by Vivian Wood
The robbers had known too much for it to all be random. Where the house was, the location of the cocaine, the fact that they should visit at night…
And she was the easiest target, the closest at hand.
It made sense, right?
Right?
He left the safe house in a hurry, his mind jumping from one thing to the next. He should be checking the other safe houses, seeing what employees were at hand and who was down for the count, trying to figure out why the fuck this had happened.
He pulled out his phone and dialed, pointing his car in the direction of one of the safe houses.
“Yeah?” Dec answered.
“The safe house on Girard St. just got robbed.”
Declan was quiet for a second. “Is Viola all right?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m going to send a guard over to the motel where I’m stashing her, just in case.”
“What, in case someone breaks in? Or in case she runs?”
“Either.”
Another pause. “Jesus, Callum. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Everything I can.”
“…alright. How can I help?”
After a few minutes of discussing the game plan with his friend, Callum hung up. He had a lot to do tonight, and a lot of houses to check.
He hoped Viola wouldn’t do anything foolish, like wait up…
The next day, Callum returned to the motel with the intention of straightening things out. One of the guys hadn’t shown up for his shift, and Viola hadn’t done anything stupid, so…
Things were looking up for her, in his book.
He gave the guard outside her door a nod to leave and let himself in.
She was in a chair by the window, looking beautiful but bleak. She barely looked up at him when he came in, didn’t say anything about the fact that he’d slept and showered elsewhere.
“Why am I still here?” she asked, looking out the window. It didn’t look out onto much, just some trees.
“Because this place is safe,” he sighed, sitting in the other chair.
“No. Why am I here at all?” she asked. “Surely it would have been easier for you to just… let me go? If you weren’t going to kill me, you could’ve let me go.”
She was monotone, as if bored. Or reliving a sad time in her life, perhaps.
His heart twisted in his chest.
“Maybe at the beginning, it would have been easier,” he said. “Now… who knows?”
Viola turned to look at him, emotion shimmering wetly in her ocean blue eyes.
“You won’t keep me here, like this. I know what it is to be kept, you know. My whole childhood, I was kept. I won’t sit on the shelf until you’re ready to…”
“Whoa, whoa. Nobody is keeping you,” he said, reaching out for her hand.
She pinned him with that electrifying blue gaze.
“No?”
A part of him squirmed at the thought. Wasn’t he doing just that?
“Listen. You want to go outside, want to go somewhere? Let’s go.”
“Just like that?” she asked skeptically.
“Just like that. We’ll go someplace nice, The Cove or something.”
“Yeah, I can’t do that. You took my suitcase, which means you took my money. And my books.”
“It’s on me. Besides, you have to let me buy you some new clothes, because you have nothing to wear.”
“Or you can give me my suitcase back now,” she said with a frown.
“Nah. Come on, it’ll be more fun this way.”
He smiled, and after a few seconds she gave in. “Okay.”
She let him hustle her out to the car, and soon they were headed to The Cove. The Cove was a huge collection of designer stores, and it was tucked away thirty minutes from the city.
Where would be better to hide than a huge cluster of department stores? He should’ve thought of it sooner.
They were quiet on the way out, him thinking of scenarios they should avoid, and her…
He glanced at her, staring out the window in contemplation. He might not know what she was thinking, but he knew it was bad. It had to be, the way she refused to look at him.
Determination filled him, that today would change her mind.
She’d see, he could be… well, if not fun, then entertaining.
They pulled into the main lot at the center of the circle of stores and parked. He reached into the backseat and produced sunglasses and a ball cap for her, then a similar pair of accessories for himself.
“What?” he said, in response to her stare. “It’s a good look.”
“Nothing,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Nothing at all weird about two people in ball caps and sunglasses.”
Still, she pulled hers on without a fight.
“Alright,” he said, motioning to the stores. “Where should we start? Left or right?”
Viola pursed her lips. “Left looks more expensive.”
“Left it is.”
“That’s not what I meant—” she started as he pulled her to the left.
“Just go with it.”
They hit several stores, with Viola buying very little. Everything she did end up with was because Callum thought it would look good on her, and charged the salesperson with ringing it up.
Viola spotted a bookstore, and he could tell from her face that she was thrilled. She was entranced by the books, looking reverently at them.
“Pathophysiology: The Biologic Basis for Diseases in Adults and Children. This is really what you want?”
She bit her lip. “To start with.”
“Well, shop away. Don’t worry about the cost.”
The look on her face was priceless. When they left the bookstore, they had several textbooks that looked like an absolute bore to Callum, plus one ‘beach reading’ type of romance novel. Callum had insisted on the latter, in case she wanted to read something saucier.
They kept walking, until they passed by a French lingerie store, and Callum winked at her.
“Time to buy unmentionables.”
“Wait—”
He was already pushing her inside the boutique, with burlesque feather fans hanging from practically every surface. The whole store smelled faintly of lavender.
