by Coralee June
"Blaise is just a friend," I finally whispered, keeping my eyes on Lucy, who was now watching us. She cocked her head to the side, a knowing look in her eyes.
"Does he know that?" Callum asked in a low tone.
I chuckled. Blaise was the one who constantly reminded me of the fact. "Yes."
I struggled with what I wanted to say but eventually decided on the truth. "Blaise understands me. In all my years of knowing him, not once have I had to explain what I was thinking. He saw you walk in with that gorgeous woman over there and jumped to my rescue. He was helping me save face, that’s all.”
"And why would he feel the need to do that?" Callum asked as a waitress passed by, carrying a plate full of greasy burgers and hot chili fries.
"Because he gets me," I answered with a shrug, praying that was enough of an explanation.
"And what exactly did he 'get'?"
"Damn, Callum, please don't make me say it. It's embarrassing. Next to you, I feel like a stupid girl with a crush."
Callum rubbed the scruff along his jaw. "Come with me," he said. We bypassed Lucy at the booth, and he didn't spare her an explanation as we left the diner. Strolling towards his police cruiser, he brushed his hand against mine. Callum then opened the back door and pointed inside before saying, "Sit."
I rolled my eyes, preparing for his rejection. But instead, he crawled into the backseat with me and pulled me into his lap. "Oh, Summer," he murmured, nuzzling against my neck and inhaling my perfumed scent. "Do you know when I first realized that I wanted you?" he asked while spinning me so that I was straddling his lap. My head grazed the cruiser's ceiling, and I scooted forward.
"It was about eight months ago. It was close to Halloween, and your Mom wanted to carve pumpkins." Callum scooted me closer, and I let out a breathy sigh as I ground against him as his fingers clutched my hips tightly. I went still when an electric thrill shot through my core. "You were carving a very ugly pumpkin. The eyes were mismatched and the smile crooked, but you looked so damn proud of yourself. Then you nicked your finger with the carving tool, I watched you suck on your thumb and wished it was my cock." Callum grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth. He then sucked on my finger, swirling his tongue around it before raking it gently between his teeth as he pulled it out.
I gasped. Things were so hot with Callum. What was it about wanting the things I couldn't have?
“At first, I told myself that I didn’t deserve you. You were so sweet and innocent. I had to force myself to only stop by once a week. But then I couldn’t keep away.”
"I want you, too," I said as Callum began guiding my hips again. He pushed and pulled me in a steady rhythm until I was riding against his erection, my thin panties the only barrier between us. I was too hot and bothered to care that we were dry humping in the back of a police cruiser. I wanted him.
I leaned in close to kiss him, but Callum pulled back, stopping the kiss from happening.
"When that punk kissed you, I wanted to murder him." I threw my head back, hitting the ceiling of the cruiser in the process but not caring because it felt so damn good. “I want you to be mine, but this is delicate. I’m willing to wait for you, Baby.”
My body was humming with an unspoken need. I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his cheek and increasing the speed of my movements. I was climbing that peak of pleasure, moving selfishly against him without a care in the world. It was just Callum and me.
A loud knock on the window made me freeze and practically throw myself off of Callum. My knees hit the floorboard of the car, and I let out a hiss of pain. Looking up, I saw all three Bullets standing outside the cruiser wearing varying degrees of deadly expressions.
"Fuck," I cursed while adjusting my dress. Anger coursed through me. "I'm going to go kill them now," I said with a frown, causing Callum to smile. I looked at him, but he didn’t seem concerned that we were caught. If anything, he looked like a proud dog, marking his territory.
I reached for the door handle, but he grabbed my hand to stop me. "I'll see you. Be safe. I promise this will be worth the wait," he said before kissing my cheek and releasing me.
When I stepped outside the police cruiser, Gavriel growled at me. "Your food is getting cold, Love." Gavriel's pet name for me seemed sarcastic now. I wanted to smack the mean expression off his face.
I turned to look at Blaise then remembered what he said about crashing my dates. He must have been thinking the same thing. "You do realize I was joking about sucking guys off in the parking lot, right? I didn't mean you should take that as a suggestion."
