Chapter 60
CHAPTER SIXTY
Gasping for breath, the damp sheets cling to my slick skin as I jerk awake.
Until the last month, I've never been one to be plagued by nightmares. But I've also never had the man I love kidnapped and held hostage by a man obsessed with me.
So, I've been dealing with a lot of things for the first time.
As the room around me comes into focus, so does the soothing pressure on my back as Ryan runs his hand up and down. “Breathe, baby. I'm right here. I’m safe. You’re safe. It’s okay. Take deep breaths. I've got you.”
I gulp in oxygen to my lungs as I let his words settle into my bones. I know he's right, and he’s anchoring me in this moment with truth.
And I know that those nightmares are not reality.
But dammit, they feel so real … especially in that moment between asleep and awake, where I'm not sure if we were there before it was too late, or if I got to him in time.
I didn’t allow myself to feel all of the emotions while it was happening. I had to ensure the logical portion of my brain was in control and had all my strength and focus.
But after?
It hit me like a tidal wave.
I took a leave from work, not because I wasn’t able to work, but because I didn’t trust myself.
Graham had been in my orbit for years, and his true colors never registered.
Yesterday, I had told Walker that I was considering coming back now that it’s been almost four weeks, and he encouraged me to take at least six.
Running my hand over my face, I realize I should listen to my friend.
Ryan’s been working from home as much as possible, and with the drama the chairman of the board has been causing, I am not going to be shocked at all if one day he just quits altogether.
Jack and Wells have not been subtle at all in their attempts to woo him into joining them at Lux, and I bet he will be there within the next two months, max.
So, our normal schedules are … abnormal.
I don't really know what normalcy looks like these days. I know what routine feels like, what a typical day should look like, but normal is a foreign and obscure concept.
Especially when it’s two thirty in the morning and the same nightmare overtakes my subconscious. I don’t make it in time, and Ryan…
Well, it’s really bad, and I’m incredibly thankful that’s not how things actually happened.
Ryan is so patient with me. He was the one kidnapped and held hostage, but he seems to be doing better than me with all of it. I know mental health is not a comparison or a race, but I feel guilty.
And I'm struggling with this.
I’m thrilled that he seems to be doing so well. It's not perfect, but he's so strong and steady.
“I knew you would come for me.” He breaks through my thoughts as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer so I can snuggle into his hold, careful not to put any pressure on his healing ribs.
“I didn't know for sure if it would be you, or Liam, or maybe Walker.
But I knew you'd have a hand in it. And I knew if it was possible at all, it would be you. In the flesh. Leading the way.”
“How … how did you know? How were you so sure that I was going to be able to find you?”
“Easy. I was sure about you. I was sure that you will always do everything possible for the people you love.” I hum in agreement. “The number of people you consider yours is an important and elite group. But once someone is in your circle, you would go to the ends of the earth for them.”
I nod. “That's true. I would. I mean, I would do a lot of things for the general public, but for the people I love? I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do.”
“I know. And I trusted in that fact. I trusted in the smartest person I've ever met would find me.”
“Are you talking about me or your brother?” I grin up at him as he tickles my side.
“Ha. I know Liam's a lot of things, but to be fair, I can't always differentiate between genius spy guy and my brother the man. I don't really see him like the world does, I guess, I just see Liam.”
I trace mindless patterns on his chest as I ponder that. “That's interesting. I wonder if that's why you've never focused—or made me feel like you’ve focused—on my intelligence.”
He leans back to look down and meets my gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You never said that you admired my intelligence, or made any comment about it, really. You’ve never tried to use it to benefit you or say how helpful it was to have a doctor in your life.
You don’t make my brain feel like a novelty.
You have never quizzed me about things that the common person wouldn't know just to test my intelligence.”
He growls at that. “Why the fuck would I ever test your intelligence?”
“I don't know. A novelty? A game?”
“Harlow, there's absolutely nothing about you or us that is a game.
Not in how I see you, not in how I love you, not in the role that you play in my life.
Unless, of course, you're playing an actual board game with my family, and then I expect you to use every possible talent in your arsenal to kick everyone else's ass.”
I giggle at that. “Fair. But you make me feel seen. As a person. As a woman. It's like you’re aware of my brain, but you see my soul. My brain or job aren’t the draw.”
