Chapter 41
Some Answers
WES
My rage fades as I touch Callie’s face. I stare into her eyes, searching for answers.
“Did he hurt you?” I force out. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks wet with tears.
Fuck, I love this woman so much.
Behind us, Noah is loudly securing an unconscious Shane with strips of duct tape. Without looking, I’d guess he’s targeting the ankles, wrists, and mouth.
“Not really.” But she flinches when my thumbs skim her cheekbones.
“Callie. Your cheeks are red.” There’s a faint bruise forming in the middle of one cheek, and—oh fuck no—a handprint on the other side. Black spots start on the edge of my vision. “Callie.”
“Fine. He hit me.” Her eyelids flutter.
I completely black out for a second, the rage taking over, and when I come back to my body, I’m kicking Shane viciously in the ribs. Noah pulls me away from him half-heartedly.
“No, Wes. No killing him.” But he doesn’t sound super concerned, and he probably wouldn’t fight me too hard if I shrugged him off and kept kicking.
“Yet.” I grind my teeth together and settle. Shane’s awake now, and he’s whimpering like the pathetic scumbag bully he is. “You did not hit him hard enough with the bat.”
“I know, sorry. Maybe later.” Noah’s voice is soothing.
“Wesley,” Callie says from behind me.
With one last lethal glare at Shane, I turn back to Callie.
“I’m going to rip his throat out for hurting you.” This man is as good as dead. I’m going to kill him with my own two fucking hands.
Shane makes gasping sounds through his taped mouth. I hope he’s having trouble breathing.
“Guess he’s not dead,” Noah notes with disappointment in his voice. Then Shane quiets after a thud and the sound of duct tape ripping resumes.
“How did you know to look for me?” Callie asks, sounding stronger than before as she rubs her red skin.
“I needed to talk to you.” I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over her shoulders, holding it open so she can slip her arms in, then tugging it around her.
“After the pie competition—I got second place, by the way—Noah made me realize I shouldn’t have let you go.
And when I checked your location…” I stop speaking to see how she reacts to me continuing to track her.
She nods for me to continue. “I realized you weren’t where you should be. ”
“Second place, huh.” Callie attempts a small smile. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not important.” I shake my head and pull off my beanie, tucking it onto her head.
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes flutter as I lean forward and place a soft kiss on each side of her face. She sighs softly.
“Done,” Noah says from behind me. “He’s coming with us.”
“So you shouldn’t have let me go, huh?” Callie’s gaze flits from my eyes to my lips. I can’t fully read her expression, but it’s definitely sad.
“Yes. We need to talk, but not here.” All I want to do is tell her I love her and kiss her, but we have some pretty fucking urgent things to take care of first.
“Wes.” Callie’s voice catches. “I wanted you to come get me. But I thought—after all the horrible things I said to you—I thought you’d respect my wishes and leave me alone…” she trails off.
I offer her a hand and gently pull her to standing.
Her knees buckle, but I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her against me.
Her mouth trembles, and I run a finger along her lower lip while still supporting her with my other arm.
The words she said to me have run through my mind like a ticker tape ever since.
I could never be with someone like you. You need to leave me alone. This is over.
Maybe she didn’t really mean them. Fuck, it’s hard to control the surge of hope that almost knocks me over.
“I am not a noble person, Calliope. I realized I couldn’t let you go, even though you told me to. I know that’s fucked up. I know that’s not what most women want. But I need to do everything I can to convince you to stay with me before I let you go.”
Callie takes a sharp breath, and her gaze dances between my eyes.
“I hate to interrupt,” Noah says in the same calm tone as before.
“Do you, though?” I don’t look away from Callie.
“Yeah, well, we have a dude—unconscious, again, but still—duct-taped on the barn floor, so maybe you can help me get him into the truck and then move this conversation to my cabin?”
“I thought he was awake?”
“Well. My baseball bat took care of that.”
“Ouch.” Callie peers around me at Shane, who is indeed once again knocked out.
After we get Shane loaded into the bed of the truck and pull the cover down, I sit in the front with Callie nestled against me for the drive to Lake Savage.
My panic comes in waves as Noah weaves his way out of the long, overgrown lane and turns on the radio. No one would’ve found Callie, and I shudder to think of what Shane was planning.
What Joe Killer was planning.
