The window’s cracked just enough to hear him when he turns to face them.
"She’s mine to take care of now. Don’t reach out to her for anything. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll let you know. But I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one."
I hear my brother shift, feet clomping down the steps of the home we grew up in.
Callum doesn’t hesitate to level Adam with just one look when he tells him, "Come down here and I’ll fucking murder you in front of your parents. And if you show your face at Castlebrook again, you’ll regret it."
He rounds the front of the truck and slides into the driver’s seat.
My pulse is still hammering, but when he holds out his hand, I grab it like it’s the only steady thing in the world.
Because to me it is.
The drive back to Castlebrook is quiet. Not in a peaceful way. More like the calm after a bomb goes off. The kind where you’re waiting for smoke to clear and praying there’s something left to salvage.
Callum’s jaw is locked, tension rippling through him like a current he’s not even aware of. His fingers grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from turning around and finishing what he started at my parents’ house.
I want to tell him I’m sorry. That I hate dragging him into all this. That if I could rewrite the past, I would’ve never let him get pulled into my family’s mess. I also know that if I had to go through that argument without him standing beside me, I would’ve drowned. With my parents against me, and my brotherapparently selling me off to pay his debts, I don’t think I could’ve survived it alone.
Not to mention the murders on campus. I don’t know how I would have survived the night at the mansion without him. The higher ups at Castlebrook can pretend it’s not a big deal, but it is. Girls, and one guy, are being killed. On campus. Some in daylight, some right under our noses. I wasn’t close to Lexi by any means, but I still see her slashed throat and blood-covered body if I let my mind wander.
I can’t focus on that now. I know Callum has people looking into it, and I know he would only trust the best people that can get him answers. Despite everything, I feel... lucky. Not because of the fake engagement. Not even because of the sex.
Because it’s him.
He let me touch his scars. He let me kiss the one on his neck, and I swear it changed something in me. Made something settle deep inside my bones. I still feel the ache in my chest, knowing someone had ever tried to hurt him.
If his father had succeeded, if Callum wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have grown up with him. I wouldn’t have this now. This strange, fierce connection that feels like it’s been waiting for years to finally come alive.
I think I’ve always loved Callum Grey, and I’ve beeninlove with him for a long time too.
Callum brings me out of my thoughts with a quick glance in my direction. "While we were at your parents," he says, "I had someone move your stuff into my room."
I blink at him. "You did what?"
He grins like he’s already won. "Don’t pretend you’re shocked. This is a very me thing to do. I want you with me. And I need to protect you. So I don’t wanna argue about it."
I flip him off, middle finger up and proud because that’s a verymething to do.
He just laughs. "Not while I’m driving, baby. Definitely tonight. I’m already having withdrawals."
I groan, not even arguing with him that I didn’t mean ‘fuck you’ literally, because he already knows that. "Well, it feels like someone parked a train in my vagina, so I’m great with waiting." Callum wasn’t even rough with me by any means, but my entire body feels like it was dragged by that train before it parked.
He cackles so hard it makes me laugh, too.
Just like that, the heaviness in my chest eases. That’s the effect Callum has on me. He can make anything better without even trying.
By the time we pull into the drive, it’s late and I’m wrecked. Not just from the fight with my parents, but from Callum, too. My body is aching in places I didn’t even know had muscles. The hot shower I took while Callum was talking to my brother did nothing to help. I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will do the trick.
We slip inside quietly without discussing it first. Mostly we don’t want to wake Hayden because he’s a menace when his sleep is disrupted. I like that part of this little group enough to know that. As we make our way past the formal sitting room, I see Winter is curled up on the couch she and Tristan always read on. Her long, dark braid spills over the armrest, and I can’t help but smile at the pink bow that secures the end. Her lips are parted in sleep, and it dawns on me that it’s weird seeing her by herself. I can’t even think of times I’ve actually seen her without Tristan looming nearby. She looks peaceful though, with an open book resting on her chest. She must have fallen asleep reading to Tristan.
I didn’t see him at first, but his slight movement takes my attention away from her. Tristan, my God. He’s sitting in the corner in complete silence, no book, no phone, nothing. Just... watching her. Like she’s the only thing he sees in this world.
Callum grabs my hand, pulling me toward the stairs. He leans down and murmurs, "He records her breathing while she sleeps so he can listen to it at night."
My eyes go wide. "You’re joking."
"It’s not as weird as it sounds," he says, linking his fingers with mine. "He has night terrors. Her breathing calms him down, I guess."
