Chapter 16
P hilly sank into a chair, leaned back, and kicked his feet toward the fire. Back in the clubhouse, after a long day that had started at five in the morning, he admitted to himself that he was beat. The conversation with Callie the night before hadn’t helped his sleep, either.
“How are you?” Hawkeye asked as he, Lovell, and Monk joined him. The only one of them still serving—as a reserve—his brother had returned from a long deployment only a few weeks earlier.
Philly cocked his head and half shrugged but didn’t say anything.
In truth, he was still reeling from his conversation with Callie.
No one said anything more, and while his brothers would sit for hours with him, the time had come to break his silence and tell them what lay between him and Callie. Not that he knew himself anymore.
“I was seven when Callie and I first met,” he started, then proceeded to tell them about their decade-long friendship, about the adventures they’d had, the mischief they’d gotten into.
He told them about Callie’s grandparents and what good people they were, how they’d always welcomed him and Matthew into their home, even when Callie and Daphne weren’t visiting.
He told them how she’d grown up on the other side of town, gone to private school, lived in a nice house with her district attorney father and physician mother.
They already knew how he’d grown up, so he didn’t need to draw any comparisons.
He took them along the journey of his and Callie’s friendship, the friendship that changed around the time he turned fourteen, then imploded in that one night three years later. That night, he’d always been so certain about what had happened. That his perspective on it was the only right one.
He didn’t fight the hollowness of his voice as he relayed the words sixteen-year-old Callie hurled at him. Again, he didn’t need to elaborate; they’d all understand how something like that would stick with him.
His brothers remained silent, listening.
Finally, he took a deep breath and told them about the conversation he and Callie had had less than twenty-four hours ago.
He didn’t give the details of her punishments, that was her story to tell, but he gave them enough that they got the picture.
And understood why he felt a bit at sea.
It was hell on your emotional frame of reference when something you always believed to be true was not, in fact, true.
“Could her father have done that?” Hawkeye asked when he finished. “Essentially ruin your life?”
Philly inclined his head. “Yes. He had a lot of power in town and a lot of friends. We lived on the outskirts, barely in their jurisdiction. I think the only reason my father, Matthew, and I skirted the radar of the authorities is because my dad chose to drink and wreak havoc in the next town over, which was actually geographically closer. It didn’t hurt that I was a good athlete.
Callie and Daphne didn’t go to the public school, but the fact that our football team won the state championship three of the four years I played kind of made me, I don’t want to say untouchable, but very well liked.
Even by people who wouldn’t normally like a trailer-trash kid from the wrong side of town.
“But if her father took it into his head to come after me, yes, he could have. And the police chief was a complete dick. Might still be—both a dick and the police chief. I don’t know, I don’t keep up with the town.
” He paused, then added, “And to Callie’s point, I was almost eighteen. Three months from graduation.”
“Your age and your status as an athlete wouldn’t protect you once you turned eighteen and graduated,” Monk said. Philly nodded.
“Do you believe her?” Hawkeye asked. “Believe she was trying to protect you?”
He paused. Not because he had to think about it, because he didn’t.
He believed her. But even as big a revelation as that was, what occupied his mind most since last night hadn’t been that question.
He’d spent most of the past twenty hours or so beating himself up for not knowing what her life had been like.
It was true what she’d said, that neither ever spoke much about their families, but that seemed a paltry excuse.
He sighed. “I do.”
“But the sting of those words still hurt,” Monk said.
He thought about that, then nodded. “They do. Words matter; they have meaning. But what’s harder is changing my perspective on them. Not because I don’t want to or because I don’t believe her, but because they were such a…”
“Pivotal moment for you?” Hawkeye offered. Again, Philly nodded.
They sat in silence for a long moment, then Lovell spoke. “Words do matter. They do have meaning, but what meaning are you going to focus on?”
Philly glanced over. Lovell’s green eyes held his.
“Will you hold on to the words themselves and what they made you feel? Or will you focus on the meaning behind them? On the fact that she did what she could to protect you? She didn’t just hurt you that day, but herself, too.
But she did it to protect you. You can either focus on that, that she loved you enough to do that, or you can focus on how she chose to do it. The choice is yours.”
Fuck . Philly closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the chair.
Lovell was right. He wouldn’t ever forget the searing pain of that night, but the truth was, Callie had never betrayed him; she’d never turned into someone he didn’t know.
She’d stayed true to the loving, caring, kind, smart-as-hell girl he knew.
Yeah, she could have approached it differently, but she’d been sixteen , almost seventeen, but still young. They’d both been so young.
In the last twenty hours, he’d accepted that he’d have to rearrange his thinking.
It wouldn’t happen overnight; everything was not suddenly fine between him and Callie.