He was going to fucking kill her.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Callie slides her hand on my thigh and looks up at me. “Are you shaking?”
“I’m okay,” I say, but it’s clearly a lie. All the adrenaline of the past hour is leaving my system, and I feel weak. She’s right, the hand not gripping her to me is shaking. I open and close my fist to try to get the blood flowing.
“Wesley, you got there in time.” She lifts her hand and slides it onto my cheek, pulling my face down so she can press a soft kiss on my mouth.
I take a ragged breath in, our lips still touching.
So much could’ve happened if we’d been a few minutes later.
If I hadn’t checked her location at all.
If Noah hadn’t kicked me in the ass to go tell her how I feel.
Even if Ruth Roy hadn’t won the pie competition and I was busy with the winner’s photo shoot or schmoozing with the judges.
“Thank you,” Callie whispers.
“There’s nothing to thank me for.” I press my forehead against hers.
“There’s more that you don’t know.” I have my hands around Callie’s waist, and we’re standing in Noah’s oversized garage as the door descends.
He’s run inside to prepare the room for Shane, who is currently kicking around in the bed of the truck, his muffled shouts music to my ears.
I’m tempted to use the baseball bat on him myself since I didn’t get to earlier, but Noah gave me strict orders to wait for him to come back out.
“Like what?” Callie’s forehead furrows
I reach down and tuck a stray chunk of dark hair behind her ear. How the hell am I going to tell her what Noah and I figured out? She knows her ex is a fucked-up human being, but I don’t think she has any clue just how much.
“Callie—” I start, but Noah appears at the door to the house.
“Let’s get this piece of shit out of Red Daisy.
She hates him.” Noah walks around to the back of his truck.
“Callie, can you hold the door open for us while we get him inside? We’re pretty isolated out here, but I don’t really want to give him a chance to cause too much of a ruckus.
We respect our neighbors in Lake Savage. ”
“Sure.” Callie’s mouth twitches, and I’m impressed my brother almost made her smile.
Noah and I walk around and pull back the truck bed cover.
Shane’s face is red with fury. Not only is he still duct-taped all over, but Noah secured him in the truck bed with tight ratchet straps so he wouldn’t roll around or bounce up and out of the truck.
Shane’s got a huge knot forming on the top of his head where Noah got him with the baseball bat—twice—and he winces as he struggles against the duct tape.
His ribs probably don’t feel great from when I kicked him repeatedly and the straps are holding him down.
He’s having a bad day.
Noah unhooks the straps, and we pull Shane to the edge of the truck bed by his feet.
I grab his feet, double checking the duct tape is holding strong, and Noah takes his arms. We pull him out of the trunk and accidentally drop him face down on the cold, hard garage floor.
Oops. Shane screams—muffled by the duct tape, of course—and kicks his connected feet.
I snort a laugh and look up at Noah, who is also smirking.
We are so fucked up.
I shoot a look at Callie, who has her arms crossed and is staring at Shane on the ground, throwing daggers with her eyes.
She’s absolutely stunning when she’s angry.
Then I take in the bruise on her cheek that’s darker than it was in the barn, and I give Shane another sharp kick in the abdomen. Her eyes flash to mine. I shrug.
“Ouch. I really wouldn’t want to get kicked by you,” Noah notes.
“I promise not to kick you.”
I flip Shane over—don’t want to be mean and drag him face down—and groan at the mess that is his bloody nose.
“For fuck’s sake,” Noah grumbles. “Let’s not get blood on my carpet inside, okay?”
“Noted,” I say. We grab his legs and drag him through the garage and up the single step into the cabin. He shrieks when his head bounces on the step. Oops again!
“Hey—” Callie follows us in with her bag from the truck and shuts the door behind her.
“Can you lock that?” Noah asks.
“So, what are we doing with him here?” She locks the door as we drop Shane’s feet and toss our jackets on the coat rack.
“We’ll explain it all soon.” I hold up a finger to have her wait, then jog to Noah’s kitchen and turn the oven on to preheat at 350 degrees. I practically squeal with excitement when I open Noah’s freezer and locate two pies: a mince pie and an apple pie. We need a snack, obviously.
The mince pie is wrapped in layers of red plastic, and even though I spelled out no on the top crust in flakey, delicious dough, I also added black X marks on the plastic wrap and tin since these live at Noah’s cabin.