by Vivian Wood
They walked away from the only other tourists within eyesight, ending up on a sandy dune not far from the tree line.
“This is good,” she said, setting down the chairs.
He put the cooler down, glancing around. “Okay.”
She eyed him as she set up the chairs and went to work slathering on level fifty sunblock. He looked out to sea for a minute, then turned his chair somewhat so he could see the parking lot.
They sat down, and she eyed him as they sat. Again, he glanced out at the sea for a second, then there was the inevitable check of the parking lot.
She pursed her lips.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked.
He looked guilty for a second, then it was gone. “No one.”
“Really? So you’d be okay turning your chair away from the parking lot?”
She saw the look of indecision on his face, before he decided to tell her.
“I’m just being watchful. The Valetti family has had some news, some really bad news. The body of Peter Capistrano has been found.”
“Who’s Peter Capistrano?” she asked.
“The guy we were hunting for, the one who saw the hit.”
“Oh.” She looked out at the ocean, as if it had a solution. “You guys killed him?”
“Jesus!” he glanced around, though there was no one to hear them but the fish. “No, we didn’t. And you don’t wanna use that word around me, alright?”
She waved her hand at the dearth of people around who could overhear. “No one is here, you lunatic.”
A sour expression crossed his face.
“That word is the only way that people in my line of work get busted, okay? And Capistrano got taken care of by someone else before I could get to him. I was gonna pin the Valetti hit on him.”
She bit her lip. That made more sense, why Callum was still interested in him.
“Shit. You were trying to save me?”
“Yeah. Word’s out there, for those listening. People know that some blonde chick that I run with did it.”
“And yet, you wouldn’t let me dye my hair. Or more sensibly, run away.”
He looked away at that, but she could tell that he was irritated by that. What should she say, that she would stay here with him forever? That she loved him?
Her mouth twisted bitterly. Even if she knew what she felt to be true, what did it matter? He wasn’t the type to ask for a quarter, much less some girl to stick around for a while.
“So, what? What do you expect from me now?” she demanded.
His continued silence and lack of eye contact said everything she needed to know.
Viola stood up, stripping out of her beach cover-up, and went out to wade in the water.
The water doesn’t hold any secrets, she thought. At least there’s that…
A little later, when he came down to the water and pulled her close, she let him.
Knowing that no one could see her, she kissed him hard, her way of saying I’m sorry. She let him take her out to where the water was deep, let him pull down her bikini bottoms, let him spear her with his rock-hard cock.
He kissed her hard as he rocked within her, filled her to the brim. And when they both came together, it reminded her of nothing so much as a tidal wave.
She almost wished they would be swept out to sea, that they wouldn’t have to make decisions anymore. It seemed glorious, in a way.
They came down from their passionate high, Viola collecting her bikini bottoms and drifting back to shore. There was nothing decided, but strangely there seemed no rush…
Callum helped her to shore, where they returned to their chairs.
When she busted out one of the books he’d gotten her, he spoke.
“You studying because you want to go back to school?”
She paused. “I hadn’t thought about it. We’re in the middle of a turf war between the Irish and the Italians mobs. I think we’re lucky to make plans for next week.”
He blew out a breath. “You’re right, in a sense. But you’re also wrong. It’s important to have long-term goals.”
“What are yours?”
“Well… not work for the fucking Cúram, that’s one.”
“Yeah, but that will happen on its own. What else do you want to do?”
He sucked his teeth, considering.
“I want to be normal. Like… I want what everyone wants.”
“You want a picket fence and two point five kids?”
“I want freedom. I want the safety of knowing that if I find someone to have two point five kids with, the Cúram won’t blackmail me.” He glanced sidelong at her. “You can see why I would be a bad choice now, romantically.”
She snorted. “You and me both.”
He looked at her, sober as a judge.
“Why’s that?”
Her mouth went dry. She’d forgot for a second that he didn’t know.
“I just meant… you know, I’m damaged.”
“If you’re damaged, I’m fucked.”
He said it wryly, as a joke, but she just looked away.
“You got something to tell me?” he asked after a moment.
It took her a second to answer.
“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly.
When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she picked up her book again, pretending to read. But the words swam on the page, unreadable.
She was the one that was fucked, wasn’t she?
When it was time to go, she calmly packed the car, ready for something else. What, she didn’t know.
On the way home, she pretended to be asleep.
22
“What do you want if I order pizza?”
Callum looked over at Vi. They were back at his place, and she was keeping her stuff in her room, but sharing his bed every night. Things looked like they were back to normal, which was how things would appear if the Valettis were about to order a hit.
So yeah, Callum was nervous. He looked up from the couch, his gaze moving from the ceiling to floor window, and back to the newspaper he held.
“Whatever you want. I’m staying in tonight, though.”
She paused, standing in the kitchen, clearly taken aback. “Yeah?”
“Yep. It’s supposed to rain tonight,” he said, like that was some kind of excuse. He worked every day, rain in, rain out.
