Chapter 19
Dallas
He was talking to someone he liked on the phone, which made me wonder how he would look if he were talking to me.
We had never spoken on the phone, though. At least when we were seeing each other. I never called him, and I never answered when he called. We texted. Short, to the point.
I shake my head and close my eyes, trying to relax as the breeze blows through the palms and oaks.
But I can’t get the picture of him out of my head. The blush on his cheeks. The smile on his excited lips. How his chest expanded with something like anticipation that he was too overwhelmed to let go.
His shoulder blades poking out of his clothes, leading down to a narrow waist, and the most perfect fucking ass, the outline far too visible through those track pants he was wearing.
Maybe he was talking to that arrogant prick from the Wolfe Room.
Maybe someone else, but it was definitely someone he was thinking about fucking.
I swallow, opening my eyes but seeing nothing.
He looked…aroused. Happy.
Like I wasn’t standing twelve feet away.
I heave a sigh. I should’ve started drinking when I got home hours ago.
Iron and I rest out by our pool, beers untouched while the happy couples play in the water. Macon holds his wife, their arms wrapped around each other as he carries her around the water. Liv and Clay laugh, kissing and nuzzling with drinks in hand.
Army should be back anytime. He sees a hot divorcée in St. Carmen after he gets done with work, but he only spends the night when her ex-husband has the kids. Curfew is about to start, so Trace will be at his pub till morning.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” Macon gripes.
Iron and I look over at our oldest brother, and I notice his scowl has a smile with it.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“I couldn’t keep either of you out of the bottles and pussy,” he goes on, “and now I can’t get you out of the house.”
Krisjen hugs him close, smiling over at us. “Oh, leave them alone.”
“They’re growing up,” Liv teases.
“You’re a hair, growing on my balls,” I retort.
My sister and Clay break into laughter, Macon shaking with amusement as he spins himself and his wife around in the water.
Iron tilts his head toward me. “Is he…smiling?” he asks me.
I mumble, “It’s creepy.”
I guess he deserves it. I guess if anyone does, it’s him. I would never admit this to Clay or Krisjen, but the house has been a much easier place to live in with them around. Almost enjoyable.
And the restorations to the house helped with that a lot. The place was always huge, but a lot of it wasn’t usable, and now we’re not tripping over one another all the time.
Even the exterior renovations seem to make me breathe easier.
Unlike the Ameses’ pool, ours desperately needed a facelift.
Army chose an aqua-blue tile, mostly because any dark reptilian creatures finding their way in would be easily visible, and the pool deck was re-covered and painted a canvas color, brightening everything up.
We’re like one of those fancy hotels now.
Steps lead into the water, and the trickling sound of a waterfall soothes all of us.
I’ll bet that greasy motherfucker who wants Callum’s ass has a whole luxury penthouse all to himself where he can screw the golden boy in his private rooftop pool without interruption.
I rake my hand through my hair. I don’t even know why I’m pissed. If Callum wasn’t a piece of shit, he’s still not my type. He probably has a fucking skin care routine.
I grab my beer and take a drink. God, I need to take a drive or something. Clear my head.
Fucking curfew.
“Uncle Macon!” some kid cries.
We all look up, Dex peering out of his bedroom window. “Paisleigh won’t keep the night-light on!”
“What the hell are you both still doing up?” Macon barks.
They don’t share a room, but they camp out in his makeshift tent sometimes.
Dex stands there, knowing better than to whine any further.
Macon gestures to one of us with his hand. “Would you give me a break, please?”
Not me. I don’t teach elementary school for a reason.
“I got it,” Iron says, rising from his lounge chair.
He walks off, back through the kitchen, and I set the beer down. I need something stronger if I’m going to wind down and sleep tonight.
Peering over my shoulder, I see the lights of the bar down the road. Liquor, music so loud I can’t think, and warm bodies. If I get laid, I’ll pass out nice and good.
It would certainly get my brain back on track. We’re taking the Ameses down. That’s all that matters. It’s either us or them, and it’s not going to be us.
His body isn’t that great.
I’m about ready to get up when my phone vibrates.
Grabbing my shirt off the bottom of my lounge chair, I find my cell.
I recognize the number, even though I don’t have it saved.
“AK?” I answer.
Two quick intakes of breath hit my ear, then a sniffle. “Dallas?”
I bolt up, her voice unnerving me more than the crying. Normally, it’s light and innocent like sunshine, like she’s speaking through a smile all the time.
