Chapter 33
CALLIE
Twelve hours after Hawk found me in the safe room, I stood outside the police station–again–with Hawk at my side.
God I was already tired of this place and I’d only been here twice this year.
There would be more visits. No doubt I’d have to be there for trials and all sorts of stuff I’d rather avoid.
Avoiding the problem didn’t make it go away. It had taken me a while to learn that, and I didn’t dare give in to my urge to stick my head in the sand and pretend none of my problems existed.
“Diesel is on the perimeter and Colt just checked in.” Hawk took my hand and brought it to his lips. “You can do this, Callie. Your statement is the final piece that ties it all together.”
“I know.” But hearing him say it helped calm my racing pulse. I took the first step, then the next. “And I’m sure Agent Hart will love hearing that you’re here to make sure the Vultures don’t get framed as the aggressor.”
“Hey, I trust Hart. It’s everyone else who might try and twist the narrative.” He kept his lips in a flat line, but hints of amusement glittered in his eyes. “Colt isn’t happy about being left out.”
“He’ll be okay.” I managed a smile. He’d pouted almost as convincingly as Cody when Hawk told him to stay behind and keep watch.
But he did it, kissing my cheek and promising me that he understood being a father meant doing whatever it took to keep the kid breathing.
He’d smiled as he said it, and we both realized that he’d genuinely settled into the role of Cody’s father.
We entered the police station side by side, and the same woman behind the desk half rose from her seat.
Agent Hart stood in front of a glass door leading to a conference room. He took a step forward and held out his hand. “Thank you for coming.” His left eyebrow twitched upward. “Hawk. What brings you here?”
“Oh, you know.” He hugged me to his side. “Moral support. Making sure the paperwork doesn’t have our names splashed all over it.”
“Mm-hmm.” Hart took a step back, pushing the door open as he moved into the room. “By all means, come inside and see for yourself. There are some things I can’t show you, of course, but you’re welcome to ask as many questions as you want.”
“Who are you, and what did you do with the grumpy guy?” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked him over.
Hart grabbed a chair and pulled it away from the table. “He’s locked up because I finally got those assholes locked up.” There was almost a sense of childish glee in the way he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get started.”
I sank into a chair and crossed my ankles, pulling them underneath me and gripping Hawk’s hand tight enough my fingers ached.
Hart sat across from me and tapped the recorder in the middle of the table, then turned on a camera. “Please state your name for the record.”
I did as he asked and he scribbled in a yellow legal pad in tight, pinched handwriting I couldn’t read from this angle. I gave Hart everything from Wade’s voice on the phone to my recollection of the fire, the shots fired at us, anything and everything I could possibly remember.
Hart pushed printed copies of the ledger toward me. “The entries on pages four through seven. Can you confirm these match what you photographed from the original document.”
“Yes.”
“And the names on the margins on page nine?” He watched me with a careful expression, doing everything by the book.
I nodded. “Yes, those are the same. I remember them from when Wade lived with us.” I shuddered at the reminder, and Hawk squeezed my hand.
“Some are men that Wade mentioned as owing him favors. A few others are men he collected from.” I’d known more than I understood.
All those years living under Wade’s thumb, and I’d blocked out several memories that came flooding back these last few days.
“What can you tell me about the route notations on page thirteen?”
I picked up the pictures and squinted at the handwriting. “Wade used those routes. He always said they were his favorite because they took him through beautiful country.”
We went back and forth like that for an hour before Hart turned off the recorder and camera.
“This ledger gives us more than routes and payload. It pins leadership on Ridge, and the photos we gathered from the hits last night turn this from random violence into organized pressure with a chain of command. This gives us everything we need.”
“Good.” I took a second to examine the room. Now that I could breathe, it helped to recalibrate my system. A whiteboard covered in roadmaps with dots pinned in various locations and pictures of half the Hellhound crew took up most of the back wall.
Agent Hart set his hands on the table and leaned forward. “The Iron Vultures are not going down for any of this. I might not be the highest agent in the ranks, but this is my case. I made the calls, and I did the arrests. This is mine all the way through. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before.” Hawk sat back, his legs splayed open in a casually aggressive pose. “I’m trusting you, Hart. I don’t do that often or lightly.”
Hart dipped his chin in a tiny nod. “Understood.”
