Chapter 24
Wyatt watched Callie for a few more minutes before he rose and left her to sleep. When he walked into the main area of the base, Owen was waiting for him.
He walked past his brother without pausing. There was no need. Owen wanted to talk about Callie, and Wyatt didn’t. It should be the end of it. Except that was never the case with Owen.
“Walking away won’t stop my questions,” Owen said.
Wyatt made his way to a locker of tactical gear. He grabbed fresh clothes and turned on his heel toward the bathroom.
“Go take your shower,” Owen called. “I’ll be waiting. Wait. Wyatt, your bandage.”
The bandage could be replaced. He needed a shower. Wyatt closed the door and turned on the water. Steam began to fill the room as he hurriedly took off his clothes coated with blood and dirt. Once beneath the spray, he closed his eyes and let the weight he’d been carrying fall from his shoulders.
Callie was now getting the treatment she needed. He’d feel better if she was at a hospital, but he didn’t trust anyone there. Thank God his father had stocked the base with everything needed for bullet and knife wounds.
All he could do now was pray that Callie didn’t have internal bleeding.
He pulled off the bandage and scrubbed the grime of the past hours from his body. The pull of his injury reminded him that he’d be going into battle less than healthy. If he showed the Saints any hint of weakness, they would take advantage of it—just as he would if the roles were reversed.
Once he was finished washing up, he shut off the shower and dried off. He put on all the clothes except the shirt. When he opened the door, Owen was there, holding a fresh bandage in hand.
Wyatt sighed and turned his back to his brother so the bandage could be applied.
Owen left his hand over the bandage, applying just enough pressure to cause discomfort. “I saw the way you looked at Callie.”
He stepped away from Owen and put on his shirt, facing his brother. His gaze landed on Owen, his expression full of annoyance. “I thought you had a question, not a statement.”
“I could tell something happened between the two of you years ago. Am I wrong?”
Wyatt glanced away. “No.”
“What happened?”
“She got too close.”
Owen’s jaw went slack. “Are you saying you fell in love with her?”
“No,” he stated. No one could know how deeply he’d fallen for Callie. If they did, they would hound him relentlessly.
He wanted to stay with Callie, to hold her in his arms every day for the rest of his life, but it wasn’t part of his destiny. The course for him had been set the day his mother had been murdered.
There was no room in his life for softness—or for anyone that could destroy him if taken away violently as his mother had been.
“You came close,” Owen said. “Admit it.”
Wyatt walked around him to the steps up into the barn. “Let it go.”
“Why, after what I saw? There is something between you. I always said there was a thin line between love and hate.” Owen chuckled, following.
Wyatt met Maks’s gaze as he walked toward his friend. He hoped that Owen would stop with his inane talk with Maks there. Wyatt should’ve known better.
“There’s some serious chemistry between you two,” Owen said.
Maks then added, “He wouldn’t let me carry Callie despite his wound. Walked the entire way here, bleeding with her in his arms.”
Owen raised a brow as his gaze shifted to him. Wyatt shook his head at both men and tried to ignore them as he turned to look out the door. If he didn’t answer, maybe they would give up.
“That says a lot, brother,” Owen stated.
Maks nodded. “Mmmhmm. It sure does.”
“I think he cares more than he wants to admit.”
“Definitely. He nearly took my head off when I offered to carry her.”
Wyatt had heard enough. He faced them as he fought to keep his voice even so they wouldn’t know how much their words had riled him. “She was my responsibility. I’d gotten her this far, I wanted to bring her all the way in.”
“It’s more than that,” Maks said, all of the teasing gone from his voice.
Owen crossed his arms over his chest, serious, as well. “Why can’t you just admit it?”
“Let it go. For everyone’s sake, especially Callie’s, let it go.” Wyatt walked away from them to the paddock where some horses were being kept. He slowly climbed over the fence and walked to one of them.
Being forced back to the ranch reminded him of his love of horses. He held out his hand and waited for one of the animals to come to him.
A paint with a black and white coat was the first to approach him. The paints had always been his mother’s favorites, and he was happy to see that Orrin still kept some around. He rubbed the filly’s neck, scratching behind her ears while she stood patiently.
Horses had always soothed him. Whenever he’d been angry about something, Orrin would send him to the barn to muck out the stalls, feed the horses, or brush them. And by the time Wyatt was finished, whatever problem plagued him was gone. After that, he began to go to the horses on his own.
Except the problem he had now couldn’t be fixed. It had been with him for years. Fifteen lonely years, dreaming of a woman he could never have.
He remained with the horses, petting them, as his mind drifted through the various ways the Saints might attack. He opened the gate and let the horses out into the pasture instead of bringing them to their stalls.