Now it’s heavier.
“Where are you?” I demand.
She sucks in short, stuttered breaths. “In…your classroom.”
Jumping up, I grab my T-shirt without a word to Macon and head around the house. “I’m coming to you now,” I assure her.
I pull the phone away from my ear long enough to pull on my shirt and dig my keys out of my pocket.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I don’t want him to find me.”
“Callum?”
She’s scared of him?
She starts sobbing again. “He’s going to be so mad.”
Striding across the lawn, I round my car. “Keep the light off in my room,” I say, trying to sound calm. “Stay in the nook. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Stay on the line,” she gasps.
I think I heard that she sees a doctor, but I’m not going to try to get their number out of her. She called me for a reason, and it doesn’t escape me that I don’t hesitate. Not like I did with my mom.
I pull open my door just as Iron rushes out of the front of the house. “What are you doing?”
He gapes at me. It’s almost midnight.
But I don’t have time to explain. “Call Army,” I say to him in a low voice. “Tell him to meet me at Marymount.”
I might need a cop on my side.
“But it’s almost curfew,” he bites out.
I ignore him, climbing in the car. She’s alone, she’s terrified, and she called me. No woman has ever called me for help. What am I supposed to do?
Pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder, I start the car, but the passenger door opens. Iron is still shirtless.
“No.” I hold out my hand to stop my brother. “Stay here.”
They would love to get their hands on him.
He leans down, practically glaring at me. He’s worried.
I shake my head. I know, all right? I know.
I shift into reverse. “Call Army.”
He slams the door shut, and I put my phone in the cup holder, hitting the speakerphone.
“Dallas,” Anna-Katherine sobs.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask her.
I don’t know what I hope to hear. If Callum hurt her, I can kill him. There’s something peaceful about that. I have anger to get out, and it’s what he deserves, isn’t it?
But if he hurt her, that would be it between us. A feeling curdles in my stomach.
I can’t even believe I suspended my anger over what he tried to do to Liv long enough to sleep with him again.
She doesn’t reply, just cries. “I don’t like it here,” she rants. “I don’t want to stay here anymore.”
She doesn’t like it at school? She loves my classroom.
“I’m coming to get you,” I assure her, more fucking rain starting to cover my windshield. I flip on the wipers.
“I just want to see snow first,” she murmurs, tears straining her voice. “I can leave after I see snow.”
What? “I don’t understand.”
It’s starting to sound familiar, though. The double meaning.
Leaving…
How many times had something that Macon—or my mother—said make me pause and think they meant something other than what they said.
“Anna-Katherine, I’m driving now,” I tell her. “You want to sing your song to me? It was something about horses, right?”
I can’t think, déjà vu slamming me hard. She’s crying, I’m the only one here…
She swallows a few times. “Danc-ing bears,” she mutters, her voice shaking. “Pain-ted wings, thiiings I almoooost rememmmmber…”
She keeps going, and I race across the canal, entering St. Carmen. She goes on, singing, humming, then singing again, and I almost don’t pay attention to the road, the lyrics sinking in.
It’s about lost childhood. Remembering a time when she was safe.
Son of a bitch.
Coasting around the center of town, I climb up to Marymount, seeing the cop right before I pass him.
I flit my eyes to the time on my phone. 12:02 a.m.
Shit.
Holding my breath, I take in the dim cab and dark headlights.
And I fly by, glancing in my rearview mirror, waiting for it. For the lights to beam bright. The sirens to start.
As I drive, though, the distance between the cop and me keeps increasing, and nothing happens. The black police cruiser just sits.
There’s someone in there, though.
Come on, Army.
When she stops singing, I ask her, “Is Callum at the school with you?”
I don’t know what happened. If he came back to the Ministry offices or what?
She whimpers, “No, I ran from home.”
“I’m almost there.” I turn into the parking lot and brake right in front of one of the side doors. “Sing it again.”
I listen to her timid voice turn softer as each word comes out, her breathing calming more. I go to unlock the door, but it’s already open. She must have a key. Or she stole Callum’s.
Hopefully, he’s not here already. He might have assumed she’d run here.
I peer out the windows, toward the gate and out to the street, which is turning black with rain. No headlights. No movement. Just trees swaying with the weight of the fat drops falling from the sky.
Coming here might’ve given Anna-Katherine’s whereabouts away, but what was I supposed to do? Flipping the lock, I secure the door and jog up to my classroom.