An hour later, we pulled to a stop outside the house and Hawk cut the engine.
Colt met us at the gate with Cody on his hip. Cody had refused to take off Colt’s hoodie but he’d stopped hiding his face even though he locked his arms around Colt’s neck and chewed the strings.
“How’d it go?” Colt held out a hand to help me from the truck.
“Good.” I ran my fingertips over Cody’s cheek. “Have you eat?”
“Colt made eggs.” Cody’s nose crinkled. “Again.”
“I make good eggs.” Colt huffed his usual laugh that came out easy and light.
Cody straightened and placed his hands on Colt’s cheeks. “You always make eggs. There are other foods.”
“Name one.”
“Pasta.” Cody pinched Colt’s face between his hands. “I like pasta.”
“I don’t know how to make pasta.”
Cody shrugged. “Mom can teach you.”
They went back and forth all the way across the yard, up the steps, and into the house. The strangled feeling I’d been living with relaxed a fraction.
Hawk poured coffee and handed me a cup. I waved it away. “I’m going to put Cody to bed.” He had to be exhausted, and even with all the excitement last night I’d caught him yawning several times throughout the day.
I shook my head at Colt and Cody as the food argument continued all the way through Cody pulling on his pajamas and climbing into bed.
He pulled the covers up to his chin and burrowed into the pillow. “I like it here. Can we stay forever?” Cody lobbed the question like it weighed nothing, but it landed with all the subtlety of a bomb.
“I’d like that.” I locked eyes with Colt.
“But you have to learn how to make pasta.” Cody yawned again and tucked his hands beneath his chin.
“I will.” Cody brushed his son’s hair back and kissed the top of his head.
We walked out together, pausing in the hallway for a moment alone.
I crossed my arms loosely over my stomach, more to keep from shaking than out of fear or a need to protect myself.
I felt at home here. For the first time in my life, I had a place that welcomed me.
“I’d like to tell him you’re his father. If that’s what you want.”
Colt nodded. “I’d like that a lot. Not tonight. Let him rest. But soon.” He skimmed his knuckles down my cheek. “It’s good to have you back. Both of you.”
“Vehicle on the property line.” Diesel stuck his head around the corner. “Got eyes on them. Looks like someone thinks they can sneak onto the property.” He tossed his phone toward Colt. “Watch my back.”
“Diesel, wait.” Colt took a step forward.
“No.” Diesel strode out of the house.
Colt cursed and turned the phone around to show the screen. Six camera feeds scanned left and right. One locked onto movement on the service lane that Diesel had marked and added a camera to last week.
The image zoomed in on a man creeping down the fenceline, something small in his hands.
Diesel streaked across the yard in a low crouch, darting from cover to cover.
My heart rose into my throat, and I gripped Colt’s arm with both hands.
Hawk stepped into the hallway, phone in his hand. “Agent Hart, we have a situation. Got an intruder being taken down. Attempt at a live retrieval. Need you here for the handoff. On camera.”
“On my way.” The call ended almost before Hart finished talking.
Hawk eyed us with a deep frown marring his expression before turning on his heel.
“I’m coming with you.” Colt took a step forward at the same time the bedroom door flew open and Cody hurtled out.
He threw his body at Colt’s legs and wrapped both arms around him. His body trembled, and he scrambled up Colt’s legs. “What’s going on?”
It took a second for anyone to answer.
Colt’s upper body leaned forward like he might break free of Cody’s grip and take off after Hawk. He pulled his body back and picked up Colt, tucking him into the curve of his arm. “It’s okay, bud. Diesel and the others are taking care of it.”
And he chose to stay with his son.
My aching heart fractured and healed all at the same time. He chose Cody. In a moment when he fought his instinct to run into danger, he chose, of his own willingness, to stay.
Chaos ensued around us. Hawk’s phone rang at the same time voices trickled in from outside. Diesel had captured the guy without either getting hurt. Time slowed as Hawk answered the call. His eyes met mine, and he smiled. “They have Ridge in cuffs.”
Finally. Thank god. Finally. Getting the Hellhound’s president had been the final piece.
We were done. I swayed toward Colt and wrapped my arms around him and Cody. “It’s over.” The Hellhounds no longer had any sway over the county. We were free.