Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

L ock stepped back. Done. He’d spent the better part of the day installing a new window in Hamish’s living room. A window Hamish had ordered a while ago but never installed. The crack in the glass of the old one had apparently been there for almost a year. Usually just the glass could be replaced, but the wood had also been rotting, so he’d wanted the entire thing changed.

Lock was outside, having just finished the last of it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a text.

Antwan: You better be excited to see my pretty face because I just started packing my shit. See you in a week.

Lock smiled. He was looking forward to seeing the guys. He just wished his entire team could make it. They’d gone from seeing each other every day to being too damn far from each other, but Lock was counting on seeing them soon.

Lock: Don’t know which pretty face you’re talking about, but I’ll get the spare rooms ready.

Antwan: You can’t have forgotten. You only looked at it every day for the last ten years. Try not to fangirl when you see me.

His lips twitched. Antwan joking around was a good sign.

He shoved his cell back into his pocket as footsteps sounded behind him.

“You’re finished.”

Lock turned to see Hamish. “I am. Was a pretty bad break in the glass. How’d it happen?”

A flash of anger passed over Hamish’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Some jerks threw a r-rock at it.”

The fuck ? “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. Did you tell Eastern?”

Hamish shook his head before pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can I ask you s-something?”

“Shoot.”

“What does it feel like?”

Lock frowned. “What does what feel like?”

“B-being you.”

Okay, now Lock was really fucking lost. “I’ve really got nothing to compare it to. Why are you asking?”

“People don’t mess with you b-because you’re strong and tough. W-women trust you to keep them safe. I’m not like that.”

Lock stepped forward. “Hamish. What’s going on?”

“I…” He shook his head. “Nothing. Life’s just kicking my ass at the m-moment. Send me the bill for the window, okay?” He turned and headed toward his front door, but before he made it inside, Lock called out to him.

“Hamish.” He looked at Lock over his shoulder. “We all have our rough patches. You’re doing good.”

His brows flickered, and he looked like he wanted to say something. But he just dipped his chin. “Thanks.” Then he stepped inside.

Poor guy. It seemed like everyone was having a tough time right now.

Lock blew out a breath as he packed up his tools. He’d just climbed into the truck when he cursed at the time.

Shit . He was late to pick Callie up and take her home. Again. And he still needed to drop by Mrs. Agar’s place and fix her lock. It would only take him twenty minutes, but he wanted to get to Callie. At least she wasn’t alone. She’d texted that her dad was staying for pizza after the last Pilates session.

He drove faster than he should have and ended up fixing Mrs. Agar’s lock in half the time.

When he reached the studio, he parked on the opposite side of the road. He was about to climb out of his truck when something in the rearview mirror caught his attention. Or, less something as some one .

Was that…was that a fucking person standing at the mouth of the alley? Were they watching the studio? There were shadows over the person’s face, so Lock couldn’t make out features, but he was tall. Definitely a man.

The veins in Lock’s forearms pulsed. He shot one glance at the studio window. The lights were on, but he couldn’t see anyone inside. Her father’s Chevy was out front though. They were likely in the back room.

Instead of heading toward the studio, he walked the sidewalk toward the alley, keeping his head down and hands in his pockets. He tried to keep his body language casual so it wasn’t obvious what he was doing. But if the guy was watching Callie, he’d recognize Lock—and he’d probably run.

Like he’d read Lock’s mind, the man suddenly turned and disappeared into the alley.

Fuck.

Lock ran, his feet pounding against the concrete and following the guy into the alley. The asshole was fast. Just as fast as Lock.

Dammit, he wasn’t closing the distance.

The closed gate at the end of the alley would hopefully slow him down. It was high and would be hard to climb.

The guy reached it—and Lock watched as he climbed and jumped over to the other side in one fluid move, like he’d done it a thousand times before.

Who the fuck was this guy?

The guy exited the alley, turning right.

Lock sped up and jumped the gate. He followed him onto the street…only to stop.

He was gone. Where? There were a few cars on the road, some parked, some moving. He could be in or hiding behind any of them. There were also a couple of businesses still open.

Lock’s chest heaved, air rushing in and out of his lungs. He wanted to keep going. To scour the streets, searching every car and business to find the asshole.

But he also didn’t want to be away from Callie for too long.

Gritting his teeth, Lock jogged down the street, going the same way the guy did, circling back to Callie’s studio.

Still nothing. He was gone.

There was a chance the guy had nothing to do with Callie or the notes she was receiving. That he was just a lurker who’d run scared at the sight of Lock.

But the guy hadn’t moved like some random person who’d run scared. He was too fast. Too agile. And no part of Lock wanted a guy like that close to Callie.

Callie laughed at something her father said.

It felt good to spend time with her dad and think of something other than Lock.

He’d spent the last week sleeping on her couch while she pretended to be unaffected by the sight of his muscled chest. By the day-old stubble on his face each morning that she itched to run her fingers over. Hell, even the scent of him in her house was driving her wild.

She was pretty sure she’d done a terrible job at the pretending-to-be-unaffected part. He might even have caught her staring once or twice.

Great. It was just great.

