Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dom
“What do you mean, you don’t know where Callum is?
” I question Tobias, even though I already know where Callum ran to.
His Colorado home. It’s the only place that makes sense.
But I want confirmation. Unfortunately, my lead is good at keeping his mouth shut.
His face remains neutral on my phone’s screen.
“Don’t play games, Dom. You know damn well where Callum’s at.”
“I’m not playing games. I’m calling to confirm my hunch is right,” I say as I glance over at Pen, who’s frowning. “Tell me.”
“All Danny said is that Callum needs time alone to think and to clear his head,” Tobias says. “And I think it’s wise for you to not go after him, Dom.”
“Jesus Christ, Tobias,” I rumble out in frustration. “How in the hell are we supposed to keep him safe if we aren’t with him?”
“Are you sure that’s your main goal? To keep him safe? Or is your intention on something else?”
I clench my teeth tight at that insinuation. Although the man isn’t wrong. My—or our, need to see Callum is strictly personal. He crept out of our bed without a word, leaving Pen and me baffled, like we did something wrong. But I know we didn’t.
“Where are you?” There’s a note of warning in Tobias’s tone.
I completely ignore his question. “We’re his security, Tobias. If Danny did this—”
“I know,” he says, cutting me off. He breathes out a sigh. “I’d be doing the same thing. Just that… Tell me that you are going to give him the time he needs.”
“I already did. We just want him to say it out loud,” I proclaim, my eyes never leaving Pen. He gives me a subtle nod in agreement.
“We? Who’s we—and where are you?”
“Pen and I are at a bar,” I lie. Sort of.
We were at a bar—specifically, in one of the executive lounges at LAX, killing time before our flight.
But that was hours ago. Now we’re standing inside at Denver International, waiting for the bus to take us to the parking lot where we pick up our rental car.
“Rossetti,” he growls.
“Gotto go. Call you later.” I hang up before Tobias presses for more answers.
After we talk sense into Callum and explain to the bassist that Pen and my feelings are genuine, we three will unwind and recharge for a week before we leave his mountain home.
Pen frowns. “Tobias was no help.”
“No, but he does know where Callum is. And so do I.”
The moment the bus pulls up, we step outside and the chilly air hits my face.
“But what if…” Pen starts and pauses. He has a faraway look, a layer of doubt furrowing between his brows. “I don’t want to push Callum into something he doesn’t want, Dom.”
For as fierce and confident as Pen is while working a security detail, when it comes to personal relationships, he has a habit of thinking too much—then doubt filters in and his insecurities—most of which are caused by his family, get in the way.
I turn to Pen, his anxious eyes meeting mine. “I know he wants us. And the other night proved it.”
“I agree,” he says, although doubt laces his voice.
Does he? Because I'm as sure of that as I am of wanting Pen from the day I laid my eyes on the man.
When it became clear that Danny had a stalker, Ron contacted Harper Security, and Dean Harper assigned Tobias and John to Warrior Black.
As the threats escalated, Dean assembled the rest of our team—Fig, Jordan, Pen and me.
The day before we left for San Francisco to begin the job, I knew that Pen would be in my life. Pen says the same about me.
Neither of us had been in a relationship before, and it took a while for us to connect.
We were professionals, and working together made it more complicated.
But we agreed to be careful and discreet.
However, by the comments the band and the rest of our team make, our attempts at discretion have not been wildly successful—especially when we “allowed” ourselves to be talked into sharing a bedroom when Ron deemed the band to be safer if everyone moved into the mansion together.
We never planned to add a third—that kind of snuck up on us. Despite our strong feelings for each other, we both found we also want Callum. However, we don’t want to fuck it all up by pushing Callum into a throuple if he doesn’t want to be with us. But that’s the wild hair. Callum does.
I see it in his eyes when he looks at us. The desire. The need.
The way we three connected when we loved each other for the first time the other night, there’s now no doubt in my mind that we fit like three perfect puzzle pieces.
Then Pen used the word relationship, and Callum freaked out.
It didn’t help that his asshole father had called him earlier.
It spurred Callum to run from us. Every time that son of a bitch calls, Pen and I have to pull Callum out of his head and the blackness that swims in his thoughts.
We try to intercept those calls, but we can’t catch all of them.
Brian Fitz is a plague to his son, and I’d love to wipe him clean from this earth.
