Chapter 13 Callie #4
The sun was below the hills as Wes parked my car off to the side of his house. I wasn’t sure why I still assumed he’d take me to the cabin, but he just crawled out of the driver’s side and gathered Max up before heading toward the front door.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed to know what was happening. “Why am I here?”
Wes examined me from over his shoulder then unlocked his front door. I followed him inside, caging my chest in with my arms. His house was dark, save for the dwindling rays of dusk coming in through his windows.
“Grabbed all your stuff from the cabin already. Got the guest room ready.” Wes gestured to the small door under the stairs, off the living room.
It was a modest room with a queen-sized bed centered with nightstands on either side.
Sheer green curtains hung over closed blinds, falling to the thick carpet on the floor. It was nice, far nicer than the cabin.
“Why am I here, Wes?” I repeated my question, turning to stare at him.
Max had made himself at home in the living room, on the dog bed that had been brought over from the cabin.
Wesley pinned his hands to his hips, glaring at the floor before exhaling, and giving me those whiskey eyes. “There was a picture left inside the mailbox last night.”
My brows caved as I worked to process what he was saying.
“There was also activity around the perimeter, by the cabin…so I made a decision to pull you closer.”
There was so much he was leaving out, and there was a shuddering in my gut that told me the image had something to do with me, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
With a dry mouth, I asked. “What was the picture of?”
Wes continued to stare at the ground for so long I wasn’t sure he was going to respond, but finally he looked up.
“Of you, when you were eighteen, after they took you. It’s you unconscious in their clubhouse…you and the president.”
My breath came out as a sob. “What the fuck does that mean?”
My mind raced, going back to blacked-out memories and terror I had worked so hard to push down. To get rid of.
“They did a rape kit. I wasn’t—” I started but Wes abruptly cut me off.
“You were in his lap…he was just holding you.”
That silenced me, and had me sliding down the wall.
Because fuck, what if they did other things to me that a rape kit didn’t catch?
It wasn’t the first time I had considered it, but every other time the thought would come up, I’d continue on with my life in DC and hide within the new life I had created for myself.
“He wants a war with me, and he knows you’re here. It’s a way of taunting me, but because they know you’re here, we’re not taking any chances.”
This wasn’t happening again. I wasn’t going to go back to living my life as a scared little girl, afraid of whoever was pissed off at my dad. I couldn’t.
I had no idea when Wes lowered himself to my level, but I felt fingers pull at my hands as they covered my face.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Callie. You have to trust me. But it’s partially why I need to read that letter your dad gave you. We’re partners now, babe. I need your help just as much as you need mine. They’d follow you back to DC…you know that.”
I ran a shaky hand through my hair. He was right, I did know that. And I was sure the chances of me surviving a second disappearance were practically zero, especially without my dad here.
Sadness and grief swept through me at the thought of him not being here to make me feel safe.
I had to figure this out. He wasn’t here, but I was still a Stone, and that meant something. I wasn’t just going to give up.
“The letter, River.”
Heaving a sigh, I crawled to my feet, searching the room for my bags. I saw Laura’s things, but mine weren’t anywhere.
“Where’s my stuff?”
Wes was standing now, running his hand through his hair, gripping the ends.
“Uh…I’ll show you.”
He walked out of the room and rounded the stairs, taking them one at a time.
I had already been in this house, so I knew there was only one bedroom on the top level.
Yet, I still trailed him as if I wasn’t sure where he was going.
Maybe he wanted me to stay in that massive closet of his.
Either way, the idea of being in the same space as him both terrified and excited me.
Once we’d made it to his door, he gave me one last look from over his shoulder before pushing inside.
The bed was the same as it was the other day, fluffy with navy blue accent pillows and duvet. There inside the closet were my bags, but they were empty.
I moved further into the closet and then froze.
Hanging neatly on the previously empty bar were all my clothes—shirts and jeans, skirts and shorts.
My shoes were organized on the shelf, and the small satchel I had with the secret lining where I had tucked away all the letters from my dad was there next to them.
There was no use keeping it a secret any longer.
I pulled the bag free and unzipped the lining, pulling the letters out.
I hadn’t built the courage to read the bundle I had originally assumed were from Wes, so while he read the one from the will, I’d be digging into those.
With the notes ready, I spun around to meet Wesley’s gaze.
His eyes narrowed on the bundle in my hands.
“Explain to me first why all my stuff has been unpacked and moved in here?” Maybe there was another explanation, and I was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he was staying inside the club and giving up his personal home for Laura and me to use, and he wouldn’t even be here.
Wes let out a sigh before pushing off from the door frame. Then he stripped out of his shirt and shucked his boots.
“I won’t risk your safety. This is the best place for me to keep an eye on you.”
Heat flushed through me as I considered his response and the way he refused to look at me. He just as easily could have done all this without unpacking any of my things. That was a personal touch that spoke to something deeper.
“Okay.” I moved past the awkwardness of the moment and decided to focus on the letters, “I’ll let you read that letter, and you’re welcome to look through these others too if you want.
But I want to know what’s going on with the club.
I want to know why you don’t want to sell this place. The real reason that has you scared.”
Wesley’s glare hit the ground, and his jaw clenched tight as he considered my request. I stared at his bare chest while I waited for him to agree.
His jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the gray band of his boxers.
The defined muscles along his abs contracted as he stretched his hands above his head and let out a sigh.
“Fuck. Fine.”
He snatched the bundle of letters out of my hand then headed to the bed.
“Well, come on, River, might as well get comfortable.”
I walked forward, slipped out of my shoes, and crawled onto his bed.