But when things got awkward between them, and they would as they both learned to navigate through this change, he needed to remember that she’d protected him.
One of the few people in his hometown to do so.
That shift in perspective anchored him, easing some of the turmoil. He nodded his thanks to Lovell as his phone dinged with a text. Pulling his device out, his chest squeezed. Callie. Asking if she could see him. He didn’t have to ask what about. Laura Nolan.
Yet another thing Lovell had been right about—the importance of knowing the real reason for her interest in the Nolan family. He could hardly fault Callie for wanting to find out if her friend was targeted or for wanting to bring Liza’s killer to justice. He’d do the same.
He sent a quick text back, telling her he was at the club and she could stop by.
As he hit Send, he realized she might not be comfortable coming to the Falcons’ domain.
He wasn’t ready to have another conversation with her in his home, though.
He supposed he could have agreed to meet her out.
But he was tired, and it was warm in front of the fire.
And he could lean on the quiet presence of his family.
By the time she arrived, Mantis, Stone, and Viper had joined the fireside group and been caught up on the situation by Hawkeye and Monk.
Judging by the way she paused at the door, swept her gaze over all of them, as if hesitantly taking the temperature of the room, she’d guessed he’d told them about their past and wasn’t sure of her reception.
“Callie,” Mantis said, stepping away from where he’d been standing by the mantel.
Her eyes darted to him, and her shoulders relaxed an inch at his expression.
Not exactly smiling, but signaling that she was welcome, although they’d still be watching her.
She gave a tiny nod, understanding the unspoken condition, and stepped farther into the room as his brothers rose or moved from their spots.
“We’re headed to Rita’s,” Stone said, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he passed by. Viper offered her a quick hug. She seemed startled by their reactions but took it in stride.
When the others filed out, she approached him, her strides cautious.
For a fleeting moment, he missed the confident, ball-busting agent she’d been the past few months.
Although, to be fair, he preferred the outfits she’d worn the past few days to the suits she donned like armor.
She’d been wearing jeans when she visited him in his backyard, then last night, she’d had on black leggings and an off-white sweater.
Today, she was back in jeans with the same tall boots, but instead of her puffy black jacket, she wore a maroon windbreaker and black hat.
Both types of clothes fit her perfectly—she was one of those women who looked put together regardless of what they wore—but her suits seemed like a uniform, whereas her clothes in the past few days seemed to reflect her .
“I didn’t mean to clear the room,” she said, walking toward him. He gestured to one of the now-empty chairs, and she sat, holding her hands to the fire.
“They had things to do. We were just catching up,” he said. He could see the question in her eyes, but he didn’t feel like telling her what he had or hadn’t told his brothers. With another tiny nod, she accepted his decision and moved on.
“I stopped by the Blacksmith last night on my way home,” she said.
He arched an eyebrow and almost smiled. She did smile, a rueful one.
“I needed to calm my brain down a little bit,” she said, then paused.
“Joey and Charley and Lina and Juliana were there. They said a few things that maybe I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. ”
He had a good idea of where this was going. What he and the club did wasn’t a state secret, but it also wasn’t something they advertised.
“Did you help Laura escape an abusive relationship? Is that why you’re protecting her?” she asked.
He hesitated, and she jumped in again. “Because if that’s the case, I get it.
I really do. You don’t have to tell me where she is, and I don’t need to talk to her if it will put her at risk.
But maybe we could compromise? Maybe you could speak to her and relay any information to me?
I don’t need her to testify or anything like that, I”—she sighed—“I just need information. I have a few leads, but not as many as I’d like.
If she has any idea which direction I should look, it would be very much appreciated. ”
Since she’d told him about her friend Liza last night, he’d been thinking a lot about the situation. But it was more complicated than she thought, and he had a few conversations he needed to have before he made any decisions.
But before he could come up with a way to ask for time while still acknowledging the importance of what she was doing, his phone dinged with a text, drawing his attention to the device. Leo. He frowned.
“Hold on,” he said. “It’s Leo.” He read the text. “He wants us both to come down to HICC.”
She tipped her head. “Why?”
He rolled his lips before answering. “Well, I got a little curious as to why Laura Nolan would come onto your radar, and so I asked Ava to look into it for me. Only she started having contractions and had to go into the hospital for a few days—she’s fine now, though.
On bed rest,” he added at Callie’s alarmed look. “Then Leo took over.”
Callie blinked. “You asked HICC to look into the Nolans?” He nodded.
“And Leo has information he wants to share?” He nodded again.
A flash of panic crossed her face. He didn’t understand the look, but before he could ask, she let out a deep breath and rose.
“Okay,” she said. “Shall we go together or separate?”