“Good God,” she breathed. “This place is ridiculous.”
Callum stopped, then looked at her. “Scared?”
She laughed. “I haven’t fallen for that since grade school.”
“No?” he said. He turned to the plump-looking gent who came looking to help, ingratiating smile on his face. Callum held up his Amex Black Card between two fingers, and the salesclerk’s smile grew wider at the sight. “Can you help her find her size? I’d just like to sit and watch.”
“No, I don’t need—” she protested, only to be dragged away by the salesman.
“I’m Chastain. Don’t worry about a thing, doll,” he said, pointing out a bench where Callum should wait. They disappeared back into a dressing room nearby.
Callum sat. He heard murmurs of quite a bit of bickering, but in the end Viola came out in lingerie… and what he saw took his breath away.
She wore an ivory silk teddy, showing off her cleavage and legs to devastating effect. He stood up, softly stunned by her looks; she gave him an eye roll.
“He made me come out here,” she said, motioning to her outfit. “This had the most fabric.”
“You look… incredible,” he managed.
“Yeah? It’s not a flop, huh?” she teased.
Callum moved toward her like a panther stalking its prey. She took a step back, losing the smile on her face as he closed in.
He kissed her hard, feeding all the hunger he’d felt into the kiss. There was nothing tentative about it; his lips were brutal, savage.
And she opened for him. Fucking moaned into his mouth, her nails in his hair, fucking pushing herself against him like he was oxygen.
She gave and he took, eating it all up. Bent her backward right there in the shop,
owning her, possessing her for all to see.
She was his, no doubt about it…
The clearing of a throat pulled him back to his senses. He looked over to find the salesclerk looking pleased with himself.
Viola immediately separated herself from him, moving across the room as if that would be enough to keep them apart. Her cheeks were two bright blooms of red.
“Does the lady want to try anything else on?” the salesclerk asked, smarmy as could be.
“Um, no,” she said. “Let’s just go wrap some things up.”
She avoided Callum’s gaze as she followed the salesclerk to the fitting room. With the clerk gone, at least Callum could adjust himself, try to gain a little comfort.
He still felt her kiss on his lips, burning like fire. And all he could think was…
He wanted more.
He wanted her writhing against him, begging for him, soaked for him. He wanted her under him, without the lingerie, and he wanted it soon. Damn what his brain was telling him, he was going to have her.
Callum passed his credit card off to the salesclerk, who was busily wrapping up several bags of items. He didn’t care about shopping anymore, now that she had kissed him; besides, they had grabbed enough stuff.
When she finally came out of the dressing room, she grabbed the bags and thanked Chastain. Without making eye contact, she zoomed out the door, leaving him in her dust.
When he got outside, she was smiling at him with the most fake saccharine look he’d ever seen.
“How does lunch sound?” she asked. “Or maybe you’d rather grab a burger while we drive?”
He stopped and looked at her, libido still raging. Did she not feel the same fire that he did, the hunger? She seemed to have forgotten the entire thing.
“What?” she challenged, staring him down.
To check her, he would have to say his thoughts out loud, put himself in the position of being the weak one.
Yeah, right. If she wanted to play games, that was fine. He was the master of games, when it was about something like this.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I was thinking Brocato’s for lunch. Pizza sound good?”
Her nostrils flared slightly, but he saw something unexpected in her eyes: relief.
Whatever game she was playing, it seemed complicated. Too complicated for him to figure out.
“Yeah, pizza sounds good…” she said.
He headed toward the car, Viola in tow. Somehow he had just unwittingly entered into a pact with her, and damn if he knew how to get out of it.
17
The next day, Callum took a personal day. Or what he would call a personal day if he worked a normal job, anyway. Whatever that was…
He slept later than usual, hit his apartment’s gym, showered with the help of some very dirty thoughts, and was eating a late breakfast when Viola made her appearance.
She wore an oversized shirt and gray shorts, obviously meant for sleeping in. He eyed the shirt, wondering who it came from. He shouldn’t care, but damn. It made him jealous.
“Good morning,” he said to her.
She went from looking tired to looking like something had spoiled.
“Ugh, the sun is bright enough. You don’t have to be so in my face about it,” she said.
“I made coffee.”
A grunt was her only response. He worked on his bowl of granola silently, waiting to speak again until she’d fixed herself a cup and had a few sips.
“You ever going to get used to early mornings?” he asked.
“Not if I can help it.”
He snorted. Finishing his granola, he washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away.
“Did the SEALs make you crazy tidy?” she asked.
“Hard to be messy when you don’t have anything to get dirty.”
She looked at him. “You were… poor? Growing up, I mean.”
He made a face. “Not exactly. My mom died when I was sixteen, but until then, it was… well. We had the basics.”
“I didn’t know your mom had passed.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I know what that’s like.”