The worst part was, he knew that she knew he was full of shit. She just didn’t ask too many questions about the nature of his work, especially not since Tybee Island.
“Okay,” she said, turning away. “I’ll order enough for the guy working the door, yes?”
She was talking about their security guard, Jay. She must’ve noticed when he was gone, because he sure as hell wasn’t letting her out to talk to strange men.
“Sure.”
It had been a week since they’d gone to Tybee Island, a week since he had found out about Capistrano. A week that he’d been anxiously awaiting word from his guy inside the Valetti family confirming that the Valettis had put a hit on Viola.
A week without sleep, mostly.
Callum heard a knock on the door. He looked at his watch. Almost eight on a weeknight.
He went the door, expecting Jay. But it wasn’t, it was Fallon.
Shit. Shit, shit! What had he done?
He checked the room, realized Viola had gone to make her phone call in private. He opened the door to let Fallon in. The older man wore a gray suit, not unlike Callum; it was a bit like looking in a mirror that showed you the future.
“I heard you’re not working tonight,” Fallon said by way of introduction. “Must be nice.”
“Fallon, what are you doing here?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.
“Oh, just checking up on you. Sweet son of the praised father, and all.” He smiled, and sat down on Callum’s couch, making himself comfortable. “Where are your manners? Offer me a drink.”
Callum was on edge, but he walked into the kitchen.
&nbs
p; “Would you like a drink?” he asked, keeping his tone formal.
His uncle grinned. “No. I heard your girl is something to look at, though.”
Callum froze at the mention of Viola. Who’d been talking about her?
He turned. “What are you here for, Fallon?”
“I came to see your girl,” Fallon said, leaning forward. “Ah, there she is.”
Viola came in, looking at Fallon with evident confusion. “Guests, Callum?”
Callum couldn’t think of anything to say. How do I introduce my partially insane uncle?
Turned out, he didn’t have to because Fallon introduced himself. Fallon stood, taking her offered hand in sweeping kiss.
“I am Fallon, the handsomer version of your beau,” he said.
She flushed, no doubt because of the beau part. Callum’s fists tightened, but he didn’t say anything. What could he say? That he was most certainly not her beau?
That would be the end of things between her and Callum, and he wasn’t ready for that.
“Viola,” she said politely.
Callum could see her trying to shake his uncle off. He had to step in.
“Fallon—”
“Viola Valetti, am I right?” Fallon asked, all smiles.
“What? No,” he told his uncle.
Callum turned to Viola, who had gone ashen.
“Who are you?” she asked Fallon, her voice soft but audible.
“Viola, tell him who you really are,” Callum said, growing angry.
She and Fallon were sizing one another up, trying to figure out how to defeat one another.
“God, this is good,” Fallon said, turning his attention to Callum. “You have a gold mine sitting right in front of you, and you don’t even know. What a life you got, kid. Even the chicks you bang end up being from a golden goose.”
Callum lost control of himself then, hauling off and punching his uncle in the face. Fallon looked back at Callum, tasting his own blood from where it rolled down his lip, dripping.
Fallon laughed, looking at both of them. Viola was trying really hard not to cry. Fallon stood, preparing to leave.
“You know what? It’s okay. Because when we turn her over to the Valettis, they’re gonna owe us, big time. A lot of dough. And it’s gonna clear whatever you did to get yourself shot at in the first place. The Valettis promised me the lives of all you Black Saints, in exchange for her. So I don’t even care that you just punched me over some stupid bitch, when she’s gonna be a windfall soon enough.”’
Viola was deadly pale, shaking.
“Get. Out.” Callum bit the words off, thinking it was impossible to hate Fallon any more than he did.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Fallon said. “Don’t worry, Viola. I’ll give your love to your father.”
Callum barely saw her move, just saw a blur and then bright red erupt across Fallon’s face. She’d slapped him.
“You little—” Fallon started, but Callum grabbed him by the lapels and forced him from the apartment.
“Don’t fucking come back,” he warned as he shut the door in Fallon’s face.
Door closed, Callum paused. When he turned around, he was going to face Viola… and no matter what Fallon had said, he’d definitely raised some serious questions.
Callum turned to Viola, his face carefully blank.
He saw the tear snaking down the side of her face, but he could not be swayed. Would not be swayed.
“Is it true?” he asked.
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes never quite so blue. She slowly nodded.
“Two weeks!” he snapped, startling her. “Two weeks it’s been since I told you who my father was. And nothing from you.”
“Y-you don’t understand,” she said, her voice so low he could barely hear it. “There’s a reason.”
“Yeah? A good reason you’d lie to me, right to my face?”
“My father is poison,” she spat. “He killed my fiancé because he planned to marry me to one of his friends!”
That stopped him cold. “Fiancé?”
“It was three years ago.”
She interpreted the tone of his question as jealousy. In reality, he was struggling to keep from flying into a rage, and he had no idea why. After all, she was just a chick that he banged sometimes.
So why the fury?
“That’s a hell of a lot about yourself to hold back. Your father, your fiancé… what else don’t I know about you?”
