I couldn’t understand my fascination with Caleb Cortano. Even if he’d been closer to my age and not in such an incredibly vulnerable state, he still wasn’t my type. I preferred men who matched me in size, strength and demeanor. It made things more interesting in the bedroom.
I would have liked to say my feelings for Caleb stemmed from my inherent need to protect someone weaker than me, but I knew it was more than that. First off, Caleb was just beautiful. There was nogetting around that. Even though he’d lost a lot of weight in the last year and his clear skin was paler than it should be, I still found myself fighting my body’s natural impulses whenever I was around him. It had taken every ounce of willpower I’d had the previous night to keep my cock from making its excitement known as Caleb had wedged his ass back against my groin. Fortunately, exhaustion had once again played in my favor.
Of course, it had also fucked me over by letting me sleep through Caleb sneaking out on me.
I bit back my anger and dismissed the messages from Mav and Memphis. I pulled up the tracking app as I snatched my keys off the nightstand. At least Caleb hadn’t taken my car. Of course, that just had me wondering how the hell he’d managed to leave the motel, because the tracking app was showing he was just outside of D.C.
I tried to maintain my cool as I broke multiple traffic laws in an effort to get back to D.C. Over the few hours it took to make my way back to the city, I monitored Caleb’s position. From what I could tell, whatever method of transportation he’d used, he’d had it drop him off at a house in Bethesda, Maryland. The D.C. suburb was one of the wealthier ones in the area, but I had no clue what Caleb would be doing there, since his family’s home had been in Alexandria, Virginia, which was a good thirty minutes away.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I navigated my way through early morning traffic. Luckily, it was a Saturday, so the traffic wasn’t as bad as it could have been. As much as I would have liked to have been comforted by the fact that Caleb’s position hadn’t changed, it actually made me more nervous.
As I made my way down the quiet, tree-lined street, my instincts that something was off kicked in and I parked my car around the block from the location Caleb’s tracker was pinging on. As I got out of my car, I grabbed the fake license plates I often kept handy when I was working a job and quickly covered the existing plates with them. If anyone looked really close, they’d notice how I’d jimmied the fake plates to slide over the top of the legitimate ones, but I was counting on the fact that most people wouldn’t be looking at my nondescript car that intently.
The houses in the area sat on large lots, which meant there wasn’t a lot of traffic, either of the foot or car variety. Something that would work in my favor. What wouldn’t work in my favor was the long jacket I was wearing. It was unseasonably warm for late spring, so the jacket wasn’t necessary to protect against the weather.
But it was very necessary to hide the gun at my back.
As I rounded the corner of the street Caleb was on, I expected that I’d either have to knock on the door of the house he was at or find a spot and wait for him to come out, but that wasn’t the case.
At all.
No, in fact, Caleb was standing right out in the open, completely impossible to miss.
Because not only was he standing on the walkway leading up to the house, he had a gun in his hand that was pointed at a man standing less than a dozen feet from him.
What the hell?
“Please,” the man called faintly as he used the briefcase he was holding to shield his chest.
Caleb didn’t speak or move. He had the hood of his jacket up over his head, but I knew it was him. I quickened my step as I took in our surroundings. I saw a woman with a little dog rush around the opposite corner, her phone at her ear. She kept looking over her shoulder as she ran. I had no doubt who she was on the phone with.
Which meant I had a minute, two at the most, to diffuse the situation and get Caleb out of there before the cops arrived.
My adrenaline was firing through my blood as I neared Caleb, and it took everything in me not to call his name.
“Please!” the man whispered fiercely. When Caleb didn’t respond to him, just held the gun on him, the man shouted, “I can’t help you!”
I was close enough to see that Caleb’s arm was shaking. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to because everything I couldn’t see, I heard in his voice as he softly said, “You promised.”
He didn’t yell the words, didn’t cry as he said them. His tone had the same bleakness I’d heard the night before, and that scared me more than anything.
The man shook his head, then said, “I’m sorry, Caleb. I just… I can’t.”
He shook his head again, as if that was somehow answer enough. The fact that he knew Caleb just added another layer ofthis-is-fucked-upto the entire situation. But of course, things were only getting started because not three seconds later, the front door opened and a kid came running out. A boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old.
“Dad!” he shouted.
“Ricky, get back inside!” the man yelled, but the kid ignored him and ran right up to him. He threw his arms around his father, who immediately tried to shield the boy from the gun being aimed at him.
“Go back inside!” the man ordered.
“No!” Ricky yelled. “Get away from us!” he cried, his terror-filled eyes on Caleb as he clung to his father. “Leave my dad alone!”
Caleb faltered at the sight of the kid and lowered his arm slightly. I was about to call out to him, when the sharp sound of squealing tires pierced the air. I was moving before the police car rounded the opposite corner, its lights flashing but its siren silent. I was just feet from Caleb when the car came to a screeching halt and a cop jumped from the passenger side.
“Drop it!” he yelled.
Several things happened in the space of the few seconds that followed.
