“You’ve got the wrong place,” I said, keeping my tone neutral while rage coiled tight in my chest.
“I believe there’s been some misunderstanding,” the voice continued, unruffled.“I represent Chief Robert Davis, who is quite concerned about his niece’s welfare.She left treatment against medical advice and may be in danger.The family simply wants to ensure her safety.”
Each lie delivered with practiced sincerity, each word causing Callie to shrink further into herself.I watched her backing away until she hit the wall, pressed against it as if trying to disappear into the wood grain.
“Like I said,” I repeated, gaze locked on hers.Niece?Yeah, right.But if a lawyer was calling, then they had most likely fabricated documentation.“No one by that name here.Don’t call again.”
“I should clarify,” the voice continued, a new edge beneath the professional veneer.“Harboring a mentally disturbed individual who has fled treatment could result in legal complications.Chief Davis would prefer to resolve this quietly, for everyone’s benefit.”
Callie shook her head violently, mouthing “No” over and over.I’d seen the look before -- in trapped animals, in brothers backed into corners with no way out.Pure desperation.
“Understand this,” I said, each word precise and measured.“There’s no one here for you to speak with.Any further contact will be considered harassment.We clear?”
A pause, then: “Crystal clear, Mr.Harker.But this conversation isn’t over.”
The line went dead.Callie slid down the wall until she sat on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them like she was trying to hold herself together physically.
I moved to the phone again, dialing Beast’s direct line.He answered on the second ring.
“They have my landline number,” I said without preamble.“Lawyer just called asking for her by name.”
Beast cursed softly.“How deep are this bastard’s connections?”
“Deep enough to find a number not listed in any public record,” I replied.“We need to assume all our lines are compromised.”
“Agreed.Switch to burners only, starting now.”Beast’s voice dropped lower.“How’s she holding up?”
I glanced at Callie, still huddled against the wall, gaze fixed on some middle distance.“Scared.Was packing to run when I got back.”
“Keep her close,” Beast ordered, though he didn’t need to.“We’ll handle the rest.”
After hanging up, I crossed the room and lowered myself to the floor beside Callie, back against the same wall.Not touching, just present.For long minutes, neither of us spoke.
“He always finds me,” she whispered finally.“Isn’t there anywhere that’s safe and out of his reach?”
“No,” I corrected gently.“He found my phone number.Not the same thing.”
She turned to look at me, eyes red-rimmed but dry.Beyond fear now, into something harder, more resolute.“What happens next?”
Instead of answering, I reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.When she didn’t, I drew her against my chest, one hand protective at the back of her head while my gaze remained fixed on the window, watching for movement beyond the glass.
“We stay together,” I said simply.“And we make him regret ever hunting you.”
She didn’t reply, but I felt her exhale against my chest, her body gradually relaxing into mine.Outside, shadows lengthened as morning gave way to afternoon.Somewhere beyond our walls, a predator circled, seeking weakness, opportunity.But here, in this moment, with her heart beating steadily against mine, one thing became perfectly clear.
I’d claimed her.And whatever came through the door would have to go through me first.
Chapter Six
Samson
I woke before dawn, the habit of years refusing to break even with a woman in my bed.Gray light seeped through the cabin windows, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards.Callie slept soundly, her breathing deep and even, one hand curled beneath her chin like a child.
I rose quietly and crossed to the river-stone fireplace, adding fresh wood to the fading embers.Morning air carried a chill -- wrong for summer, or maybe the cold came from knowing a man with a badge and borrowed authority was out there hunting for her.Bare feet silent on the floor, I moved into the kitchen and started coffee on instinct.
The routine steadied me while my thoughts circled back to yesterday.The letter.The phone call.Her attempt to leave, convinced sacrificing herself would spare me the fallout.As if fifteen years with the Kings hadn’t already taught me how to stand in a storm.
A soft sound from the bed pulled my attention back.Callie shifted, eyelids fluttering as color returned to her cheeks.The cut at her temple looked cleaner, calmer, healing without signs of infection.Lyssa’s work and the antibiotics were doing their job.Zip tie marks around her wrists would take longer to fade, both the visible wounds and whatever damage lived beneath the skin.
