Chapter 37
Chloe's voice on the phone is already breaking before I've even properly processed what she's saying.
"Mason—he's here—Ryan—he found me—"
Everything in me goes still in a way that isn't calm.
It's focus.
Pure.
Sharp.
"Where are you?" I ask immediately, already moving.
"In the bathroom with Ava," she chokes out. "I locked us in—I didn't know what else to do—he's at the door—he's trying to get in—"
Ava crying in the background cuts through everything.
That sound locks something in my chest.
"I'm on my way," I say. "Do not open that door. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," she whispers.
The call ends.
I'm already out of the locker room.
"Callahan!" I snap.
He looks up immediately from the bench. One look at my face and he's on his feet.
"What happened?"
"Chloe. Emergency."
That's all it takes.
We're moving.
No questions after that.
Just speed.
Just intent.
The drive is a blur of traffic lights and tension so thick it feels like it's sitting in my lungs.
Callahan doesn't speak.
Neither do I.
When we reach the apartment block, I don't even wait for the car to stop properly.
I'm out.
Stairs.
Two at a time.
Something already feels wrong before I even see the door.
Then I turn the corner.
And I hear it.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"
My stomach drops.
We're too late for calm.
The apartment door is hanging off its hinges.
Forced open.
Inside the hallway—
Ryan is standing there.
Chloe's bathroom door is shut tight at the end of the hall.
He's pounding on it.
"CHLOE! OPEN THIS DOOR! YOU THINK YOU CAN HIDE FROM ME?"
Ava cries on the other side.
And then Chloe's voice—small, broken.
That's what tips it from bad to unbearable.
Ryan turns the second he sees us.
And smiles.
Like we're expected.
"Finally," he says.
I don't speak.
Not yet.
Because I can already hear what he's been saying through the door.
Callahan moves beside me quietly, already reading the space.
Ryan tilts his head, eyes flicking between us.
"So this is it," he says. "You've been hiding in here playing house with my girl?"
My jaw tightens.
Callahan mutters under his breath, "Oh, he's unwell."
Ryan laughs.
"She's in there crying for you?" he says, voice sharpening as he looks at me. "Or crying for both of you? What is it—sharing her now?"
I take one step forward.
"Step away from the door."
Ryan's eyes snap to me.
"You don't get to tell me what to do in my own situation."
"Your situation?" Callahan repeats coldly.
Ryan ignores him and leans slightly toward the bathroom door.
"CHLOE," he calls again, louder. "YOU THINK THEY'RE GOING TO SAVE YOU? YOU THINK HE'S ANY DIFFERENT?"
A pause.
Then his voice drops lower—meaner.
"You're a whore, Chloe. Running around with soldiers now? Is that it? Couldn't stick to one man, so you picked two?"
My vision narrows.
Callahan shifts instantly beside me.
"That's your first mistake," I say quietly.
Ryan smiles again.
"Oh? And what's that?"
I move.
Fast.
I don't think.
I just hit him.
Ryan stumbles back into the hallway wall, but he recovers quicker than I want.
He swings.
I block.
Drive him back again.
Callahan is already moving to cut off his angle toward the bathroom.
"Hey," Callahan calls sharply toward the door. "Chloe. It's Liam. You're safe. Can you open up for me?"
There's a pause.
Ryan laughs while trying to shove off me again.
"She trusts you, too?" he spits. "Of course she does. She's desperate."
"Shut your mouth," I say.
I slam him back into the wall again.
Harder.
He grunts, but his mouth keeps going.
"Do you know what she is?" he shouts at me. "She'll sleep with anyone who looks at her twice if it makes her feel safe—"
That's enough.
I grab him and throw him hard into the hallway floor.
Callahan crouches by the bathroom door now.
"Chloe," he says, softer, steadier. "It's Liam. I need you to unlock the door for me, yeah? Just me. I'm going to come in and take Ava. Mason's right here. You're safe."
There's silence.
Then a faint, shaking voice.
"How do I know?"
Callahan doesn't hesitate.
"Because I'm not him."
A beat.
Then a lock clicks.
Callahan opens the door slowly and slips inside.
I exhale once—sharp—but I don't look away from Ryan.
Because he's already getting back up.
Still smiling.
Like this isn't over.
Like he's enjoying it.
"You really think this fixes anything?" he says, wiping blood from his mouth.
"No," I reply.
Then I hit him again.
But this time—
He reaches into his jacket.
And pulls out a knife.
Everything stops for half a second.
Even Callahan, halfway into the bathroom, turns sharply.
Ryan holds it up like it proves something.
"She's mine," he says quietly. "And I'm taking her."
Something cold and absolute settles over me.
Not fear.
Decision.
"Put it down," I say.
Ryan smiles wider.
"No."
He comes at me.
And this time I don't hold back.