Marked By The Devil
Page 9
“I’m really sorry, Callaway. But I can’t do this.”
“It’s a lot to handle. But you’ll get through it. I’ll help you.”
“No, I mean this. I can’t ask you to . . . to do what needs to be done. This is going to be a full-time job.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked.
“That’s okay. We can handle it.”
“I have to focus on my brother right now.”
“Of course. I’m here if you need me.” He squeezed my hand. “For whatever you need.”
I shook my head. It was asking too much.
“Callaway—”
“Don’t. I’m not going anywhere.” His big eyes were full of pain. “Just don’t push me away.”
I sighed and walked over to the window. I stared out, not even registering the beautiful sunny day.
“He’s going to take all of my time, Cal.”
“I know.” I felt him come up behind me. “But not forever.”
“I don’t know what the future is gonna look like. I can’t ask you to wait.”
“You can.”
“No, I’ve already asked you to wait for . . . you know. You have your own life to live.”
“I don’t. I don’t have a life without you.”
His hand slid under my hair to stroke my back. I sighed in pleasure, resisting the urge to lean back against him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you have a life. You had one before we met. You can go back to that.”
“You’re wrong. I can’t go back to that. I won’t.”
I looked at him and my heart sank.
He looked bad. Really hurt and upset. Damn it. I hadn’t wanted to hurt him. I’d imagined his moving on with a hundred girls and forgetting all about me. I was sure they were lining up in droves.
“Molly. We’re together now. We are a team. Don’t break up the team because you’re tired and stressed.”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to, but I can’t even imagine how this is going to work.”
“It’ll work.”
“Callaway. I have to find someplace else to live. I already had to tell Janet I couldn’t work for her anymore. I owe this place some crazy number. I’m pretty sure it’s over ten thousand dollars already. They basically own me. I have no idea how I’m going to support the two of us and—”
He pulled me into his arms again. I let him. It felt so good there. So safe. But I knew I couldn’t stay.
“Shh. It’s okay. It sounds like a lot of money but it’s not. I can pay it.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? I love you, Molly. I want to be with you.”
I forgot to breathe. He kept stroking my back, murmuring soft words of encouragement. That everything would be okay. That he would take care of me. That he would take care of Tommy.
He said he loved me .
“Callaway, he’s going to need so much help. I called my Aunt. She said we could come stay with her in Florida.”
“Florida?” He squeezed me hard. “No.”
I pulled back and stared at him.
“No?”
“That’s right. I said no.”
The look in his eyes was unfamiliar. Steely. Hard.
“You can’t tell me no. I don’t belong to you.”
He smiled. It was not a friendly smile.
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. You do belong to me. And I belong to you, too. That’s what being together means. And we belong together, sweetheart. I’m keeping you.”
My mouth dropped open. Callaway was talking crazy. It was kind of a sweet crazy, but crazy all the same.
“We just met! You don’t own me!”
His smile got wider.
“Oh, I think I do.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “And I think you know it’s true.”
I just stared at him.
“You are not moving to Florida. You’re moving in with me.”
“With you? In your apartment?”
“For now. I was going to tell you but I thought I’d wait until you were less skittish.”
“Tell me what?”
“About the house.”
“What house?”
“The house I’m buying you.”
“What are you talking about?”
He was starting to scare me.
“I was planning to buy a house or build one. I’ve been watching the MLS. I found a few good options last week. I even went to look at them. I haven’t found the perfect place, but I will soon.”
“Buying a . . . house?”
“Yeah. It was supposed to be for us. But there’s plenty of room for Tommy.” He stepped forward until our bodies were touching. “And anyone else who might come along.”
“Huh? Who else might . . . come along?”
My brain wasn’t working clearly. None of this made sense. Callaway rode a motorcycle. He was in a gang. He wanted to move in with me? I hadn’t even given up my V-card yet!
“Babies.”
“Babies?”
I just kept repeating what he said like an idiot. It took a second. He held my hips and smiled at me, waiting for the idea to sink in.
“Are you out of your mind?”
He smiled wider.
“Yes. I am.”
I spun as the nurse wheeled Tommy back in. I guess he was meeting Callaway now. I was so tired I could barely see straight.
“Hey, man. I’m Callaway. I’m with Molly.”
“Cool. You’re the one who brought the milkshakes, right?”
“That’s me.” Callaway stuck out his hand. He was surprising me right now in a really good way. He was cool as a cucumber with my brother. So many people didn’t know how to act around sick people. Especially people in wheelchairs. They just stared and acted awkward. Callaway was just being a guy, talking to my little brother man to man.
Tommy didn’t miss a beat. He shook hands with Callaway, obviously impressed. I looked at the nurse, Maggie. She was one of the nicer people on staff.
“How did he do?”
“He’s a champ. He should get some rest now.” She gave me a pointed look. “So should you.”
Callaway nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets some sleep.”
She smiled at him, clearly charmed.
