Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Callum
Against Lyric’s wishes for me to stay in bed, I come out to the living room to talk to my friends before they leave.
Especially Danny, who is upset about the plan.
Now that they are finally out the door, I move to the window to watch the always-comical battle of who-gets-to-sit-where.
Danny gets car sick if he rides in the back, so he’s always riding shotgun, and Tobias doesn’t let anyone but him drive the car Danny’s in, so they sort themselves out pretty easily.
I’m distracted for a moment by a glint of metal through the trees, between the house and the road. Once I see that it’s just the postman delivering mail across the street, I return my gaze to the driveway drama.
Bobby pulls the ever-present sucker from his mouth, bops Raef on the forehead with it, and then scoots past our distracted guitarist to claim shotgun in another vehicle.
I chuckle. God, I love those guys. And given the tenseness of the last few days, it’s good to see my friends cutting loose a little.
I hope this separation doesn’t stall Danny and Connor as they try to finish the three songs they claim to have started.
We want to complete the album well before September, like planned.
Then we can settle into the routine of the mini tour Dante has set up to promote the new album and showcase the playlist at Rocktoberfest. I can’t wait.
After another entertaining ten minutes, I watch the caravan finally pull out of the drive, only to see that same glint in the distance. I look closer and it is the postman again. Weird. I would have thought they’d be done with this street by now, since my mail is delivered to my P.O. box in Denver.
I glance at Fig, who remains by the door and ask, “Can you get Dom to come back in? I want to talk to him.”
“Sure,” Fig says and pulls the door open and shouts at Dom. “Are you going to stand out there all day?” Apparently, Dom needs convincing. “Callum’s asking for you.”
Great. Now Dom thinks I’m needy. Thanks, Fig.
Out of my periphery, I see a Suburban pull up, and am confused for a minute assuming it’s one of the vehicles that left with the band, until I see Pen. He gets out, a frown cemented in place, and starts walking toward Dom. Pen doesn’t look happy.
“While you two talk, we’ll make sure Callum has his stuff in order so we can move out by nine tomorrow,” I hear Fig shout and then he comes back in.
Since I can’t hear Pen and Dom, I resign myself to watching the back-and-forth between them through the window. I don’t know what they are saying, but it looks heated.
“Now that the boys are gone, why don’t you go rest,” Lyric says once again.
“Please don’t fuss over me, I’m feeling good,” I assure my nurse, who’s pouting.
“It’s my job to fuss. Besides, I don’t want Dante to fire me.”
“Dante won’t fire you,” I say and return to watching Dom and Pen.
When I see the same postal vehicle turning into my driveway, every alarm in my head goes off. I move to the door and throw it open.
“What are you doing?” Lyric demands, following behind me.
“I don’t get mail here,” I frantically announce over my shoulder, stepping just outside the threshold.
As the postal vehicle speeds up the drive, I see the barrel of a rifle thrust out of the open window.
“Get down,” I scream.
Suddenly I hear rapid gunfire as I’m being tackled from behind. My knees hit the ground first, and pain shoots up my legs. My chest lands in the grass, with my splinted arm is sandwiched between the two. My chin is the last thing to connect with the ground and I see stars.
When the sound of squealing tires fades, Fig growls in my ear, “Don’t move.”
“Callum,” Lyric chokes out my name from my right.
I slowly turn my head and see Jordan on top of him, face to face with Lyric.
“Are you okay?” I reach my hand out to Lyric.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he whimpers, then turns his attention to Jordan. “You can get off me now.”
Jordan looks around, then he pushes away from Lyric, leaving the nurse looking as shaky as I feel.
Fig gets to his feet and carefully helps me up, but my vision whirls around and I’m about to pass out. Strong hands on my waist steady me. When my vision clears, I see it’s Dom.
“Are you two alright?” Pen asks with trepidation. “Callum, you okay?”
“I’m good,” Lyric replies, brushing off the back of his black pants.
I’m not okay. Far from it. But I lie. “Slightly banged my good elbow, but I’m okay.” I rub at my right arm.
“Fig, get Callum back in the house,” Dom commands. “Shit—Pen, you’re shot.”
“It’s only a graze,” Pen utters, glancing down at his thigh.
Pen’s been shot twice now, thanks to that bastard. “I’m going to kill Brian, once I get my hands on that asshole,” I grate out between clenched teeth. “This is all his fault.”
“The vehicle is gone,” one of Dean’s men says as he pulls out his phone. “Want me to call the cops?”