“Your brain is sexy and amazing and incredible and all of those things, sure. But it … it pales in comparison to the beauty of your heart and your soul. I love your brain. Just like I love the rest of you.”
“Yeah. I know. I love you too.”
“And I'm right here.” He squeezes me tightly for emphasis.
“I'm sorry. I interrupted your sleep again.”
“I don't care, Lo. I would care if you woke up from a nightmare, and for some reason, I didn't, and I found out after the fact that you sat here. I would hate to know that you worried, or processed, or whatever, and I didn't get the chance to be here with you.”
“Well, you'd be sleeping, so you're technically with me.”
“Yeah, technically. But I wouldn't be with you. On your team. By your side.”
“Oh, I like you, Mr. Callahan.”
“Yeah? That's good, Dr. Lane. By the way, when we get married, if you want to keep your maiden name, it’s up to you. I'm not one of those guys that really cares. Whatever you want to do.”
“Hmm. Good redirect to a different topic. You know? I think I'll probably keep it professionally, if anything, just to not have to go through all the licensing, credentials, and everything else. But socially. Socially, I think I’ll take it.”
“So, our Christmas card can say, Merry Christmas, love the Callahans?”
“That sounds like the perfect sentiment. I love it. Thank you.”
He pulls me in, wraps his arm around me, and kisses my forehead. “Now, why don't you take some of your own advice and try to turn that brilliant brain of yours off so you can rest, because I guarantee my brothers will be bringing a ridiculous amount of fireworks to set off in the morning at Dad’s.”
“You mean in the evening?”
“No, they don't wait until dark. The Fourth of July is an all-day-into-the-evening extravaganza. And I can't wait to have you there with me.”
“There's no place else I'd rather be.”
“I have a battle to prepare for, Lo. Are you good in here?” Ryan murmurs into my ear as he slides an arm around and pulls me back against him.
The giggle escapes me without a second thought.
“It’s a water fight, Ryan. I don’t think you need to say your final wishes.
” I turn in his arms to lean up and kiss him briefly before quietly adding, “I appreciate you checking in on me, though. But you do need to be careful with those ribs.” I give him my best serious doctor face, but I’m not kidding.
It’s only been a month since that asshole broke four of Ryan’s ribs.
Typically, it takes a minimum of a month for ribs to heal, but it can easily take up to twelve weeks for a full recovery.
Ryan is active and in good health overall, so I don’t think he will take that long—but a physical altercation, even jokingly with his brothers and nieces, could set his healing back.
He raises his right hand. “I promise, I will not partake in any hand-to-hand water combat today, only distance shooting … and flinging of water balloons.”
“They are like big kids themselves, Harlow. Just kick him out already or he won’t leave until he knows you’re good,” Savannah calls over her shoulder as she cuts up a watermelon. The annual Callahan Fourth of July festivities are a big deal, and this is my first year included.
That’s the best word for the Callahan family—included.
I was welcome into the fold as one of Walker’s friends and colleagues, and even more when I joined Savannah and Vivian’s book club and became close friends with them.
But when Ryan and I officially started dating, there was a depth of inclusion that I have never experienced in my entire life.
It’s not just nice, it’s sacred to me.
They show up for each other in a way that I only ever observed in other people’s families or read about in books. They are not perfect, but somehow, that dysfunction and constant evolution actually makes the bond feel even more secure to me—because it’s real.
My own experience of family is such a contrast that Ryan didn’t fully grasp it until he showed up at the fundraiser in D.C. and saw it firsthand.
But the safety of having this family has made it easier for me to be more honest with my own parents, and stay firm in my boundaries.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean you are engaged? Your father didn’t mention anything to me, and I know he would have if he secured a suitable match.” My mother’s aloof tone confirms that she’s not really listening to what I am saying.
“No, Father wouldn’t have said anything because he was not involved in the engagement. My boyfriend that I have been seeing since last fall proposed, and I delightfully accepted.”
“Oh! The young man that is related to Wellington Sinclair’s business partner. What was his name, Brian?” Mother’s tone is sharp now—she smells blood in the water, but I’m not even in the same ocean anymore.