Page 62 of Colton’s Mate

That wasn’t who he wanted to be.

The only bright spot was that the Corsairs had apparently decided that Callie really didn’t have their magical doohickey, and had given up harassing her.

Colt and Remy had done some online checking on the drawing he’d found in Tex’s things, but hadn’t found much. And there really hadn’t seemed to be any point in following up, once the crows decided to leave Callie alone.

He just wished the solutions to all their other problems were that easy.

Callie was alone on a Sunday afternoon, flipping channels between a baking show and a figure skating competition, enjoying having her TV all to herself.

Colt had been over the night before but she’d sent him home about three, because she knew he missed having Sunday breakfast with his crew. It was their special bonding time.

Then he and Brandon were going to the building supply store to get more stuff for the mansion. Colt had been spending so much time working with her on her project, she didn’t want him to neglect the renovation.

She couldn’t even go over there anymore, because her being there wreaked havoc with the crew. When she’d decided Bad Callie was going to make waves, she hadn’t been planning on this.

This was the downside of being a troublemaker—and she wasn’t even having any fun doing it. She just felt like shit.

She knew she and Colt couldn’t go on this way. He needed his crew, and he needed Remy. If she couldn’t be around either of them, their relationship was doomed.

And more and more, she couldn’t imagine her life without Colt. His smile, his touch, his crazy humor. She loved working with him on the bar. He’d never tried to take over the way she thought he might, just listened to her ideas and put together plans to make them happen.

If what she wanted wasn’t going to work, he explained why without making her feel stupid, and came up with alternatives.

If it were just her and Colt, everything would be perfect. But it wasn’t just the two of them. It never could be.

Her phone beeped with a text. She picked it up, hoping it was from Colt, but it wasn’t.

It was from Jason, of all people.

She almost ignored it. She really didn’t want to deal with Jason today. But then guilt got to her, as well as curiosity, and she swiped on the message.

I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the Crows’ Nest?

Huh. Why the construction site? Neutral ground?

Just as well. She wasn’t comfortable with him coming to her place. Jason was a good guy, but he was still a crow, and crow men were raised entitled. Inviting over a pissed-off, resentful crow man when you were alone in the house was a bad plan.

But she obviously couldn’t go to Wild Blood territory, so the construction site was probably as good a place as any—assuming she wanted to talk to him at all.

She texted back: What do you want to talk about?

There was a long pause, and then he texted back a photo. It was the tattoo pattern that she and Colt had found in Tex’s things. The one he’d had done on his shoulder.

Of all the things she’d thought Jason might want to talk to her about, this was not even on the list.

She texted back: Why?

And then: How did you even get that?

Last she’d seen it, Colt had it. And Colt and Jason talked as little as possible.

He replied: Too complicated to explain. I need to see you.

Please.

Callie bit her lip, thinking. She really didn’t think she was in any danger from Jason. But maybe he knew what the Corsairs had been looking for from her. She’d never thought to ask him about it—he was a Talon, not a Corsair, and not someone Kirk or Tex would have confided in even if they had the sacred thingy, whatever it was.

Maybe Colt had shown him the drawing?