Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

C allie glanced in her rearview mirror. Her father only lived five minutes away, but right now it felt longer. Maybe because she was so on edge. Had been on edge for days.

Dead. Lucian was dead. Because someone had murdered him.

It didn’t feel real.

Lock was supposed to come with her to see her dad, but he’d been called out on a last-minute job. He’d wanted her to wait, but she’d said no. Why, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Because she didn’t want to hide? Because she didn’t want this person to scare her or impede her life?

Christ, she just wanted Eastern to find the guy and be done with it.

This is why she needed to see her dad. He was her calm. He’d always been her calm.

She frowned at the gray BMW in the rearview mirror. Had they been there since she’d turned off her street? Or was she just being paranoid because of everything that was happening?

Instead of taking the next left like she was supposed to, she continued straight, turning right when she reached the end of the road. The car turned right with her.

Her pulse picked up speed as her breathing came out a bit shorter. She took another right, watching the road behind her more than the road in front.

But this time, the car continued straight.

The air whooshed from her chest.

Good God, Callie. Get a grip. The whole world is not out to get you.

She turned around and headed back to her father’s house. When she arrived, she took a moment to deeply exhale before getting out of the car. She didn’t want her dad to see her so on edge. She’d already caused him enough stress with the notes and the guy in her backyard—he didn’t need this too.

After picking up the tray of cannelloni from the passenger seat, she climbed out and headed for the front door. Instead of knocking, she used her spare key to enter the house. She’d just stepped inside when she heard a crash from the kitchen.

Her heart shot into her throat, and she ran toward the noise. “Dad?”

She stopped inside the kitchen, breath catching at the sight of him pushing up from the floor behind the island.

“Dad! Oh God, are you okay?” She set the tray on the counter and helped him up.

“I’m okay.”

He was out of breath, pale, and didn’t sound like himself.

“What happened?” she asked.

Once he was on his feet, she helped him over to a stool.

“I just tried to move too fast and fell.”

Muscle stiffness. Impaired balance. Loss of automatic movements. All symptoms of Parkinson’s disease.

“I’ll get you some water,” she said once he was seated. She turned toward the fridge and grabbed a bottle, using the moment away from her dad to pull herself together. His diagnosis wasn’t about her. He needed her to be strong.

Once the lid was uncapped, she turned and set it in front of him. There was a tremor in his hand as he lifted it. Her father looked into her eyes once the bottle was down…like, really looked at her.

“It’s okay to not be okay with what’s happening to me, Callie.”

She blew out a long sigh of air. “I want to be okay for you.”

“I know you do, honey. But I’ve accepted my diagnosis. And I’m choosing to focus on the good. You’re my good. The years I’ve had with you. The years that are still to come.”

She slipped her hand into his. “You’re my only family.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to be true for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“ Lock is your family too. And his family will become your family. And you’ll eventually start one of your own.”

A family of her own…maybe with babies. She swallowed the lump in her throat, because the idea scared the crap out of her. “We’ve just started dating again. I’m trying not to look too far into the future.”

“That’s fair enough, but I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t shy away from building a life after your loss.”

Her heartbeat did one of those little stumbles. That was her dad…always seeing her fears even when she hadn’t voiced them. “I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s all we can do. And just so you know, you are the best thing that I ever did. So I’m all for creating family.”

“And you’re the best thing to happen to me.” She wrapped her arms around her father’s shoulders. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, honey.”

She stayed for an hour. Talking to her dad. Being told off for attempting to cook and clean.

When it was time to go, it was too soon. But she had to make a quick stop at the studio to pick up her laptop to do some admin, and she’d promised Lock she’d be home before dark. If she was going to keep that promise, she had to leave now.

On the way to the studio, she checked her rearview mirror a million and one times, but there was never anyone there.

Yeah, because no one was following her, and no one had been following her. She was just losing her mind.

She’d just climbed out of her car in front of the studio when her phone rang. Lock. “Hey.”

“Are you almost home?”