She was silent for a moment, perhaps unsure how to answer. He would be unsure too, in her position.
“Callum…” she tried, but he cut her off.
“This is a lot to take in,” he said. “I’m going out for a drive.”
“Callum, please—” she tried again.
He just shook his head and grabbed his jacket, heading out the door. Thinking for a second, he slid the prisoner lock home, ensuring that she’d be inside when he got back.
He stormed past Jay, not ready to hear excuses as to why he’d let anyone that close to the apartment. Jumping in his SUV, he peeled out of the parking deck, heading into the night.
Where did you go when you were shaking with anger, and you weren’t sure why?
23
“Are you the birthday boy?” husked a brunette wearing barely-there panties and not a lot else. “I’m a surprise for the man of the hour.”
She leaned over Callum’s lap, pressing her enormous silicone breasts close to his face, beaming.
Callum looked around Savannah’s finest strip club for Cormac, who was surely behind this ploy. Cormac was leaning against the bar, innocently chatting up some very hot strippers. With the looks on their faces, he could very well bet whose bed Cor would be slipping out of in the morning.
He sighed and turned back to the girl practically prostrating herself in front of Callum.
“Tell you what. Come back if I’m still here in an hour,” he said, stuffing a twenty dollar bill in her G-string.
“Okay,” she simpered, retreating. Her ass bounced and jiggled as she left, but Callum couldn’t even get excited about it.
“Seriously?” said Declan, watching her ass as she walked away. “Damn, dude.”
“Strippers don’t really do anything for me.”
“Anymore, you must mean. Because I seem to remember a stripper named Brandi that rocked your world. You actually slept with her more than once.”
Callum frowned at Declan. Up on stage, a new dancer came up, grinding against the pole.
“These girls just seem fake, that’s all.”
Declan rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. “They’re fake in comparison with Viola, you mean.”
“Fake in comparison with anybody.”
Callum was tired of the talk about Viola, even though that was what he’d sought out Declan’s company for. Of course Cormac was euphoric upon hearing of Callum’s plight. He’d suggested the location for their meetup.
“Callum, you care for Viola. Obviously, since you’ve tolerated her presence for a month.”
Callum’s jaw tightened, and he glanced away.
“She’s a liar.”
“So? That’s practically on your dating checklist. You don’t want the girl you’re seeing to tell the first police officer she sees that you’re with the Cúram.”
Callum glanced at Declan. “I also want her to be honest with me.”
“So, she didn’t tell you some stuff about herself.”
“Like the fact that she had a fucking fiancé.”
Declan was quiet for a minute. “She said her fiancé was dead.”
“Yeah, she did. How am I supposed to know what he was like?”
“You mean figure out if you two are the same??” Declan said. “And what would you do if you weren’t?”
“Damn you, Declan.”
“Don’t damn me. I’m just saying, you didn’t even get the whole story. Maybe she’s attracted to something different in you.”
Callum raised his hand
to the waitress, who rushed over with two more shots of whisky. He pushed one to Declan without a word, and they both drank. Silence reigned for a full minute.
“Do you think you can get yourself drunk enough to fuck one of them?” Declan asked, nodding to one of the strippers.
Callum shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe you don’t want to.”
“This was a bad idea, coming here.” Callum pushed himself to his feet, a little unsteady.
“Shit. You’re drunk.”
“Am not.” Callum scowled.
“You are. Stay at my house tonight.”
“I’m not staying at your house. Let me go.” Callum started toward the door, only to find himself on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“That would’ve hurt if you weren’t drunk,” Declan said. “Now give me your keys, and I’ll drive you home. I’ve had half as much to drink as you.”
Rolling his eyes, Callum handed over his keys. In return, he got a hand up off the ground.
“I’ll kick your ass if you ever try that again,” he growled at Declan.
“You’re welcome to try.”
They left, Callum feeling out of sorts in his own passenger seat. By the time he got himself upstairs and got the door unlocked, the apartment was quiet. Moonlight cast a pallor over everything.
Viola sat at the kitchen counter, looking surprised when he came in. She stayed still, like a bird trying not to attract the notice of a predator.
“Look who’s still here,” he said, dropping in the seat next to her.
Her nose wrinkled. “You reek of whisky.”
“Hmm. I went drinking with Declan and Cormac. We hashed out some issues.”
She turned to look at him. If only she wasn’t quite so beautiful right now, with her pouty lower lip and her sparkling blue eyes. His eyes drifted down to the curves he could just barely make out in her pajamas, longing for more.
“Callum, you know me,” she said softly. “You know I don’t do things senselessly. If I say I ran for a reason, you can bet it’s good.”
Callum laughed. “Good enough to get the Black Saints shot? Because that’s gonna happen if I don’t turn you in.”
“There was already a hit on you when I met you,” she said, agitated.
“Yeah? Well, now they’re gonna double down on it. If they wanted me before, how much more do you think they’re gonna want Valetti’s daughter back?”