“Thank you, Callaway. I’ll tell Miss Bonnie you said hello.”
He shook his head.
“I already popped my head in. She was too busy with her latest murder mystery for me. She’s bloodthirsty, that one!”
Maggie had a good belly laugh over that one. I was watching all of this unfolding in front of me. Callaway was taking me home. Callaway was making sure I got sleep. Callaway was going to help take care of Tommy. Callaway wanted us all to move in together.
Callaway wanted babies.
He took my hand and squeezed it.
“We’ll be back tomorrow, my man.”
Tommy grinned and fist-bumped him.
“Cool.”
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” I was practically begging Tommy to ask me to stay. But he didn’t need me. He was okay.
“Go home! You’re starting to smell.”
He pulled a face and I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He might have just woken up from a coma, but he was still my pain in the ass little brother.
And I couldn’t have loved him any more.
Love.
Callaway said he loved me.
He loves me.
I looked up at him as he tugged my hand, leading me out of Tommy’s room. He was texting someone, but he looked at me and winked.
It hit me all at once. He really did love me. It was in his eyes.
Holy hell.
Mr. Big Bad Biker was in love with me.
I was too tired to think about it, but I kinda thought I loved him too.
The minute we were through the door, Callaway tossed me over his shoulder and carried me down the hall.
Chapter Sixteen
&nbs
p; Callaway
“Put me down!”
The delicious package slung over my shoulder was wiggling around. I shook my head and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was grim and determined.
I held her tightly and waited out front for the cavalry to arrive. Every time she wiggled, I slapped her ass. I was too mad to speak and she was too tired to put up much of a fight.
Whiskey pulled up not five minutes later.
“You need a lift?”
“You mind riding my bike?”
“No, man. What’s up?”
“Molly hasn’t slept in three days. I can’t have her falling off my ride.”
“I heard about her brother. How’s he doing?”
“Good. He’s a tough kid.”
“Hmmph!”
Molly was muttering something, so I swung her into my arms so she could meet Whiskey.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, sweetheart. Molly, this is Whiskey. Whiskey, this is my old lady.”
“Well, goddamn. It’s nice to meet you, Molly.”
Whiskey grinned. Molly glared at me. I pretended not to notice.
“I’m not old!”
I squeezed her. She was tired and cranky. We’d sort everything out once she got some rest.
“That’s not what it means, sweetheart.”
Whiskey opened the door, and I deposited Molly in the seat, fastening her seat belt. She pouted a little bit and my heart constricted at the shadows under her eyes. She must be wiped.
That was why she’d tried to break up with me, I decided.
I was still mad about it, but I was more concerned about her than anything. We’d speak on it at length. But not until she got some sleep and some food in her cute little belly.
But we were going to have words.
“What does it mean? Old lady?”
I stared at her, still leaning over her in the car.
“It means you’re mine.”
I slammed the door and used the keychain to lock it. Just in case she decided to be difficult. But she sat there docilely like a good girl.
“Thanks, man. See you at my place. Cool?”
Whiskey nodded and I shook his hand. I gave Molly one last ‘stay put’ look, got into the car, and drove it over to my apartment. She was quiet on the way over, and so was I. It was better that way.
The stuff I had to say was not going to put her in the mood to sleep. She needed rest. I didn’t want her getting herself sick. And I needed her awake for the talk we were having.
Yeah, things were moving fast. But it was right. I felt it in my bones. Her brother waking up had changed things, sped things up. But that was okay. Hell, it was better than okay.
I wanted her under my roof now. I didn’t want to wait until we’d dated for some length of time. I wanted her now. I wanted to ease her burden. And most of all, I wanted her in my bed.
Forever.
If Heaven was whatever you wanted, then I wanted a gigantic fluffy white bed with nothing but naked Molly in it. She could be wearing something sometimes, I decided. Lacy little see-through underthings that didn’t actually cover anything. One of my old shirts if Heaven was chilly. Maybe a button-down with all the buttons missing. That way, it would slide open with the slightest breeze.
And if it was my heaven, there would be plenty of breeze.
One thing that I knew for sure—there were no panties in paradise.
I gave her a look as I pulled in front and put the car in park. She looked nervous. That was good. She should be. What she’d tried to do back there . . . well, there would be a reckoning.
Once she woke up, she was going to have to pay the piper.
Chapter Seventeen
Molly
“Bed.”
I glared sleepily at Callaway. He was pointing at his bedroom, being bossier than a drill sergeant. I shuffled in there, feeling like I was walking through water.
“Lift your arms.”
I grumbled but did as he asked. He stripped me perfunctorily, then slipped an incredibly soft old T-shirt over my head. Considering he was nearly a foot and a half taller than me, not to mention wider, it fit me like a nightgown.
It was so soft against my skin that I made a loud ‘ahh’ sound. I was too tired to even stay mad at him as he settled me in his bed and pulled up the covers.
He gave me a wicked grin.