“I just pulled up at the studio. I’ll grab my laptop and come home.”

“Callie, I told you I’d pick up what you need if you left your dad’s too late.”

“It’s not late.” She jogged across the street and took out her key. “I’ll be home in two seconds. I just need—”

Something shoved her into the studio door, and she cried out in shock and pain. The phone fell from her fingers, the hard body behind her close. Way too close.

“It was one of your friends, wasn’t it?” a male voice snarled.

She tried to breathe, but fear tightened her throat. “What?”

He yanked her head back, then slammed it against the glass. Pain whipped through her.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he shouted. “Your friends killed my brother!”

Callie’s cry made shock waves of fear rush Lock’s body. “Callie?”

The hum of a male voice sounded, but it was distant, and he couldn’t make out a single word.

Fuck!

Blood roared in Lock’s ears as he pulled out of his driveway. The tires squealed against the asphalt, and he pressed his foot to the floor.

He sent a quick message to Jesse and Antwan, asking them to get to the studio. Maybe they were closer.

The second he’d seen her car missing, he’d gotten this pit in his gut.

Why had he agreed to take that last job? He should have gone to her father’s with her. He should have been by her damn side!

He took a hard right, the tires screaming a second time.

He’d been going to say no, but it had been a single mother who’d called needing her front door fixed. He hadn’t wanted her and her child to sleep through the night with a broken door.

Using the Bluetooth on his phone, he called Eastern.

“Lock—”

“Get to Callie’s studio! Now .”

Air rushed over the line. “What happened?”

“Someone attacked her.”

He hung up as he turned onto the street of her studio, pushing his truck to move faster. Then he saw them. A man pressing Callie against the studio door, his hand on the back of her head, his body against hers, trapping her.

Fury pummeled his limbs, blinding him. Consuming him.

He slammed his foot onto the brake and jumped out of the truck, leaving it on the street as he sprinted toward them. Another car jerked to a stop behind him, but he ignored it as he gripped the attacker by the back of the shirt and pulled him off Callie. Lock punched him, his fist slamming so hard into the asshole’s cheek that he dropped straight to the ground.

Immediately, he lifted the guy back up and slammed him into the glass. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He groaned, head lolling to the side.

“Answer me!” Lock shouted.

Muffled voices sounded behind him. He turned to see Antwan kneeling in front of Callie, checking her face. Her bruised face.

Lock saw red.

He punched the guy a second time, not caring that he should calm the fuck down and step back. He kept a hold of the asshole’s shirt as he got really fucking close to his face. “I said, what are you doing ?”

More cars pulled up on the street. He turned to see his brother getting out of one of them, deputies climbing out of the other.

Eastern rushed over and stopped beside Lock, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Release him.”

Lock’s chest rose and fell, his fingers remaining tight on the guy’s shirt. He should let him go. His nose was clearly broken, there was blood all over, and he wasn’t going anywhere, not with Eastern and his deputies there.

But he was so fucking angry that he couldn’t untangle his fingers.

“Lock,” Eastern said firmly, “Callie needs you.”

Callie…

He stepped back, fingers unclenching, and Eastern swooped in to cuff the guy.

Lock dropped beside Callie, on the other side of Antwan. Her skin was too pale, and the fucking bruise on her head was already too dark.

He gently touched her chin, tilting her head up. He barely bit back the growl at the sight of her purple and red skin. He should have hit the asshole a third time. “What happened?”

“I don’t know where he came from. One minute I was on the phone with you, the next, he was shoving me against the door, saying that my friends killed his brother.”

Brother…? He looked up to see Eastern had already dragged the man to his patrol car.

Lucian’s brother, Oscar.

He looked back at Callie, forcing himself to stay calm as he studied her eyes, noticing there didn’t seem to be signs of a concussion. “You’re okay.”

It was like he needed to say it out loud to remind himself that it was true. That she was here. No one had taken her or seriously hurt her.

Her green eyes burned into him as she repeated, “I’m okay.”