Chapter 6 - Kelly
six
Kelly
The next evening, I'm standing in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting my Little Red Riding Hood costume for the tenth time.
After yesterday's confrontation with Derek, I'd considered skipping the Halloween festival entirely.
But Callum convinced me that hiding at home would be letting Derek win, and I refuse to give him that power over me.
The costume is definitely more revealing than anything I would have worn before – a short red dress with a corset-style bodice that pushes my breasts up in a way that's impossible to ignore, paired with thigh-high stockings, black boots, and a red hooded cape.
It's the kind of outfit that would have made Derek lecture me about being "inappropriate" and "asking for attention. "
Now, looking at myself in the mirror, I see a confident young woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to show it.
"Kelly?" Callum's voice comes from downstairs. "You ready?"
"Almost!" I call back, grabbing my small purse and taking one last look in the mirror. The woman looking back at me is bold and sexy and definitely not the broken girl who came home with a single suitcase.
I head downstairs, pausing at the top of the steps when I see Callum waiting in the foyer. He's dressed as a lumberjack, which is barely a costume since it's basically his normal work clothes – flannel shirt, dark jeans, work boots.
Callum looks up when he hears my footsteps, and his entire body goes still. His blue eyes travel slowly from my face down to my boots and back up again, taking in every detail of the costume.
"Holy hell," he breathes, so quietly I almost miss it.
"Do you like it?" I ask, suddenly shy.
"Like it?" Callum's voice is rough, strained. "Kelly, you look... Christ, you look incredible."
The appreciation in his voice makes me feel bold enough to do a little spin, letting the short skirt flare out around my thighs. When I face him again, Callum's expression has gone dark with want.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he says, moving toward me slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.
"Maybe a little," I admit, backing up until I hit the wall.
Callum braces his hands on either side of my head, caging me in.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Walking around looking like every fantasy I've ever had?"
"I’d love to find out," I whisper.
Callum's eyes flash, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me senseless right here in the foyer. Instead, he steps back with visible effort.
"Later," he says, and there's a promise in his voice that makes warmth spread between my legs. "After the festival, when I can properly show you how much I appreciate this costume."
The anticipation in his tone makes me shiver with want. "Is that a promise, Daddy?"
"That's a guarantee, sweetheart."
We stare at each other for a moment, the air thick with sexual tension, before Callum clears his throat and offers me his arm.
"Come on, Little Red. Let's go show you off."
The Halloween festival is in full swing when we arrive, the main street blocked off and transformed into a wonderland of orange and black decorations. There are booths selling caramel apples and hot cider, a hayride that circles the town, and a costume contest that's already drawing a crowd.
"Kelly!" Mrs. Peters appears at my elbow, resplendent in a witch costume complete with pointed hat. "You look absolutely stunning, dear. And Callum, what a... creative costume choice."
Callum grunts something that might be a thank you, his hand possessive on the small of my back. I can feel him watching the crowd, cataloging every person who looks in my direction.
"You should enter the costume contest," Mrs. Peters continues. "I think you'd have a real shot at winning."
"Oh, I don't know—"
"She's not entering any contest," Callum says firmly. "Too many people looking at her already."
The possessiveness in his voice makes me want to melt into a puddle right here on Main Street. Mrs. Peters raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment, probably picking up on the tension radiating from Callum.
We wander through the festival, stopping at different booths and watching the various activities. I'm having a wonderful time, but I can feel Callum's tension increasing as the night goes on. Every man who looks at me too long gets a death glare that could freeze hell over.
"You know I can handle a few appreciative looks, right?" I murmur as we watch a group of teenagers bob for apples.
"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Are you going to be this protective forever?"
Callum looks down at me, his expression serious. "Probably. Is that going to be a problem?"
The question is casual, but I can hear the underlying worry. He's asking if his protective instincts are too much, if I'll get tired of being watched over and guarded.
"No," I say softly, rising up on my toes to kiss his cheek. "It's not a problem. I like knowing you care enough to be protective."
Callum's arm tightens around my waist, and I can feel some of the tension leave his body.