“Sleep tight, Princess.”
I blinked and closed my eyes. Just like that, I was out.
The smell of something delicious filled the air. I opened my eyes, realizing how hungry I was. My stomach grumbled as the days of barely eating caught up to me.
I had a split-second where I had no idea where I was. It was dark outside, and the only light was coming in around the edges of the closed door. I heard someone humming and making soft clanging noises.
Callaway. I relaxed instantly when I realized whose apartment I was in. He was cooking, from the smell of it.
The man was full of surprises.
I padded toward the kitchen and peeked inside, leaning against the doorframe. Callaway was cooking. His jeans fit him like a glove, showcasing his sexy ass and long legs. He wore an apron over his bare chest. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over all that exposed skin and big, thick muscles.
Cool your hormones, Molly. He’s just a guy, not a sex machine.
But he was a sex machine. He just happened to be a very nice sex machine who looked like the quintessential bad boy. The man knew what he was doing in the sack—and in the kitchen, from what I’d seen so far.
I scratched my hip, yawning sleepily. I wasn’t awake yet, but I could already tell I was more rested than I’d been in weeks, if not months. Years, maybe. The truth was, I hardly ever slept all that deeply because of worry and stress. Because I didn’t feel safe. Because I was alone.
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
I felt safe with Callaway.
The heavily-tattooed, motorcycle-riding, pierced to high heaven guy standing in front of me made me feel safe.
I shook my head, not ready to examine that all too closely. Instead, I tried to figure out what the hell he was making. The kitchen was controlled chaos, with bowls full of various things laid out, cooking utensils scattered over the clean countertop, and two pots simmering merrily on the 1950s-looking stove.
Now I really was confused. I saw the neat curved lines of taco shells lined on a tray, but the smell was distinctly Italian. Garlic, tomato, and basil filled my nostrils. It smelled incredible.
“Italian tacos?”
He turned, clearly not aware that I had been standing there ogling him. And his ass. Mostly his ass.
A lock of hair fell over his forehead and he shrugged sheepishly.
“I like mixing things up.”
I smiled, suddenly feeling more confident.
“I can’t wait to try it.”
He stared at me, the heat in his gaze doing crazy things to my insides.
“I guess I’ll get dressed.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared. I was starting to feel like a freak when he cleared his throat.
“You could take a shower. If you want.”
I nodded and smiled, making a swirling motion with my finger.
“Don’t let dinner burn.”
He blinked and seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head and gave me an exasperated look.
“Yeah, I got it.”
I was practically whistling as I grabbed my clothes and slipped into the bathroom. The water pressure was good, and I took the time to wash my hair with his yummy-smelling shampoo. I didn’t linger though. I wanted to call Tommy, see how he was.
I tried to suppress the urge to imagine the worst-case scenario. His going under again, being scared, alone as he felt consciousness slip away.
He’s okay. It’s over. He’s okay, Molls.
And anyway, there’s nothing I could do about it. Not even sitting there and staring at him every second of every day would keep him safe. That’s not h
ow the world worked.
That dark thought nearly sent me to my knees. I’d been carrying the weight of the world for so long . . . and for what? I was just a human. Imperfect and definitely not all-powerful. So what was I making myself crazy for?
I dried off and put my clothes back on, wishing I had something cleaner to put on. I felt a lot better, though, as I sank onto the couch and dialed the nursing home.
“Hi, I’m calling for Tommy Malone.”
“Is this Molly?”
“Yes! Jackie?”
“Hey, girl. I’ll call his room for you.”
“Thank you so much.”
“It’s no big thing.” A breath as she hesitated. “I’m so happy for you two.”
I felt a big warm spot open up in my chest. We weren’t alone. It wasn’t just me and Tommy anymore. We’d made real connections since we came here.
As if on cue, Callaway walked in, bearing food.
He held up a bowl and a stack of plates.
“Food’s ready when you are.”
I smiled at him, the phone clutched to my ear. I nodded and mumbled, “Thanks.” He started setting the small table by the windows where we’d used the laptop earlier.
I heard the phone ring a few times as I was connected and then a soft click.
“Yeah?”
I closed my eyes and pulled my knees into my chest. The sound of Tommy’s voice was the best thing I had ever heard. By far. He was still here. He was okay.
“Hey.”
“Hey, you.”
“Listen. I’m sorry I’m not there. I’m coming over soon. I just need to eat something really quickly and—”
He cut me off.
“I’m good. Seriously, Molls, you need to chill.”
I laughed, feeling every minute of the last five years. Every second.
“Chill. Right.”
“Well, you do. I’m okay. I’m going to bed soon. And anyway, I could use some alone time.”
I cracked up at that. My brother was a teenage boy and he was basically telling me he needed to wank.
“Gross.”
“Whatever. Just get some sleep or whatever. Is Callaway there?”
“Yeah, I’m at his place.”
“Good. I like that guy.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah. And so do you.”