Callum shrugged. “Anyway, I meant in the SEALs. The Black Saints, we all joked that we lived on deployment. Volunteered for it. So after a while, we stopped keeping nice things around. What we had on missions was a restricted version of what we had at home.”
“Huh. Sounds… well, sounds awful.”
“You’re not going to thank me for my service, are you?”
“Not when you put it like that, I’m not.” She considered Callum. “You’re not working today?”
“Not planning on it.”
“Well, what are we going to do?”
“I didn’t realize I was entertaining us both.”
“Them’s the breaks, soldier-man.”
He considered the day before him. He had to run a bunch of boring errands, picking up dry cleaning and all that jazz. Then he was taking himself out to the range.
The Italians would be fools to attack them at a gun range. It was madness.
“You want to go shooting?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Pardon me?”
“I like to go out to the shooting range. Keep myself sharp. I was wondering if you’d like to go.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose.
“The other alternative is that I go by myself, while you stay home.”
“When you put it that way…” she said, still not looking thrilled with the idea.
“I have a bunch of errands to run. How about if you’re ready by one o’clock?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“All right.”
He went to run his errands, pleased that she’d agreed.
When he came back to get her, he found her draped over the living room couch. She was dressed at least, in a tiny yellow tank top and a pair of white short shorts. Her head was firmly in a book, though.
What was there to even study? For people out of school, anyway.
He went into the bedroom to deposit his dry cleaning, and get his guns. He didn’t have a ton of choice in the matter, since all he had on paper were two Glocks. That didn’t take into account 80 percent of his gear, but she didn’t need to know about all that.
He loaded up his weapons in a duffel bag and grabbed a few hundred bullets, too. Now the bag was heavy, typical of the mobster he was supposed to be.
Callum headed out to the living room. She was still as engrossed in a medical textbook as ever.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
She held up one finger, turning the page, and finished some little bit of the book. Then she closed it with a snap, sighing.
“The brain is so complex,” she said, standing up and putting the book aside. “Did you know that after a stroke, the brain relearns all the pathways to affected organs? Like if a patient’s hand is affected in the stroke, the brain will either relearn the pathways to make the hand function, or it’ll learn new ones.”
“No, can’t say I did,” he said, impressed by her ability to learn. “You should probably go put another shirt on, something that covers the…”
He motioned to his décolletage.
She cocked her hip. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. It’s protect you from the recoil on the gun. It kicks back some seriously hot lead, really fast.”
“Oh.” Her rage about being told what to wear subsided. “All right. Be right back.”
She ran to her room, and came back with a suitable long-sleeved top, a nice jade color.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
He drove her out to a range that was a bit outside the city. It was usually empty, and the people there didn’t ask too many questions.
When they got out of the car at the strip mall, going into a former department store, Viola slid him a look.
“These guys have heard that armed gunmen and malls don’t mix, right?”
He chuckled. “Don�
�t worry. They just needed the space, and this was a nice place to set up.”
“Ah.”
They walked into the shooting range. Half the place was set up as an obstacle course, half regular style with lanes. There was a counter up front, against the wall. There was every conceivable kind of gun stuck up there behind safety glass, with targets and polaroids of the owners hitting a bullseye.
Fair warning, he thought.
He could see the shooting range, laid out nice and clean for them. They just had to get by the gun-loving Savannah boys first.
“Hello,” Callum said, putting his bag with the guns and ammo on the counter. There were two guys behind the counter, one fat and one skinny, both in camo.
“Well, looky here,” said Skinny. He was looking at Viola, of course. “Welcome.”
“Yeah, welcome. We don’t see much of your kind around here,” Fat said as he eyed her as well.
“Ummm…” Viola said, looking to Callum for help.
“Two shooting passes,” Callum said, disinterested in the struggle that started occurring between the two over who got to stand at the counter closest to her. “Got my own weapons here.”
Skinny nodded to him, giving up on the battle with his friend in order to do his job. He looked in the bag and nodded to Callum.
“One hundred bucks,” he said, his gaze sliding back to Viola.
Callum could tell that both men wanted to spend more time with Viola, shoot the shit, but he disappointed them.
“Hey,” he said to her. “Take this bag over there, all right?”
Viola nodded, lifting the bag with obvious effort.
“I can help her,” Fat offered, pivoting in her direction.
“No.” The word came out a little harsher than he meant it to, but damn.
Fat scowled. Skinny lit up when he saw the hundred dollar bill Callum proffered; to him, cash was king.
“Need a receipt?” Skinny asked as he eagerly accepted it.
“Nope.”
He walked away as soon as possible. That was the thing about rednecks with guns. Callum was loathe to make them angry, because they had a lot of guns.
Better to avoid that fight. Still, his knuckles were cracking from the episode.
So much for this being relaxing, he thought.
He found Viola at the end of the row of stalls. They’d been retrofitted to be bulletproof, with targets hanging at the opposite end from where they stood.
