Chapter 8
Callum
The knock on my door didn’t surprise me, even though part of me probably should have been.
I already had my shoes on, along with worn jeans, an old Henley with paint stains, and my ball cap that I flipped backward so I could look underneath the cabinet.
Frankly, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to leave the house.
Because I knew once I did, I would be near her.
It wasn’t as if she wasn’t a few hundred feet away from me, anyway.
Because I was the damn idiot that was moving Felicity Carter across the street from me.
She could walk across the street at any moment in those little pajamas I knew she wore and ask for a cup of sugar.
And I wouldn’t give it to her because it wasn’t as if I baked.
Damn it, I was an idiot, but it was the perfect place for her, and I could keep an eye on her. Yes, that was the reason. I could keep her safe and keep an eye on her. What other reason could there possibly be for me to want her to be close?
I was going to hell, and we all knew it.
However, the person at the door wasn’t who I was going to go help in a moment.
An aggrieved sigh slid through my lips as I opened the door and glared. “What do you want, old man?”
My dad held up his hands, the dark circles under his eyes as evident as always.
“I just want peace.”
I snorted. “You don’t even know what peace is.”
“Fine, I just want to talk. I’m sober. Haven’t had a drink in two days.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, studying his face. His eyes were clear, and he didn’t smell like booze. So maybe the man was telling the truth. He didn’t drink every day; it’s just on the days that he did, he went overboard and made everyone’s life a mess.
“You’re not coming inside, old man. What do that you want?”
“Are you sure you really want me outside when I know you’re about to have company across the street?” he asked, raising his brow in a way that was so similar to mine that it was once again a shock to the system.
Then his words penetrated, and I stiffened.
“What the fuck are you on about?”
Dad’s lips twitched. “You were never a good liar, boy. I know that little girl that you always lust after is moving across the street. Good on you for making sure that happens. You can get that little piece of ass whenever you want.”
My hand was around his neck, and his back was against my door without even the next breath passing.
“Watch your mouth. Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk to her at all. In fact, don’t even be near her.”
“And how are you going to stop that, boy? Look at you, always proving that genes run true.” I didn’t have my hand tightly around his neck, so he looked down, smiling at the sight of my grip.
“If I let you go, will you leave?”
“No. I need you to listen to me, and if you’re going to show how violent you are, how much like Daddy you are for the rest of the group while I’m here, you might as well.”
With a sigh, I shoved my dad inside the house and closed the door behind me.
“Talk.”
“You always were an impatient little bitch.”
The problem with my father was that he wanted to talk shit.
But he was no longer bigger than me. He couldn’t take me, and we both knew it.
Yet we also knew that I wouldn’t kill him.
Not because it would be a stain on my soul.
Or that it would be detrimental to my own life.
It was because my family didn’t need another murderer in their midst. So my dad couldn’t hurt me, but he could hurt the rest of my family.
And he was sneaky enough to not use his strength to do it.
“Just spill whatever you need to and get out,” I snapped before letting him go. I hated to see my hands on him. Another reflection of exactly who I’d become underneath his not-so-gentle care.
My father just smirked. “I need you to stop bullshitting about what you think I did to your stepmom.”
I stiffened, wondering why the hell he would even bring that up. He never talked about my moms. Ever. Because he’d fucking killed them. And yet here he was, bringing her up.
“Why would I do that?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Because you’re just reminding the town of what this family is.”
“What you’ve made this family,” I corrected.
“Whatever you want to say. I didn’t touch that woman.”
“We both know that’s a lie.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“And Mom?”
“She slipped and fell. We both know that.”
“After you pushed her.”
“The cops couldn’t prove that, and I’ve never said those words. So again, baseless accusations get you nowhere.”
“You must be sober if you’re using words like that.”
“I’m much smarter than you give me credit for.”
Of that, I had no doubt. He was conniving and cruel but brilliant in some ways. There had to be a reason that so many were drawn to him.
I hated this man with every ounce of my soul, but I needed him out of my house. Just having him breathing the same air as me felt as if it were tainting everything in its path.
“Fine,” I lied.
Dad snorted. “You always were a shitty liar. Just be better at it. I would hate for something to happen.” His gaze went across the street once again, and it took everything within me not to murder the man.