Dom and Pen look at each for a second before Dom shakes his head. “No, Joel. We’re not staying here. Get your team ready. Once Pen is patched up, we’re out of here.”
“You got it,” he says and takes off toward the rest of his team.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as Lyric bends slightly to look at Pen’s wound.
“It doesn’t look bad, but I won’t know for sure until he pulls down his jeans,” he says, and that makes me laugh. Not a full belly one, but a soft chuckle that I can’t help.
Lyric looks up at me, confusion on his face. “I’ll explain when we get on the road.”
I turn toward the house and freeze in place. “My house,” I groan as I swallow down the rising bile. My home has bullet wounds. Everywhere I look, there are holes in the stone facade and cedar.
“Come on,” Lyric says as he and Dom lead me to the sofa. I slowly sit, but my eyes are on Pen.
Dom looks around the room, like he might catch a ghost or something before his gaze settles back on me.
“We’re heading to San Fran,” Dom says calmly.
Although, I see there’s an underlying hard edge to his jaw.
He may not be happy about it, but I’m glad we’re heading to San Francisco.
At least I’ll be with my friends. Then maybe I can call my mum and see how she’s faring too.
“We think it’s the safest place for you,” Pen adds, looking around the room while Lyric cleans his wound. “But we’re not saying anything more until we get in the car. John found several bugs in the house.”
My eyes go wide—someone planted bugs in my house? No wonder Dom and Pen have been looking around the room.
“It’s only a flesh wound,” Lyric confirms as he slathers ointment over the injury, covers it with a big gauze pad, and then tapes it. “Done.”
“Good. Now go pack up and be ready to leave in an hour,” Dom says as he pulls out his cell phone.
“So, am I coming along for the ride?” Lyric asks with a pinched expression. The way his lips have thinned, I don’t think he’s ecstatic about the news.
“Yes, Lyric, you’re coming with us,” Dom says with a tone that brooks no argument.
“But I was told—”
Pen cuts Lyric off. “Like Dom said, you’re coming with us. Please go get ready because we’re leaving here as soon as we can.”
“Is that going to be okay, Lyric?” I ask, feeling terrible that he has no say in the matter.
“Do I have a choice?” He stands, glaring at the two men.
“No,” Dom and Pen say in unison.
Lyric huffs before he strides to his room and slams the door.
“He hasn’t been here a full day, do you really think he needs to come?” I ask, eyeballing Dom, then Pen. “He has no idea what is going on. I don’t want to bring another person into this shit.”
“Too late. He’s involved,” Pen says sadly.
“All this is twisting my guts around,” I say. I feel sorry for Lyric. He didn’t ask for this. “I’m going to go pack,” I announce as I get up from the sofa.
“Take only what you need,” Dom replies, more earnest than before.
I shrug. “I didn’t bring much, anyway.” On my way to the bedroom, I turn and ask, “Will I be able to talk to my mum?”
“No. We can’t take the chance just yet,” Dom throws in, then comes close to whisper the plan for my mother.
After finding out that my mum has been taken to a safe house, I let out a breath and lean against the wall. “Why is this happening to me? And to her?” I cover my face with both hands and slowly shake my head. “I’m exhausted.”
“Cal—”
“No, Dom. I’ve been holding my tongue for way too long. I’m tired. I was literally beaten up, then shot at and tackled, and now I’m being moved about like I’m some damn chess piece.” I close my eyes to stem the tears that are threatening.
“Baby.” I feel Dom move to my left and take my hand. Then a solid presence presses gently on my right side—Pen. Dom continues, “I promise—like I promised Pen, all will be explained once we get to San Fran. Please, bear it a little longer.”
I open my eyes and study the men who snared my attention all those months ago.
From the day each one of them started working for Warrior Black, they have been there for me.
They kept me safe through everything that happened with Danny’s stalker and Connor’s psycho uncle.
And now they are trying to keep me safe from Brian.
Pen cups my cheeks and turns my face his way. “If I can wait for Dom’s explanation, you can too.” He then leans in and gives me a chaste kiss. His lips are warm and gentle, and full of promise. Full of hope that all this will be behind us soon.
“Okay,” I whisper, and kiss him back. And then turn to Dom. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just gather your things. We will handle everything else, including locking up.”
“And I’ll talk to Lyric,” Pen says, which eases my mind. Pen can have a gentle touch when talking to others, whereas Dom almost always comes at you like a blunt object.
Within a matter of an hour, we leave my mountain home and head to San Fran. Or so I thought.