I laughed, the anger fleeing my body. "You do realize,” I began with a smirk, “that the three of you just gave me a free pass to be a cock block tonight, right? So help me, if any of you sneak off with a girl at this party, I'll knock down the door and dump ice all over you and your victim."
Gavriel didn't look amused, but I was sick of the double standard. Behind Blaise, Ryker lit a cigarette before saying, "Worth it."
Chapter Twenty
Present Day
The hospital kept Ryker overnight for observation. Callum, Joe, and I stayed in the cramped room while Ryker groaned and complained all night.
I felt exhausted and annoyed—a dangerous combination. So when we received his discharge papers and made our way outside, I was relieved to see Gavriel's limo to retrieve us.
Joe said goodbye with a scowl and loaded into a parked Range Rover. I wanted nothing more than to ride back to Gavriel's estate and take a hot shower then slide into a plush bed. But those plans were ruined when Gavriel barked out his first order of the day.
"We're going out for breakfast," he growled. I turned my head to argue with him but froze when I saw his disheveled appearance. No longer wearing his suit jacket, the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt were wrinkled. His normally silky hair, the color of coal, was messy as if he had spent the past hour pulling at its roots. He looked tortured.
I leaned close to him, smelling the whiskey coming off of him in waves. He was either still drunk from the night before or incredibly hung over. Although I felt sympathy for Gavriel's obvious distress, Ryker didn't share my feelings.
"Like hell we are," he said with a growl while leaning his head against the tinted window of the limo. "I would like to go home and sleep."
Gavriel's eyes snapped to Ryker with fierce intensity, and I half expected him to lash out. But Gavriel surprised me. Perhaps he was too worn out from whatever business he had to attend to last night.
"I lost a hundred grand on that fight last night, Ryker. The least you can do is have breakfast with me. Rent for your little gym is due at the end of the month. I would hate for that concussion of yours to make you forget to pay the bill."
Although Gavriel's voice was monotone and bland, the threat was still evident. I now knew the price Ryker paid. He was indebted to Gavriel. I spoke up before Ryker and Gavriel could get into a pissing match in the limo. "Where's Blaise?" I asked. My throat was hoarse as I spoke, and I wanted nothing more than to take a nap. But breakfast with four of the men that consumed my every thought was too tempting to pass up on.
"He's meeting us there," Gavriel answered. His tone was curt.
"Well all right then," I replied while leaning back in my seat. Nobody spoke as we drove down the road. It was an awkward silence bred from unfamiliarity. How could I feel such a deep connection to people I barely knew?
I still didn't understand the Callum dynamic. I didn't understand how he fit into the Bullets’ world, or even if he fit at all.
Ryker and Gavriel had a symbiotic relationship now. Gavriel funded his gym in exchange for Ryker fighting in the ring. And Blaise? He went from worshipping the ground Gavriel walked on to challenging him at every turn.
"Where are we eating?" I asked. The ice cream long forgotten, my stomach grumbled the moment the question left my lips. I looked across the limo at Callum who was grinning.
"It's called Poor Richard's," he answered. I briefly thought back to
a time in Chesterbrook and smiled. There was a restaurant on the outskirts of town that we frequented. It was in one of the less favorable parts of town. We didn't have to worry about running into one of their girlfriends or my family. The food wasn't that good, but the atmosphere made it all worthwhile. Maybe Gavriel also missed those simple moments together.
We pulled up in front of a quaint building with a chalkboard sign out front describing the specials. Eggs Benedict. Omelets. Sausage Biscuits. Various quotes and deals painted in hot pink filled the windows. The logo out front was in a script font that looked fancy.
This was definitely a step up from Virginia's Diner back in Chesterbrook.
Gavriel's security detail checked out the restaurant first. And once Joe gave the “all clear,” Liam walked over to our door and opened it. Gavriel exited first, and I quickly followed behind. The moment I was standing, he gripped my hand.
"How was your night?" he asked.
