Page 136 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

Garrett tries anyway. “You can't keep him from me. There are legal processes—”

“There are,” Callie says, looking over Theo’s shoulder. “You falsified them.”

Sirens rise beyond the rear fence before Garrett can answer. The sound grows quickly, joined by tires on the drive and voices approaching the broken service entrance.

Two officers enter first with their weapons drawn. I keep one hand locked around Garrett’s wrist and lift the other where theycan see it, explaining that he is pinned beneath me and that no weapon has been found.

They separate us without unnecessary force. One officer takes control of Garrett’s wrists and places him in cuffs while another checks the room, the shattered door, and the blood on Callie’s hand.

Garrett begins speaking the moment they lift him from the floor. He claims he entered under lawful authority, that Theo is endangered, and that Callie has manipulated a vulnerable Omega into violating an active order.

Callie keeps one arm around Theo while Idris holds them both. Her voice remains quiet when she addresses the officer nearest her.

“The order expired, and a full order was never entered. My attorney provided that confirmation after he tried to use the same papers on campus.”

The officer looks toward the documents scattered near Garrett’s coat. “Your attorney’s name?”

“Zana.” Callie gives him the number from memory, then points toward my phone on the hall floor. “The exterior cameras recorded him destroying the rear feed before he forced the door. The secondary camera uploads separately.”

I retrieve the phone when the officer allows it and open the saved clip. Garrett appears on-screen approaching from the trees, covering the first camera, and striking the service door until the frame gives way around the reinforced lock.

Kade calls before the officer finishes watching. I put him on speaker long enough for him to confirm the preserved feed and the digital evidence already submitted in the active investigation.

Garrett’s face changes again when Kade identifies the case number. The last of his confidence gives way to something harsher and less controlled.

“They belong to my pack,” Garrett says as the officer turns him toward the door. “This was handled internally before Calliope interfered.”

Theo makes a faint, broken sound against Callie’s shoulder. She tightens her hold on him and looks at Garrett without moving away from Idris.

“You don't speak for any of us.”

The officer guides Garrett through the damaged doorway while another begins photographing the room. Sloane follows far enough to watch Garrett placed in the patrol car, but he stays inside when Callie reaches back and catches his hand. Idris comes up behind him once the car door closes, wrapping one arm across Sloane’s chest and pulling him firmly against his body.

Sloane turns inside the hold and catches Idris' face in both blood-marked hands. Their kiss is rough at first, driven by the terror still shaking through the bonds, but Idris keeps one hand at Sloane’s nape until it slows. Sloane folds into him when their mouths part, pressing his face into Idris' neck while Idris holds him and keeps his other arm extended toward Theo and Callie.

I leave them together long enough to find the first-aid kit beneath the bathroom sink. When I return, Idris' hand is still spread over Sloane’s back, and Sloane is steady enough to crouch beside Callie without looking as though he might follow the patrol car and tear Garrett out of it.

I kneel in front of her and take her injured hand. Her knuckles are swollen but intact. I clean the blood from them carefully while she watches Garrett’s patrol car through the damaged doorway.

Sloane presses his mouth to her temple as Theo remains tucked against her other side, silent but no longer shaking as hard, while Idris speaks with the officer taking statements.

Callie looks down when I wrap the gauze around her hand. Her eyes are red, and fear still lingers in the tightness of her face, but she stayed standing through every lie Garrett tried to carry into this house.

I lift her bandaged hand and kiss her fingers. She bends toward me, resting her forehead against mine while Sloane keeps one hand against her back and Theo holds the other.

Outside, the patrol car pulls away with Garrett inside it.

Calliope

Six days after Garrett breaks into the house, Theo still looks toward every doorway before he settles.

He does it when we eat breakfast, his eyes moving from the hall to the rear windows before he takes the chair between Idris and me. He does it in the living room while Sloane rubs his feet, and again when Dash crosses into his office to answer a call. The new cameras cover every entrance, the service door has been replaced, and Garrett remains in custody, but Theo keeps count of us until he knows no one has disappeared.

His voice has gone quiet again. The only thing Theo has asked for more than once is Sloane’s permanent mark. Sloane has kissed the place Theo wants him to bite each time and told him they will choose it when Theo wants the bond more than he wants relief from being afraid.

Some mornings, he speaks only when one of us asks a direct question, and even then his answers come in a few soft words before he presses closer to whoever is holding him. No one asks him to explain the silence or prove that he is improving.

Today, he sits on the floor between Sloane’s legs while Sloane combs his fingers through his hair. Idris occupies the end of the couch with a tablet balanced on one knee, reading the latest security report without hiding it from anyone. Dash is at the dining table repairing the hinge on one of Theo’s wooden nest boxes, and I am curled in the corner of the couch with my feet tucked beneath Idris' thigh.