“She told you she was going to put a camera on your house?” Callie asked. Her dad had a wacky neighbor. It wasn’t the normal level of crazy. It was the door-knocking-at-six-a.m., daily-empty-threats, and death-stares-from-the-living-room-window kind of crazy.

“Not on my house,” her dad pressed, “ in my house.”

“What?”

Her father nodded. “Apparently, I would never find it, but she’d always be watching just to make sure I wasn’t plotting to take one of her ten cats.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her she’d never find the devious plans that I’d printed and hidden in the house.”

Callie threw back her head and laughed. A big belly laugh. She could just imagine the older woman’s reaction. Not only was she unhinged but she couldn’t take a joke to save her life. “Maybe you need to move. I’m a bit worried about your safety.”

“That woman’s all empty threats.”

It was true. She was about ninety years old and probably going senile.

Her father leaned back. “I’m full. Ordering pizza was a great idea.”

“Well, I’m on strict instructions from Lock to stay here until he comes to get me, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my time than eating pizza with my favorite person.”

The second she brought up her safety, she regretted it. She’d told her father about the notes and the person in her yard, and of course he was worried.

The laughter cleared from his face, replaced with concern. “Are you safe?”

“Lock’s been sleeping on my couch. I couldn’t be safer.”

“Good. You tell me if that changes.”

She’d actually do everything she could not to, but she nodded anyway.

Her father cleared his throat. “I’m actually glad you called. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Callie’s belly gave a little dip, even though she wasn’t sure why. “What about?”

“I want to sign my properties over to you.”

And there it was, the crash back to reality. The reminder that her father was sick. That there was no cure. That even though they could sit here, eat pizza and laugh while they pretended everything was fine, it wasn’t.

“Dad, we don’t need to talk about this right now.”

“We do. I know this is hard for you, but we can’t dance around the fact that I have a neuro-degenerative disorder, and it’s going to get worse.”

Her chest squeezed.

“My properties were always going to go to you anyway. My diagnosis has just…fast-tracked things.” He reached down and lifted a folder he’d walked in with that she intentionally hadn’t asked about. “I asked my lawyer to prepare everything. All you need to do is sign.” When he held it out to her, there was a shake in his hand. Another reminder of the ugly disease.

She didn’t move to take it. It felt like she couldn’t. She didn’t want his properties to be signed over to her. They were his. They would always be his.

He leaned forward and gently took her hand to place the documents in her palm. “Please, Callie. I love you. I need to make sure everything’s in order before—”

“Dad, stop. Parkinson’s itself isn’t fatal. You could live ten, fifteen, twenty years or more with the disease.”

“Callie—”

A distant knock sounded from the other room, and she blinked away the tears before standing and moving to the studio area to see Lock outside.

She set the folder on the desk while her dad opened the door. “Hi, son.”

Lock dipped his head as he stepped inside, his jaw visibly tight and hair windswept.

Something was wrong.

Lock gave her a once-over before looking back to her father. “It’s good to see you here looking after your daughter, Jude. Thank you.”

“No, it’s Callie who looks after me.” Her dad turned toward her. “I’ll see you next time, sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

The second the door closed after him, she sucked in a breath and looked up at Lock. “What’s going on?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to tell her something, only to stop and frown. He studied her face, making her want to turn away and hide.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

“Nothing.” A lie if she’d ever told one.

Before he could ask anything else, she headed into the back room. Making sure to keep her back toward Lock, she closed the pizza-box lid. “There’s half a pizza left if you want it.”

“Callie—”

“My dad barely ate anything. I, however, ate far too much.”

“Callie, stop.”

She grabbed a cloth from the sink and wiped the table. “We should get out of here before it gets too late. It’s already getting dark and—”

Strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist, halting her, making her drop the cloth to the table. His mouth moved to her ear as he gently whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Her chest moved quickly, grief tugging at her heart. “He was shaking.”

There was a small pause. “Your dad?”

“Yes. He was shaking. And even though I told him he could live twenty years or more, the reality is, the complications from Parkinson’s can be fatal. People fall because of mobility issues. They get infections they can’t fight. And it makes me think that I can’t hold on to people. I can’t save anyone I love. I can’t—”

She was turned and pulled against him.

Five seconds. That’s how long she held it together before the tears began and she let herself fall apart, knowing Lock would save all the pieces. Trusting him to put her back together later. He held her so tightly she felt safe. He was warm and familiar, and right now, he was the only thing keeping her on her feet.

He didn’t say anything, just let her cry for the losses she’d already experienced and the losses that were still to come.

She wasn’t sure how many minutes ticked by before she finally stopped. God, his top was drenched with tears—again—and her eyes had to be puffy. When she looked up at him, it was to see concern in his eyes.

He didn’t ask if she was okay though. He knew she wasn’t. Instead, he said three healing words. “I’ve got you.”

How did he know exactly what to say?

“I know you do. Thank you.” She shook her head. “I’ve got to stop falling apart on you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ll hold you whenever and for as long as you need.” He swiped a tear from her cheek.

Too sweet. He was too sweet.

Pull yourself together, Callie.

She pushed her hair back from her cheek. “What was wrong when you walked in here?”

His gaze shifted between her eyes. “It can wait. Right now, I just need to know you’re okay.”