"It was okay," I whispered. "Callum brought me ice cream," I added with a laugh. I sensed that my night was much tamer than Gavriel's. I didn't know what he did to Boons, but I didn't have to. His expression said everything I needed to know.
"I-I took your advice," I said.
Before Gavriel could respond, Callum exited the limo and placed his hand on my lower back. Ryker followed closely behind, and when I looked over my shoulder, our eyes connected. Nostrils flaring, he lifted his chin then passed us. We made our way towards the bright yellow door just as Blaise rounded the corner on the sidewalk.
He looked between us then leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. "Good morning, Sunshine." Detaching from Gavriel, I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. I'd missed him last night. Even though I knew it was better that he didn't come, he still seemed to make everything feel easier. It was like his confidence rubbed off on me.
Inside the restaurant, Gavriel instructed the hostess to sit us at a large corner booth away from the crowd. The restaurant smelled like syrup, and I ordered the largest cup of coffee they had. We awkwardly sat side by side, with Blaise on my right and Callum on my left, while Ryker sulked next to Gavriel across the table. Silently, everyone looked over the menus until the waitress arrived.
As a teen, I'd gotten used to women fawning over the Bullets. So when the pretty waitress with a fake smile gave each of them a slow and sultry once over, I didn't growl or even frown. I couldn't blame her—the Bullets were hot. Even Ryker, with his black eye and scowl, had a certain appeal.
We each took our turn ordering. Naturally, Gavriel ordered for me: French toast, with two slices of bacon and an egg over easy. It'd been a while since I'd been around anyone other than Phoenix who knew me so completely.
"This place reminds me of the diner back in Chesterbrook," I said as the bubbly waitress sauntered off. "I kind of miss it."
Ryker gripped the handle of his knife and took a large gulp of steaming hot coffee. After swallowing a mouthful, he spoke. "You missed the diner, huh?" I knew what he was hinting at.
"Well, if you must know. Despite the fact that you've become a complete and total asshole, I missed you too. You would know that if you made any effort to have a civil conversation."
A tender touch drifted over the top of my upper body, and I turned my head to the right to see Blaise grinning ear to ear at me. I was then reminded of our conversation yesterday. I had no doubt he was imagining angry makeup sex between Ryker and me.
Before, I didn't understand the tension between us. But as a grown and experienced woman, I knew exactly what was between us. It was palpable. Inevitable.
Instead of responding to me, Ryker slumped back in his seat with a grunt. He cradled his head with a moan. Even though I didn't wish him pain, I couldn't help but smile at his self-inflicted karmic justice.
"How was your night, Gavriel?" I asked. Blaise gripped my thigh, as if in warning.
Gavriel locked eyes with Ryker before responding, "I took care of Boons. He was high which made it an unfair fight." Gavriel took a sip of coffee before continuing. "Ryker still fucked up, but it wouldn't have mattered. Boons couldn't feel anything. We had a nice, long talk about honor in the ring."
The waitress returned and refilled my coffee, saving me from commenting on Gavriel's ominous statement.
"You didn't have to do that. I can handle myself," Ryker growled.
Gav rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he replied deadpan.
"Well," I began, changing the subject, "sounds like an interesting night. What about you, Blaise?"
Callum chuckled as if amused by my determination to have a normal conversation. There was no denying it. I was avoiding the inevitable talk they each wanted to have. They wanted answers. But I wanted normalcy.
"I was bored all night," Blaise pouted. "I wanted to watch," he paused, giving me a mischievous look before continuing, "the fight."
"Was it at least good before he got knocked out?" Callum asked.
"It was interesting. I'd never seen MMA before. I'd like to go to another one."
"I'll take you," Blaise and Gavriel said. My mind drifted to thoughts of being on both of their arms, then it drifted to images of having them both in my bed.
"This is such bullshit," Ryker argued, interrupting my daze. My shoulders slumped, and I directed my eyes away from the table. I wasn't in the mood for his anger.
