sting behind her eyes.
She didn’t know when it had started, this shift inside her.
The trust. The pull. The slow erosion of every barrier she’d built over the years.
Maybe it was the moment she saw him walking toward him at the school.
Maybe it was the way he listened to her bitch about her father, or share the struggles of the three five-year-olds with them.
Or maybe it had been there all along, buried under a decade of silence and grief.
She reached for the motel blanket at her side and gently unfolded it, rising quietly from the bed. Her bare feet padded across the worn carpet as she moved closer to him, careful not to wake him.
Callen stirred just slightly, a faint wince flashing across his brow.
She draped the blanket over his chest and leaned down, letting her fingertips brush against his forearm in a whisper of contact. His skin was warm, rough, familiar in a way that made her breath catch.
“Thank you,” she murmured, barely audible. “For everything.”
He didn’t respond, only sighed softly in his sleep, the tension in his shoulders loosening the smallest bit. And even though her heart was raw with uncertainty, Meaghan knew one thing with absolute clarity.
She wasn’t alone anymore.
She slipped quietly from the room, careful not to wake anyone, and stepped out onto the walkway that overlooked the empty parking lot. A single plastic chair sat near the railing, weather-stained and warped. She sank into it, pulling her knees up, arms wrapped tightly around them.
The Florida night air was humid but welcome. It clung to her skin like the memories clinging to her chest.
As she sat there, staring into the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about her father.
How many birthdays had he missed because of “last-minute business”?
How many times had she waited at the window for him to show up, only for the hours to crawl by in silence?
The memory of her seventh birthday returned unbidden, streamers drooping in the Georgia humidity, her mother trying too hard to salvage the party, the untouched slice of cake with her name written in frosting still cold in the fridge the next morning.
He was always somewhere else. Always unreachable. But now, now he’d gone from absentee to dangerous.
She wasn’t just angry anymore. She was scared.
A shuffle of footsteps drew her from the memory. She turned as Callen appeared in the doorway behind her, his silhouette framed in the dim motel light. He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, his expression unreadable, one hand pressed lightly to his side.
“I was wondering where you went,” he said, voice low and rough with exhaustion. “Not exactly smart to be out in the open like this. We’re supposed to be hiding, remember?”
“Just needed some air,” she whispered.
He moved slowly, being careful of his wound at his side, joining her, lowering himself onto the concrete beside her rather than taking the other chair.
For a moment, they sat in silence. A car rumbled past on the nearby highway. Somewhere, a dog barked, and the sound of a garbage can being knocked over echoed through the night. But there, on the edge of nowhere, it was just the two of them.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Meaghan finally said, voice barely above a breath. “About what my father’s gotten me into. What he’s gotten them into.”
Callen didn’t speak, but she could feel his attention on her, the weight of it as tangible as his presence beside her.
“He was supposed to be… better. Maybe not a great dad, but at least a good man. Someone trying to do the right thing, even if he wasn’t always there.”
Callen exhaled, slow and quiet.
“He might’ve started out that way,” he said, “but something shifted.”
Meaghan nodded, her throat tightening. “I’m scared, Callen. Not just of what’s coming. I’m scared that I’ve been nothing but a pawn in whatever game he’s playing. That he used me.”
She paused, then added, voice brittle, “And I’m scared that I let him.”
Callen turned slightly toward her. “You didn’t let anyone do anything. You made a life for yourself. You did what you always do—you cared. You looked out for those kids. You tried to do the right thing. That’s not weakness. That’s who you are.”
She met his gaze then. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored her own, but something else lived there too, an unspoken restraint. He was holding something back.
Maybe he thought she was too fragile now to carry more. Maybe he didn’t trust himself not to say too much. But she didn’t want careful tonight. She wanted real.
“You don’t have to protect me from your feelings, Callen.”
His eyes flickered. “Maybe I do, because once I let them out, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold them back again.”
A moment passed between them, thick with unsaid things.
Before Meaghan could answer, headlights slashed across the parking lot, sweeping across the stillness with an abrupt glare.
The beam swept across the cracked pavement and flickered briefly across the front window before going dark.
A black SUV rolled to a stop a few spaces down, engine humming before it idled to silence.
Meaghan tensed, pushing herself out of her chair, panic for the kids filling her. Her pulse kicked up. Too fast. Too sudden. No one was supposed to know where they were except Blaze.
She wished she had brought something out with her, something she could use to defend herself, to protect the kids.
The driver’s door creaked open. “Anybody order the cavalry?” came a low, feminine voice laced with humor.
Meaghan stood, her chest tightening as she moved to stand in front of Callen.
However, his voice stopped her. “It’s all right,” he said, his tone winded but calm. “I know that SUV, and the smart ass behind the wheel. Her name’s Sage.”
She turned, blinking at him. “Who’s—?”
“She’s on my team,” he said, already trying to sit up, teeth gritted against the pain. “So is the other one. Abbie. They’re here to help.”
Meaghan didn’t move. Not until a tall woman stepped into the pale orange glow of the streetlight, dark red braid pulled over one shoulder, a leather jacket clinging to her frame like a second skin, road dust smudging the hem. She looked strong, sure of herself. And armed. Definitely armed.