"Attention everyone!" The mayor's voice booms over the crowd through a megaphone. "It's time for our annual haunted walk through Pioneer Cemetery! Tours start in ten minutes at the cemetery gates!"
"Want to go?" I ask Callum, though I can already see his answer in his expression.
"Absolutely not. Dark cemetery, people jumping out to scare you? That's a hard pass."
"Come on," I wheedle, tugging on his arm. "It'll be fun. Besides, what's the worst that could happen with you there to protect me?"
Callum looks like he wants to argue, but something in my expression must convince him. "Fine. But we're staying in the middle of the group, and if anything feels off, we're leaving immediately."
"Deal."
The Pioneer Cemetery is even spookier at night than I remembered from childhood.
Weathered headstones lean at drunken angles, and gnarled trees cast twisted shadows in the moonlight.
Our tour guide, a teenager in a vampire costume, leads us along the winding paths while telling stories about the town's founding families and their tragic ends.
"And here," the guide says, stopping beside a particularly elaborate headstone, "is where they buried Jeremiah Darkmore, the town's founder, after he was found frozen to death in the woods. They say on cold nights, you can still hear him calling for help..."
Right on cue, a low moan echoes through the cemetery, making several people in the group jump. I press closer to Callum's side, and his arm tightens around me protectively.
We're halfway through the tour when it happens.
A group of teenagers in wolf masks jumps out from behind a cluster of headstones, howling and snarling at the tour group.
It's clearly part of the planned scares, but in the darkness of the cemetery, with the moon casting eerie shadows and the wind rustling through the trees, it's genuinely frightening.
Most of the group laughs or screams in delight, but I freeze completely.
Something about the masks, the way the teenagers are moving, triggers every anxiety I've been carrying since the Derek situation.
My breath starts coming in short, sharp pants, and my vision tunnels until all I can see are those snarling wolf faces.
"Kelly?" Callum's voice sounds like it's coming from far away. "Kelly, sweetheart, look at me."
But I can't look at him. I can't move. I'm paralyzed by a panic response that doesn't make logical sense but feels completely real in the moment.
"Excuse us," I hear Callum say to the tour guide, and then strong arms are lifting me, carrying me away from the group and the scary masks and the overwhelming noise.
Callum sets me down on a bench at the edge of the cemetery, then kneels in front of me, his hands gentle on my face.
"Hey," he says softly. "You're okay. You're safe. It was just kids playing around."
"I know," I gasp, trying to catch my breath. "I know it was just a prank, but I couldn't... I couldn't breathe."
"It's okay. Panic attacks aren't rational. But you're safe now, sweetheart. I've got you."
Callum's calm, steady presence slowly brings me back to myself. My breathing evens out, and the tight feeling in my chest starts to ease.
"I'm sorry," I say, embarrassed by my overreaction. "That was silly. They were just teenagers being goofy."
"It wasn't silly," Callum says firmly. "You've been through a lot lately. Your mind is just trying to protect you from perceived threats."
"Even if the threat is a bunch of high schoolers in Halloween masks?"
"Even then." Callum reaches up to smooth my hair back from my face. "Ready to go home?"
I nod, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline crash is hitting me hard, making me feel shaky and weak.
Callum helps me to my feet, then wraps his arm around my waist for support. "Come on, Little Red. Let's get you home."
The walk back to his truck is quiet, Callum's solid presence beside me keeping the lingering anxiety at bay. It isn't until we're pulling into our driveway that I realize how the evening has affected me.
I don't just want to go home with Callum. I need to. I need to feel safe and protected and cherished. I need him to take control and make all the scary thoughts go away.
"Callum?" I say as he helps me out of the truck.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I need you tonight. Please." I look up at him, letting him see how much I want this, how much I trust him. "I'm ready. I've been ready for weeks."
For a moment, I think he's going to argue, to tell me we should wait until I'm not shaken up from the panic attack. But something in my expression must convince him that this is what I need.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"I'm sure."
Callum studies my face for a long moment, then nods. "Okay. But we're doing this my way, at my pace. Can you handle that?"
The command in his voice makes warmth spread between my legs. "Yes."
"Good girl. Let's go inside."