We can be his solace—his safe space. But there’s something there… His old man has a hold on him that prevents Callum from reaching out to us. I just need to figure out what it is.
“I’m not going to sit still and wait for the bass player to make a decision on if he wants us or not. We agreed to this, Pen.”
“What if Callum rejects us? All he has to say are those simple words, and then we have no choice but to comply with his wishes.”
“He won’t,” I reaffirm.
“I don’t know if I can keep working for Warrior Black knowing my heart…” His voice chokes up.
I get close, gripping the back of Pen’s neck. “Look at me,” I command, and he swings his eyes from the ground up to mine. “From the moment we realized that we both felt something for Callum, we wanted him with us. Am I right?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah.”
“Then don’t let doubt fill your head. Focus on how good we are when we three are together. Okay?” I squeeze his neck when the silence between us grows. “Pen.”
“You’re right.” He takes a breath, and then steps away from me. “You know it’s going to take us close to an hour to get there from here.”
I kiss him gently, both of us needing the connection, before pulling back and looking into his green eyes.
“I’m telling you, we’re not that far behind.
Callum left on the first flight out early this morning—I’m sure of it,” I say, releasing him, then reaching down and hefting the bag over my shoulder.
“There’s the shuttle to get to our rental car. ”
Without further encouragement, we climb in the crowded bus. The drive to the lot takes fifteen minutes and it’s a welcome reprieve when we get off the transport. The multiple body odors and the mix of perfumes—all strong—mingling in the air, causing an overload to my senses.
Once the fresh air clears my head, we track down the dark blue Bronco. We load our things into the back of the vehicle and leave the lot.
Getting on I-70 is a breeze, but we’re jammed up in traffic through downtown Denver. After we pass the city limits, the drive turns easier. Finally, about an hour and a half later, we pull into Callum’s driveway.
I was here once before and was blown away.
The place is amazing—five bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom, a game room, a professional kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows in the huge living room, and a deck, a hot tub, an in-ground pool, and a fire pit in the back. Now I’m watching for Pen’s reaction.
Through the thinning pine trees, the house doesn’t look imposing. But as we drive closer, the bigger the home stands against the mountain backdrop. From the way Pen’s eyes are nearly popping out of his head, he is as shocked as I was to see how beautiful Callum’s retreat home is.
“I didn’t know,” Pen mumbles.
“Neither did I, until I came here with him after the break in,” I admit.
Pen lowers the window half way and sucks in the clean mountain air. “I can get used to this.”
I’d have to agree, taking in the view. From this angle, I’m partly facing the Rocky Mountain range. I’m excited for Pen to see the back of the house and the deck.
“Before we unload the luggage, I want to surprise Callum first,” I say with a smile, putting the vehicle into park in front of the four-car detached garage.
We walk around a gigantic boulder on the corner of the side yard, then follow the walkway to the front door—which is wide open. My stomach drops when my eyes land on Callum’s still form, lying on the floor in the doorway. For a second I think—he’s dead.
“Fuck. Callum.” Pen’s shout yanks me out of that horrible thought. We move fast and drop onto the floor next to Callum. “Dom, his face.”
“Call 911.” I check for his pulse. “It’s strong,” I inform Pen without looking at him.
“Jesus. He looks like someone used his face as the punch dummy,” Pen grates out.
“Call the fucking cops, Pen.” I glare up at him.
“I am,” he fires back, nostrils flared and mouth in a snarl.
I drop my eyes back to Callum, who remains motionless.
I lean in and examine his face more thoroughly.
His nose doesn’t look broken, but there’s a ton of blood.
His left eye is swollen shut; there’s a gash on his lips and scrape marks on his cheeks.
Whoever did this to Callum is in a world of hurt, once I get my hands on the son of a bitch.
Callum groans, his right eye slowly opens, and I see the white of his eye is all bloodshot.
“Dom?” he whispers, like I’m an illusion. He reaches a hand to my face but it falls before he can touch me and he whimpers.
“I’m here, baby,” I choke out, trying to swallow down the knot at the base of my throat.
“Is that really you?”
“Don’t move, sweetheart, the cops are on the way.” I place a hand on his cheek. “Who attacked you?”
He closes his eye, slowly shakes his head and let out a groan of pain. “I didn’t see his face. But it was a guy who…”
“A guy? Are you sure it was a man?” I growl low, rage filtering through my words even though I’m trying to keep him calm.