Wyatt wasn’t surprised when Maks joined him. The CIA operative stood silently beside him for several minutes as they watched the horses snatch bites of grass as they walked away.
“I couldn’t imagine returning home,” Maks said.
Wyatt blew out a breath and closed the gate. “I never thought I would.”
“But here you are. Defending it.”
Wyatt turned slowly, taking in all the buildings while memories of his youth stole through his mind. “That I am.”
“Even if we win this battle, the war with the Saints will continue.”
“I know.” It was all Wyatt had been thinking about.
“That means time away from your Delta team.”
He turned his head to Maks. “What are you getting at?”
“That I can see why you got mixed up with Callie.”
He walked out of the paddock and across the yard to the large oak tree on a hill to better look out over the land. If he thought Maks was done with him, he was wrong.
Maks scratched his cheek and adjusted the rifle he carried. “I came from a shit hole that I never want to see again, but this place is beautiful.”
“There’s no denying its beauty, but what happened here keeps me away.”
“Your mother.”
Wyatt drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. His mother. Yes, it was her murder that had changed him from a boy to a man in one heartbeat. That was the day he learned life didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. That bad things happened for no reason.
That it didn’t matter how good of a person you were, destiny or fate or whoever the fuck it was, happily flipped you off, laughing as you fought to claw your way out of the grief that dragged you into the darkest parts of yourself.
Wyatt had been giving fate the finger ever since.
And now look where he was. At the last place he ever thought to be, fighting alongside brothers he didn’t think to meet again, looking for a father he never wanted to see, and making love to a woman who shouldn’t give him the time of day.
Fate was having the last laugh now.
“Do you think it was the Saints or someone else who sent you three back here?” Maks asked.
Wyatt leaned a shoulder against the tree. “I’ve long since decided it wasn’t the Saints. They would know it was better to keep the Loughmans apart.”
“True, but who else would find your father?” Maks pointed out. “They need Ragnarok.”
“So you think it was the Saints?”
Maks nodded slowly. “I suspect they’re regretting their decision now.”
“They won’t try to send us back to our teams.”
“They’ll kill you.”
Wyatt glanced back at the house where Owen and Natalie were. “They’ll have a hard time doing it.”
“It won’t change the outcome.”
He looked at Maks. “What’s your point?”
“Your brothers, while living dangerous lives, are nothing like us. They can have a relationship. You and I know that to bring anyone into our Hell is reckless and unwise.”
Wyatt swallowed and lowered his gaze to the ground.
“We go out on our missions not expecting to come back,” Maks continued. “We hunt the worst of the corrupted degenerates, the ones who take lives as easily as breath.”
“We’re not much different with the killing we do,” Wyatt said.
“No. We aren’t.”
Everything Maks said reinforced Wyatt’s decision to leave Callie all those years ago. But it didn’t make what he currently felt any easier.
Maks cracked his knuckles and shifted his weight onto one side. “If I were in your place, I think I’d take as much time as I could with her. For however long I got, I’d pretend and live in that reality. But I wouldn’t bring her into my world.”
“You get to pretend that all the time in your undercover work.”
Maks shrugged and shot him a quick smile. “I’ve become so many men that I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Partly.”
Wyatt lifted a brow as he watched Maks. “And the other part?”
“I hate bullies, and that’s exactly what the Saints are. Someone needs to put them in their place. I figured I’d help out.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
“Are you?”
That made Wyatt frown. “What does that mean?”
“If you had it your way, you’d be fighting the Saints alone.”
“So?”
“Your feelings are all twisted around inside you, Wyatt. About Callie, about your father, about returning home. Even about your brothers. You need to get it sorted.”
Wyatt asked, “Is that what you’ve done?”
“Fuck, no. I’m telling you not to make the same mistakes I have.
You’ve got a good, strong family. Hang onto them.
” Maks started to turn away, then stopped, looking back at Wyatt.
“You hide your feelings about Callie very well, but you let that mask you wear slip just enough when I found you earlier. If you haven’t already fallen in love with her, then cut all ties now. ”
Wyatt remained silent, refusing to admit to anything.
Maks’ lips compressed briefly. “If you have fallen for her, then you have my sympathies because you’ll have to make a decision soon. And I think it’s one you’ve made before.”
He waited until Maks was gone before he briefly closed his eyes. Maks made it all sound so easy. It was just the opposite. How could he hang onto a family he hadn’t been a part of for years?
They were working together now because they didn’t have a choice, but would they accept him after? Did he even want to be included again?
The one thing Maks was right about—he was all twisted inside. Especially when it came to Callie.