Then the passenger door opened, and another redhead emerged, taller, slimmer, with an air of sharp control and sharp cheekbones. Her movements were precise, clinical, as she closed the door and scanned the lot like she already owned it.
Meaghan felt something instinctual press down in her chest as she stared at the new arrivals. These women weren’t just Callen’s colleagues. They were dangerous individuals themselves if they were on his team. Like Callen. Like the rest of his team.
Callen pushed himself upright with a hiss. “Meaghan, you’re all right. They’re friends. I trust them. The woman with Sage, Abbie, runs our office.” He tilted his head. “First time I’ve seen her out in the field, to be honest.”
The woman with the braid—Sage, apparently—tilted her head slightly, offering a half-smile as she flicked her gaze over her, assessing but not unkind. “You must be Meaghan. Heard you’ve been through hell.”
Meaghan nodded, still hovering halfway between fight and flight. “You could say that.”
Abbie joined them, her gaze sweeping over Callen. “Blaze said you’d be half-dead. Honestly, I’ve seen worse. You don’t even look like you're dying, and I’ve seen you after you drank too much tequila.”
“I’m trying to be polite.” Callen let out a faint grunt, as he shook his head. “And for the record, I’d prefer the tequila.”
“Too bad,” Abbie replied as she set down a worn med kit she’d been carrying. “You get antibiotics and judgment.”
Meaghan choked out a laugh before she could stop it, while Sage folded her arms. “Where are the kids?”
“Asleep inside,” Meaghan said, finally relaxing enough to lean back in her chair again. “They had burgers. Mostly ate the fries.”
Sage smiled faintly. “That sounds about right.”
“We’ll get them squared away,” Abbie said, already shifting into business mode. “You did well keeping them safe and keeping this lug from bleeding out.”
Meaghan looked over at Callen, who had said little more. He looked exhausted, the set of his jaw betraying the pain he was keeping clamped down. Even now, with help here, he hadn’t let himself drop the weight.
Not yet.
Meaghan turned her gaze back to the women who had arrived like shadows with better intentions.
Maybe, for once, the cavalry had actually come through.
They walked together back into the motel room, the warm light spilling out as Meaghan opened the door. The kids stirred but didn’t wake, curled together in the bed like cubs in a den.
Callen moved back to the sofa, and Abbie moved with efficiency, opening her field bag and lifting Callen’s shirt. “Jesus, Meaghan. You did good here.”
Meaghan flushed. “I watched a lot of medical dramas.”
Sage chuckled softly. “Girl, you just survived a tactical shootout and patched up our boy here. You can do anything now, I’d bet.”
Abbie stitched and re-wrapped the wound, applied a better seal, and checked his vitals with the quiet steadiness of someone who’d done this too many times before.
Outside, Sage walked over to the SUV and returned with three small blankets and a couple of plush animals. “Brought these from the office. Blaze raided the lost and found.”
Meaghan knelt beside the kids, whispering soft words and tucking the blankets around them. She stroked Lucas’s hair, kissed Sophie’s temple, and rubbed gentle circles on Willie’s back as he mumbled something in his sleep.
“Hey, sweethearts,” she murmured, crouching beside them. “Time to go with some nice people who are going to take you home. It’s going to be okay.”
Sophie blinked sleepily. “You’re not coming?”
Meaghan’s throat clenched. “Not right now, baby. But you’re going home. And I’ll see you again soon.”
Sage stepped inside and helped gently lift Lucas, murmuring something soft to him as he stirred.
Abbie gathered Willie, letting the boy rest his head against her shoulder like he’d done it a hundred times before.
Meaghan took Sophie’s hand, brushing her hair out of her eyes and whispering comfort as she walked her out into the night.
The SUV doors were already open. Blankets lay across the seats with bottles of water waiting in the cupholder in case the little ones got thirsty.
Sage helped Lucas into the back, tucking him in while Abbie made sure Willie was buckled in securely.
Meaghan knelt beside Sophie and zipped her coat up to her chin.
“You remember what I said?” Meaghan asked gently.
Sophie nodded solemnly, eyes wide. “Home.”
“That’s right. You’re going home.”
She turned to Sage, her throat threatening to close, knowing the kids were almost to safety. “You know where to take them?”
Sage nodded without hesitation. “We’ve got it covered. Callen sent us the addresses you gave him earlier, so we’ll make sure they get back to their families.”
Abbie chimed in, her tone softer than before. “We won’t drop them off unless we can ensure it’s safe. But I’m sure they’ll be fine and settled back in their houses before sunrise, just in time for Sunday morning cartoons.”
Meaghan blinked fast, trying to fight back the sting of tears. “You promise?”
“I promise,” Sage said, her emerald eyes steady. “We do this kind of thing for a living, Meaghan. They’re going to be okay.” She squeezed Meaghan’s shoulder as she stepped back. “We’ll call once they’re delivered. You did good.”
The doors shut with soft thuds just before the engine rumbled to life. Meaghan stood still as the SUV backed out slowly, taillights fading into the dark.
And just like that, they were gone.
Gone, but safe.
And that was all that mattered.