In the corner of the diner, a large flat screen TV was displaying the news. At first, I simply pretended to be interested in the reports. But that all changed when a sickeningly familiar face filled the screen. Subtitles flowed across the bottom of the screen, and although far away, I could still make out most of the words:
Former Congressman Paul Bright spent the afternoon at the Children's Cancer Center of Sacramento. Projected to be the next Lieutenant Governor of Virginia, Bright is ahead by eight points.
I couldn't tear my eyes away. I watched as the report continued. They discussed his philanthropy efforts and his service in the military. They mentioned his selflessness as a Police Chief, then dove into the controversial bills he supported while in office.
Something jostled me in my seat, but I was too stuck in the memories of the man on the television before me to respond.
"Sunshine?" a distant voice asked. I shook my head, willing the memories to go away while clutching my chest. A tightness had swarmed in over my heart, making it difficult to breathe.
"I-I have to…I have to go," I said. Blaise refused to let me out of the booth. Avoiding his gaze, I knew that he was scared I would try to run. "I'm not leaving. I need to go to the bathroom," I clarified in a whisper.
Blaise gave me a long stare. It was obvious that something was wrong with me, and I prayed that he would let me process it alone. After spending five years relying on only myself, it felt too intrusive to let them see me breakdown.
Reluctantly, Blaise shuffled out of the booth, and I crawled my way out of the vinyl seat. I didn't give the guys a second glance as I sprinted past the bubbly waitress carrying a tray of our food.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I found the bathroom off in the back. Slamming open the door, I then locked it and leaned against the tile wall forcing my breathing to calm. It'd been a while since I’d had a panic attack. But the sensations were still familiar. I felt dizzy. My lungs didn't feel like they could expand enough to get a deep breath. My chest was tight and felt like someone was standing on it. And that someone was Paul Bright.
Paul Bright was evil. He wore a mask of kindness, but I knew the truth. He had blood on his hands.
Tears fell down my cheeks against my will. The bottled up emotion that I kept hidden from everyone else felt too heavy of a burden to bear. I grabbed my chest, wishing to claw a hole in my heart to let the hurt seep out.
Loud knocking on the wooden door of the bathroom drew me out of my panicked haze. I managed to focus long enough to unlock the doorknob. My fingers trembled as I mentally prepared a small apology to whomever was waiting on the other side.
It wasn
't a woman wanting to use the restroom, though. Instead, it was Ryker tapping his foot on the other side of the door. The moment his eyes raked over my tear-stained face, he pushed his way past me and inside the bathroom. I shut the door.
He stood there for a moment simply looking at me. I felt a new level of embarrassment. I'd survived, hadn't I? I'd endured much more pain than this moment, but seeing Ryker look at me with pity was too much.
"What makes a person strong, Sunshine?" he asked. My throat felt like it was closing up, and even though he asked me a question, I couldn't respond.
"Answer me, Sunshine. What makes a person strong? He took a step towards me and wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me close. With his right hand, he pressed my ear to his chest and spoke again.
"What makes a person strong? Feel my words and my chest. Listen to my heart. Listen to its constant beating."
I ground myself against the vibrations of his words, the low tone grumbling in his chest. I slowed my breathing, mumbling to myself the answer he wanted to hear.
"What makes a person strong?" he asked again. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment pushing back the last bit of panic in my system before answering.
"Their ability to take a hit," I choked out. Ryker pulled me away from his chest and looked into my eyes. It was the first time I'd felt recognition from him. It was the first time that he saw me—really saw me. He didn't see a girl that ran away with the intention of hurting him. He didn't see another person on his long list of broken promises and rejection. He saw my genuine fear. He saw the hopelessness in my frown, and in that moment, I knew that he would eventually forgive me. Ryker gripped my upper arms, peering at me.
"I-I'm sorry," I whispered. These attacks were embarrassing. Not even Phoenix had witnessed one. Whenever I felt them coming on, I locked myself in the bathroom and waited them out.
"Please," he pleaded. "Please just tell me what happened."
I rose up on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his. My salty tears landed on his cheek, and I prayed that he would understand. Talking it out was not what I needed right now. I had to be selfish. Even though he needed resolution, I needed him.
