Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

C allie threw back her shot, the cool liquid burning her throat. Her feet itched to move. Leave. Go somewhere safe and quiet and away from the man she’d loved for so long.

But another part of her, the part she kept buried deep inside, whispered to go to him, even if it was just to hear his voice.

She did neither. She just stood there, unable to move for fear she’d make the wrong decision.

“Every time I see him,” she said quietly, “I wish I could go back to before that week. I wish we could be what we were.”

So full of hope, with no painful past. She’d been pregnant. They’d talked about buying a house together. She’d had their entire future mapped out in her head.

But she couldn’t go back. That was something she’d learned the hard way. That in a split second, everything could change, and she’d be powerless to stop it.

Aspen tilted her head. “He was your first love.”

“Yep. He taught me what love feels like. Then he taught me what heartbreak feels like.” This time, she lifted her cocktail and took a huge gulp. The sweet liquid sat heavy in her belly.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Callie. You know that?”

She turned to her friend, a deep sadness inside her. “I don’t feel strong.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing about strength—it’s easier for others to see than for us to feel.”

Callie leaned her head on Aspen’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Most don’t.”

Despite everything, Callie laughed. “I still have to leave, you know.”

“Dance first.”

“Aspen—”

“Come on. One dance, then you can go home to your sweats and Bridgerton .”

“How did you know that’s what I wanted to do?”

Aspen rolled her eyes. “Hello, we live together and share the same Netflix account.”

“You’re a romance writer. Shouldn’t Bridgerton be your thing?”

“Nope. Not into the historical stuff.”

Callie was tempted to tell her that she didn’t watch Bridgeton for its historical accuracy, but Aspen grabbed her hand and pulled her toward where a small group of people were already dancing. And even though Lock was right there in the bar, walking distance away, her friend was right—the second she started dancing, she did feel better. But then, movement had always been her salvation. It was why she’d become a yoga and Pilates instructor.

The entire time she was on the dance floor, she felt him staring at her, like a hot beam searing into her. It just reminded her that time was running out. That sooner rather than later, she’d need to tell him what had happened and why the timing of him breaking up with her made everything so much worse.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been dancing, but she was finally closing her eyes and getting lost in the music when large warm hands touched her hips.

She froze. For a moment, she thought it was Lock. But then a body pressed against her, and it wasn’t his familiar scent around her or the hard ridges of his chest touching her back.

“Mm, you look hot when you move. Wanna dance?”

She turned to look up into a set of black eyes. “No thanks.” She tried to step away, but his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Not so fast.”

She pressed her hands to his chest. “Get your hands off me.”

He wasn’t put off by her words at all. In fact, he smiled, a lopsided grin that he probably thought was charming. It wasn’t. It was creepy and a bit slimy. “Come on. One dance. I promise I’ll let you go after that.”

He’d let her go?

She was about to push harder—but suddenly he was whipped off her, and before she could anticipate what was about to happen, Lock swung, nailing the guy in the face.

She gasped, jumping back, jaw dropping.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Lock yelled. The bar quieted around them as Lock stood over the guy, rage darkening his features. “She’s not yours to touch.”

“Lock?” Her voice was almost breathless with disbelief. “What are you doing?”

The guy on the floor groaned, rolling to his side and grabbing his cheek.

Lock looked at her, but she was already shaking her head, anger replacing the shock before she took off toward the exit.

“Callie!”

It was Aspen who called, but she didn’t stop or slow. She almost sprinted out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, toward her car. She was almost there when strong fingers gripped her arm, tugging her to a stop.

“Callie—”

She whipped around, ripping her arm out of Lock’s grasp. “What was that?”

“I was defending you.”

“I didn’t need defending. And I certainly didn’t need you to hit the guy! I’m capable of looking after myself.”

“The asshole pulled you against his chest. It didn’t take a genius to see you didn’t want to be there.”

“I had it handled. And even if I didn’t, I’m not yours to protect anymore.”

That familiar anger shaded his eyes again. “You’ll always be mine to protect.”

“Stop. Stop saying things like that. Stop looking at me like I’m yours. Just… stop !”

“You know I can’t do that.”

She shook her head, tears of anger and frustration and regret misting her eyes. “I left because of you , you know.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t even here.”

“You’ll always be here. Your presence. Your memory. You’re everywhere. But I also felt this crippling sadness, because you’re right—you weren’t here.”

