Chapter 36 #2
“It’s never been like this before.” I glance at him at the next red light. “Not once in all the years I’ve known you have you taken your anger out on your music or your instruments.”
“Well, people change.” He turns back to the window, shutting the conversation down with three words.
I let it go for now, but the question doesn’t leave me. It sits in my heart for the rest of the drive, heavier with every mile, refusing to be reasoned away. No matter how many explanations I try to build for him, I can’t figure out what’s wrong.
At urgent care, a nurse calls him back within minutes, and he squeezes my hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t you want me to go in with you?”
“No. I need to hear what the outcome is on my own.” He disappears through the double doors.
I sit alone in the waiting room, phone in my lap, and the image of those guitars still burning behind my eyes. He would never annihilate those. I don’t care what he says. He would never ruin the tools that give him direct and genuine happiness.
Whatever happened in that house, Callum isn’t telling me the truth. And for the first time since we found our way back to each other, I’m not sure he will be honest with me.
My phone lights up in my lap. Bren’s name flashes across the screen, and I answer before the second ring finishes.
“Bren, thank God.” I press the phone to my ear, my pulse climbing. “I need you to tell me what’s going on with Callum.”
“Whoa, slow down.” His voice comes through cautiously. “What are you talking about?”
“He trashed his entire house.” My grip tightens. “Guitars torn apart, glass everywhere, and his hand cut open. He won’t tell me anything. We’re in urgent care, getting his hand stitched up.”
“His hand? How bad?”
“Bad, but I don’t think it will stop him from playing.”
Silence stretches on the other end, long enough that I check the screen to make sure the call didn’t drop.
“Bren.” My voice sharpens. “I know you’re still there.”
“Yeah, I’m here.” He exhales, and something in the sound makes my stomach twist. “Look, Livianna, that’s not really my business to talk about.”
“Not your business? This is my husband and your best friend. If something is wrong with him, I need to know.”
“It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“He has anger issues, Livianna. He always has.”
“I know, but this was different.”
“How?”
“Callum slipped and told me at first he didn’t know what happened. Then he said he was upset that a song wasn’t coming together.”
“Hmm, I see what you mean, but I’m not the one to talk to about this.”
My fear turns to determination. “You’re the only one I can talk to about this. What do you know about Callum?”
“Cash has always asked me to stay out of it.”
“Stay out of what?” I stand, pacing toward the far wall of the waiting room, away from the other patients. “Bren, please. I’m terrified. Just tell me what’s going on with him.”
“I can’t.” His words come out pained now, genuine regret bleeding through the caution. “It’s not mine to give you.”
My heart beats wildly. “Has this happened before?”
Another silence, heavier than the first.
“Bren.” I raise my voice. “Answer me.”
“I need you to trust him. Whatever he tells you, or doesn’t tell you right now, he’s trying to protect you. That’s all I can say.”
“Protect me from what?” Sharp and cold panic claws up my throat. “From him? From something else?”
“I have to go.” The words rush out fast, like Bren’s already regretting how much he’s said.
“Brendan Hemings, do not hang up on me.” I make a fist with my free hand. “Tell me what you know.”
“I love you, Liv. Take care of him.” His voice wavers on the last word.
“You won’t help me?”
“Can’t. Sorry, but I need to go clean up the house. If Cash sees what he’s done?—”
“He’s seen it. What the fuck don’t you understand? We’re at urgent care, getting him taken care of.”
“That’s why he needs you.” Bren sighs. “Cash… He needs to tell you. He’s the only one who can.”
The line goes dead before I can respond. I stare at the phone in my shaking hand, his last words looping through my mind on an endless, deafening replay.
Callum’s the only one who can tell me what’s wrong, yet I know with everything in me he never will. Not if he thinks he’s protecting me.
Whatever Callum is hiding, it’s bigger than a bad night and broken guitars. And I have no idea how long I can survive not knowing what it is.
There has to be someone who knows something. Fuck, anything would help at this point, which gives me an idea.
I go to my phone, find the number I want, and press call.
The line rings twice, then Jaxon answers. “Livianna, what can I do for you this evening?”
“Tell me the truth.”
“What truth?”
“What do you and Callum talk about?” I make my way outside, needing to burn off my growing dread. “You told me you two discuss topics that aren’t music-related. What are those topics?”
“You sound rattled. Where are you?”
“Urgent care.”
“What happened, Livianna? Is your security with you?”
“No, I told Callum to take him off me. I don’t need security unless I’m out in public.”
“Then why the hell are you at urgent care?”
“Callum freaked out and trashed his place.” Tears break free. “He’s not acting right, Jaxon. I need your help. Please.”