But I would not become him. No matter how much I ached to do so.
With a sigh, I stomped towards the door and opened it, gesturing for him to leave. “Go. You said your piece.”
“Yes, I suppose I did. Have fun. If you know what I mean.”
With that, he strolled down to his ancient sedan, got behind the wheel, and sped out of the neighborhood.
Hands on my hips, I was just grateful the man was sober. At least for now. I didn’t need him killing anybody on the fucking roads.
Before I could calm down, the moving truck made its way down the street, and I cursed. Well, it seemed the day was just going to be an endless day of what-the-fuck.
I quickly grabbed the box I had been packing, closed the door behind me, and made my way to Felicity’s new home. She’d signed on the dotted line, and the owners were damn happy to have her.
They’d watched her grow up from afar, even when I’d been out of town, finding my own way, and were glad she was back.
And now I was going to make sure that she was absolutely safe.
Felicity hopped out of her car since she had been following the truck, and grinned.
“Are you ready? I’m about to use your muscles.”
She wore tight jeans with holes at the knees and one at the thigh, double tank tops, and a light jacket, but the effect just made her tits stand out even more.
She pulled her hair back from her face, and it was all I could do not to tug on that ponytail, bend her over something, and see exactly how she tasted everywhere.
I was a bad man.
“Let’s do it since apparently that’s all I’m good for.”
She smirked but didn’t say a damn thing. Thankfully, Rune came forward and gestured towards the truck.
“Come on, come on, help me get this over with. She has way too much shit for someone who’s never lived in a house by herself.”
“Excuse me, most of it is books. You know that I love books.”
“Of course, it’s books. It can’t be something like pillows. Why can’t you like pillows?” Rune teased.
“Don’t worry, darling, we’re going to make sure you get tons of throw pillows as well.
I want my baby girl to have the best home,” Mrs. Carter said.
Then she looked at me and beamed. “Callum. My boy.” She hugged me tightly, and I kept the box out of reach, using one arm to hug her back.
She smelled of cinnamon and Mom, and I loved this woman.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Carter.”
“You know I keep asking you to call me by my first name.”
“And you know if I do, your husband will smack me upside the head.”
“Damn straight,” Mr. Carter said, grinning. He was just as sturdy and wide as he had been as an active firefighter, though I knew his joints didn’t move exactly the way that they once had. Whenever he met my gaze, though, a shadow always passed his eyes, and I knew what he remembered.
The time he’d been too slow. At least in his mind. The time he hadn’t saved them all.
It was the same look that Thatcher gave me and Bodhi or any of the Ashfords when they thought we weren’t looking.
I shook that off and gestured us towards the house. “Let’s go.”
“How do you already have a box?” Felicity asked, frowning.
Cheeks heating, I cleared my throat. “It’s for you. I thought I’d get here early enough to just set it out and misjudged the timing.”
Felicity bit her lip. That little worrying action was so damn cute that I wanted to lick the sting and tell her to stop hurting herself. And then maybe let me hurt her just a little, so it felt right.
I swallowed hard, willing my cock not to react. The last thing I needed was to show the rest of the Carters exactly what my dick was up to.
“What is it?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.
“It’s nothing really.” I opened the box and gestured for her to look, and her eyes widened.
“Callum,” she breathed.
“What did he get you? And why didn’t he tell me so that way I could sign my name on it?” Rune asked, his voice gruff behind me.
“Well, you were too late, and this is all Callum. Thank you.” She went to her toes and kissed my cheek, and I shrugged it off, trying not to act as if anything had reacted.
Especially when her father and brother were standing right next to me. Oh, they weren’t glaring at me now, but they would if they knew what went through my mind.
Felicity reached into the box and pulled out the potted plant. “And you really think I can keep this alive?”
“You kept a bunch of daisies alive that one time you tried to save them, remember? You can do it.”
“You remember that? You were a kid too.”
“Of course I do, Felicity,” I whispered before I cleared my throat. “There are also a couple of snacks in there, baked goods that I baked myself, so just know that if they’re inedible, deal with it.”
She froze and stared at me. “You made me cookies?”
“I burned you cookies.”