Chapter 15
W ith her head in a fog, Callie drove away from Gabriel’s. She’d always known that at some point, they’d have to talk about that night. Well, not always , but ever since she’d walked into the conference room at the Falcons’ clubhouse to find Gabriel sitting at the table.
But even with her stomach turning circles and her body both exhausted and buzzy, she couldn’t quite believe they’d actually done it.
Or that she’d told him everything she had.
In the thousand times she’d imagined the conversation, it had gone differently—she apologized, he didn’t accept it, they moved on.
She hadn’t planned to tell him about her parents, about their controlling and abusive ways.
She’d never told anyone the lengths they’d gone to drill perfection into their two daughters.
Not even Liza. Oh, she’d alluded to it, and she suspected Liza had guessed some, but she’d never spoken the words.
Ever. She and Daphne never even spoke about it.
But she’d told Gabriel.
And god, did it leave her vulnerable and confused and wishing she could shut her frickin’ brain off for ten minutes.
The only thing that sometimes managed to do that, though, was a run, and she’d already run that morning.
She didn’t want to wreck her body with another.
Besides, it was now dark, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the less-traveled roads iced over.
Turning down Main Street, she slowed to account for the traffic, both cars and pedestrians.
She’d heard the weekends were worse and wondered if, once it snowed and all the skiers arrived, she’d want to avoid it altogether.
She’d never lived in a seasonal vacation destination, so she tabled that thought and decided to wait and see.
Passing the Blacksmith, a popular restaurant and bar, she slowed even more.
When a car pulled away from the curb in front of her, she took that as a sign and whipped her little SUV into the vacant spot.
Grabbing a drink wasn’t her preferred way to calm herself down, but the chatter at the bar and the chance to people-watch might give her enough distraction to slow her racing mind.
Tugging on her hat and zipping her jacket, she slipped from the driver’s seat, darted a look both ways, then jogged across the street, locking her car along the way.
The clatter of dishes, laughter, and the clinking of glasses greeted her when she pushed through the door.
And into a crowd. A dozen people stood in the foyer waiting for tables.
Still, refusing to be daunted now that she was there, she craned her neck to view the bar. Was that one seat at the very end?
“Callie!”
She jerked back and spun to the voice. Scanning the crowd, she didn’t see anyone she knew.
“Here!” A hand came up, drawing her attention. To Lina, Juliana, Joey, and Charley sitting at a large booth.
She didn’t want to make small talk, not with four women who were like sisters to Gabriel. But she also didn’t want to be rude, so she wended her way around the tables to their booth.
“Have a seat,” Joey said, patting the spot beside her. She glanced around the table, and while she didn’t see any outright hostility, they didn’t look particularly welcoming, either.
Lina sighed. “Sit, Callie,” she said. Of the four women, she knew Lina the most. She and the former CIA agent had hit it off when Callie had helped find her father’s killer. But they weren’t close.
“You look like you crawled out of a foxhole and don’t know where you are,” Lina continued.
An unflattering if apt description. “There are no seats at the bar or any tables. Sit and have a drink. You don’t have to talk or listen or participate in our conversation—although you are welcome to do so.
But I think we can all agree that you’d appreciate a drink right now.
For whatever reason,” she added. Her tone must have caught the others’ attention, because suddenly they were all looking at her with a curiosity that felt both inevitable and uncomfortable.
But Lina was right. She wanted to sip a drink and let the world go on around her, if only for thirty minutes or so.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking the seat Joey indicated.
On the other side of the table, Charley raised her hand, and like magic, a waiter appeared. “What would you like to drink, Callie?” she asked.
“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Double, please,” she said. The man nodded and walked away. She watched him navigate the crowds and tables like a dancer as, true to their word, the four women carried on without her.
“Did anyone see Monk today?” Juliana asked.
“Noah stopped by his place,” Charley answered, referring to Mantis. “He’s doing okay, but wanted another day to just be.”
“Understandable,” Lina said.
“Unlike Philly, who plunged himself into work,” Joey said. Callie wished they hadn’t brought him up, but in some ways, respected that they did. They’d promised they’d act as if she weren’t there, and they were doing what they’d said.
“Are there any updates on the charges?” Juliana asked.