He inched closer. “I am now.”

She touched his chest, stopping him from closing the last bit of distance. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she dashed it away. “I have to go.”

She turned and took a step.

“We were being targeted.”

She stopped, confusion swirling inside her as she turned back to him. “What?”

“We left one target alive after a mission. He was dangerous, and he learned who we were. He uncovered our identities.” Lock inched forward again. “He killed Antwan’s girlfriend and left a note, telling us her death was revenge for ending his organization.”

Her breath caught. “Hollie was killed?”

Callie didn’t know. When she’d disconnected her number, she’d cut contact with Lock’s entire team and their partners, despite considering all of them friends after a few trips to his base.

She’d always liked Hollie. She’d liked all of them.

“Winnie and Remi were next.”

She gasped, a chill sweeping over her skin. Lock’s teammate was murdered? And his girlfriend as well? “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you that day, because I was scared. You arrived seconds after I received the news about Winnie. I was a mess and I panicked. All I could think was, what if he’s watching right now? What if he has fucking cameras or someone watching down the street, and he could see you and me together? What if you’re next? I needed you as far away from me as possible. But it was never supposed to be permanent.”

Regret squeezed her heart. At the timing of everything. The way he’d needed her far away when she’d needed him close.

Lock touched her hips, his heat seeping through the material of her jeans. “We found the asshole responsible, and we eliminated him. We made sure he died for what he did to Winnie and the women. That was two weeks later, and it took me another week to get home. But when I called you, I couldn’t get through. And when I returned to town, you were gone, and no one would tell me where. I had no way to get in contact with you.”

Another tear fell, and she dropped her head, so many emotions fighting inside her. Need for this man. Love for him.

But at the forefront of everything was grief over everything they’d lost.

Come on, Callie. Forgive me. Choose me.

The whispered plea played over in his head. A desperate need to get the woman he loved to love him back. To have her as his once again.

“I wish you’d found a way to tell me.” Her voice was so quiet it barely crossed the inches of space between them. “Or that the timing could have been different. It would have changed everything.”

“I know.” Fuck, he’d made so many mistakes in his life, but this one…this was the worst. “I wish I’d handled things differently. I wish I’d been less emotional in the moment and more rational and come up with a better plan.”

She touched his wrists, and for a split second, he thought he’d gotten through to her. That maybe she forgave him.

But then she stepped back, and that distance… fuck , it hurt. It felt like an entire damn ocean of space. “I need time, Lock.”

Time. The word felt so heavy it almost caved his knees. “Time for what? To think about us?”

“To think about everything.”

Finally, she looked up. There was so much sadness in her eyes, and that sadness punched right into him.

She tilted her head, a tear slipping from her green eyes. “I’m sorry you lost Winnie. I’m so incredibly sorry. I know what he meant to you. What your entire team meant to you. And I can understand why you did what you did. But…”

But? But what? But he’d done irreversible damage in letting her think he didn’t love her? But too much time had passed?

“Three weeks after you broke up with me…I—”

“Callie.”

She stopped as Aspen hurried toward them from the bar.

Dammit . She’d been about to tell him something important. He could feel it.

Aspen stopped beside them. “I’m sorry, I wanted to give you guys some time but I was worried.” She touched Callie’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Callie put more space between them, and it hurt. Jesus, it hurt. “I’m okay. But I think we should go home.”

“Callie—”

“We’ll talk soon, Lock.”

Then she turned and left, and he wondered what the hell she hadn’t said. What had happened that she wasn’t telling him? What could have possibly turned his ignoring her for three weeks into her disappearing for two years ?

A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Eastern standing there, a grim expression on his face.

“You angry I hit him?” Lock asked before his brother could get a word in.

“No. I probably would have hit him too, if he’d touched Sadie like that. I talked him out of pressing charges.”

Lock nodded, not caring if the guy wanted to press charges or not. He wanted him away from Callie, so he’d done what he had to do.

“Are you okay?” Eastern asked slowly.

“I told her. I told her why I broke up with her. I told her about Winnie and Remi and Hollie.”

“And?”

Lock’s jaw clicked. “She said she needed time .”

That single word burrowed inside him, hollowing him out. Why did that word sound so ominous?

Maybe because so much time had already passed, and that time had done too much damage.

“Okay, so give her time.” Eastern said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“How much?”

“As much as she needs.”

That’s what he’d been afraid of. The problem was, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive without her.