“Jackson said the police chief is a good guy. Traditional, but in the good way,” Lina said.
Charley snorted. “You mean ‘traditional’ in that he believes it’s okay for a husband to beat his wife?”
Lina shook her head. “Not a good ol’ boy is what I meant. He’s traditional in that he believes a husband should protect his wife, honor her. He’s not going to let the fucker slide because he’s a cop.”
“Was a cop,” Juliana corrected.
“Technically, still a cop until he’s terminated or found guilty,” Lina said. “But per the rules, he is on unpaid administrative leave.”
“But they have charged him?” Charley asked.
Callie turned her head enough to see the women without catching any of their attention.
Lina nodded. “With everything they can. Including first-degree murder.”
That caught Callie’s attention as she took her drink from the waiter.
“Apparently, the baseball bat he used wasn’t one they owned. He’d bought it that day,” Lina said.
“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick,” Juliana said. “I can’t imagine that poor woman. Or her baby girl. Or Monk and Philly who walked in on it.”
“Leo said the woman’s sister, who is taking custody of the little girl, is good people. I’m not saying that poor toddler won’t have a lot to process as she gets older, but she’ll have a solid support system,” Joey said.
“And I suspect Philly and Monk will check in on her,” Lina added; the other three nodded.
“I wish like hell it hadn’t happened, but it was bound to at some point,” Charley said.
“Noah and I even talked about it. With the number of people they help get out of those situations, they’ve been remarkably lucky.
Not that they’ve all gone to plan, but, well, this is the first time something like this has happened. ”
Callie’s mind half listened to the rest of the conversation as the women talked about how the club planned to meet and talk through how to better prepare themselves.
But the other half of her brain latched onto one thing: Gabriel had been involved in helping a woman escape an abusive husband, and he’d walked right into her murder.
No wonder he’d been sitting alone by the river the night before.
She couldn’t imagine walking in on something like that.
Especially not with the history she suspected he had.
He hadn’t come out and said his father abused him, but between what he had said, the rumors she remembered hearing as a kid, and the bruises she’d seen back then, her adult head put it all together.
Fuck, he was amazing. He’d grown up in hell and instead of running as far away from it as possible, he stepped right back in to help other people out. And from what it sounded like, it was something the club did on a regular basis.
She paused on that thought. Is that what had happened with Laura? Had Laura’s marriage to Rian been abusive? Had she asked the Falcons for help? If so, she could understand why Gabriel wouldn’t talk about her. And why he’d been so adamant that she tread carefully in her search for Laura.
She downed a sip bigger than she should and gulped down a cough.
“You okay?” Joey asked.
She coughed again, then nodded. “Yes, thanks, went down the wrong tube.” She considered asking the group about the club’s activities but stopped herself.
Yes, they’d been talking about it in front of her, but she didn’t want to put any of them in an awkward spot of having to clam up and tell her it wasn’t her business if they assumed she hadn’t been listening.
This new insight eased something inside her, though.
It didn’t give her any answers, but it gave her a better understanding of Gabriel.
And maybe, together, they could find some common ground on the issue of Laura Nolan.
But first, she had to find out the truth.
She was making assumptions—reasonable ones, but assumptions nonetheless—and she needed confirmation before proposing any compromise.
She also needed to figure out what kind of compromise she might offer.
Maybe even come up with a few to give Gabriel something to work with.
“Whoa, are you okay?” Lina said, drawing her attention back to the table. Callie blinked at her, unsure why she’d asked. Lina’s eyes dropped to her glass. Her empty glass. Wow, she’d downed a double old-fashioned in less than ten minutes.
“Food,” Charley said. “She needs food.”
“And some water,” Juliana added. Joey nodded.
“You want to talk about it?” Lina offered. “You don’t have to, but just offering.”
She looked at the open and curious expressions on the women’s faces.
What had happened that night felt like something she needed to keep between her and Gabriel for now.
But while she decided to keep her mouth shut about Gabriel, she realized that maybe, someday, if she stuck around, it could be different.
She didn’t have a lot of friends, as she’d told Gabriel.
And these women weren’t her friends now, but as they looked at her with genuine concern, she wondered if, maybe one day, they could be.