Callum pushed his body to the limit, his feet pounding the pavement in a fast, even rhythm, air rushing through his lungs. He’d always been a good runner. And he enjoyed it. The freedom it gave you. The way it blurred the world and the problems within it.
Liam was at Callum’s house with Fiona. He’d needed to get out and move. The run certainly wasn’t what it used to be, though. Before Project Arma, he’d been able to exhaust himself, mind and body. Push himself so hard that he could numb his thoughts.
Now, it felt so much fucking harder, and his problems so much heavier.
He loved Fiona. The emotion had snuck up on him. Hit him in the damn chest while he’d been busy getting to know her. He welcomed it…but the danger that surrounded her scared him.
He rounded a corner onto his street, spotting Liam’s car halfway down in front of his house.
Fiona was officially on lockdown. Where she was, he or someone from his team would be. He’d made a mistake not sticking someone on her twenty-four-seven earlier. He wasn’t making that mistake again, not when Olivia and Freddie were still out there. She was still getting those damn texts too, which were likely Olivia. He was leaning toward just blocking the damn number.
Too many possible threats coming from too many directions.
When he entered his house, Liam was standing by the window, arms crossed.
Callum closed the door. “Everything okay?”
Liam took a moment before dragging his gaze to Callum. “She’s okay. Went up to the bedroom to lie down.”
He slid his shoes off and crossed the room to stand beside his friend. “You thinking about how quiet it’s been, too?”
“Yeah,” Liam agreed. “Calm before the storm?”
Fuck, he hoped not. “All the pieces are telling us she wants to take over Fiona’s life. Hide from the people who are after her.”
“The perfect out,” Liam said quietly. “Which would mean, she’d need Fiona—”
“Gone.” Dead. It would be the only way to assume her life. Callum’s insides rolled at the thought.
Liam finally turned to look at Callum. “You want me to stay?”
“Nah. I’ll call if I need you. Thanks for coming over while I got out for a run.”
“Hope it helped.”
When his friend left, he closed and locked the door, then alarmed the house. The alarm was more for his team. If it went off, they’d be alerted.
He grabbed some water from the fridge and downed half the bottle before moving upstairs. He wasn’t sure if he was expecting Fiona to be asleep or just resting, but she was doing neither of those things. Instead, she sat cross-legged on the center of the bed. An open book sat to her right, but it looked like she’d deserted it. Instead, photos and printed information were spread around her. It was everything Callum had been able to find on her birth mother and twin sister that he’d printed off for Fiona.
She ran a finger over her mother’s face, like she was trying to become familiar with someone she’d never met.
“She missed out on raising a hell of a woman,” he said quietly.
Fiona’s gaze swung up. “Mom said I looked only a day or two old when I was left at their front door. And I can’t help but think that she never even tried. To get clean. To be the mother Olivia and I needed her to be.”
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Your mother was an addict. From what I found, it looks like she had no family. No one to lean on or to help her get clean. In leaving you at a friend’s home, she probably thought she was doing her best by you.”
She stared at the photo of her twin sister. “I’m not sure it was best for Olivia.” She shook her head. “Since we found out about her, I’ve just been feeling so guilty. Like I somehow took the better life.”
Callum cupped her cheek. “Hey. Look at me, Fiona.” It took a beat, but she finally did. “You got the better life, there’s no questioning that. But that was by chance. You had no hand in that, you didn’t take anything. And I said it before, but I’ll say it again, if situations were reversed, you would not be doing what she’s doing.”
“How do you know? I’ve had privilege and safety and love. She’s had none of that.”
“Because I know your heart.” He touched a hand to her chest, felt the thumping beneath his palm. “You are inherently good. You did not have a choice in your upbringing. And her adversity does not excuse her trying to hurt others.”
A small hint of a smile touched her lips. Then she cupped his hand, which still held her cheek, and rubbed the soft pad of her thumb over his skin. “You continue to be my knight in shining armor, pulling me back when I’m right on the edge.”
“I’ll be whatever you need me to be, honey.”
His gaze caught on something on her arm, and his eyes narrowed. Were those fucking bruises? She followed his gaze, and when she saw what he was looking at, she covered her arm with her hand.
“That asshole bruised you.” It wasn’t a question. She’d been wearing a sweater earlier today, so he hadn’t seen the marks. Fuck, he wanted to murder the scumbag.
“I’m okay. And with some luck, he might leave town now. In fact, he said it was over between him and Amanda, so he might be out of my life for good.”
Callum’s jaw clicked. He’d seen the way Freddie looked at her today. Like she was all he saw. He wasn’t so sure getting rid of the asshole would be so easy.
He shifted his hand from her cheek to her arm, gently brushing her hand off the marks before grazing them with his thumb. Then, slowly, he leaned down and kissed the bruises, one at a time, making a vow that no man would ever hurt his woman again.
Her breath hitched. Slowly, he trailed his kisses up her shoulder, then her neck. When he reached her cheek, she sighed and tilted her head.
“Callum…” His name came out throaty and raspy, and so damn sexy, he wanted to replay it over and over again.
Her hands went to the base of his shirt and tugged it over his head, then she grazed her fingers down the planes of his chest, leaving a trail of fire in her wake.
“I’ve just been on a run, Fi. I need to shower.”
She chuckled, and the sound dug into his chest, laying its claws into his damn heart. She kissed his cheek, then his ear before whispering, “You could have been dragged through mud and I’d still want you. Every. Time.”
Her words blazed through him, decimating every other thought.
His lips crashed to hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. One arm swept around her waist, while the other shoved aside the papers on the bed. Even the book thudded to the floor. Then he lay her down, his body pressing hers into the mattress. She was soft against him, and each touch felt like silk to his fingertips.
His lips left her mouth but never her skin, trailing down her chin and neck before reaching her top. She wore a button-up white shirt that fucking toyed with him. One button popped open, then another. One by one, he bared her skin, his kisses trailing down the center of her chest as he went. When he saw the bra had a front hook, he wanted to groan.
He unlatched it, freeing her perfect tits, then swooped, wrapping his lips around one tight bud. Fiona cried out, the sound slicing through him, cutting into his damn heart. He swiped his tongue over that perfect nipple, finding the other with his fingers and thrumming.
She writhed and arched below him, clenching and tugging his hair. Every movement was torture. He switched to her other breast while he reached down and undid the top button of her jeans before unzipping her.
He slipped inside her panties, and her breath stopped. At the first stroke of his finger over her clit, she arched, and the sounds she made were pure music. Perfectly tuned beats of moans and groans made just for him.
He played with her clit, his mouth never leaving her breast. She was close, exactly where he wanted her.
“Callum…I need you!”
Best damn words he’d ever heard. In under a second, he had her jeans and panties off and his own shorts and briefs removed. Then he was between her thighs, loving how she widened for him. Welcomed him.
He held her gaze as he slowly pushed inside. Stretching her. Stealing the breath from both their lungs. When he was seated deep inside her walls, he took a moment to watch the woman, almost in awe.
Beautiful. So damn beautiful. He cupped her cheek, his thumb swiping the delicate skin beside her eye.
“I love you, Fiona.” The words slipped from somewhere deep inside him, accidental yet perfectly placed. Because those words had been tormenting him. Clawing at his throat, needing to get free.
Her eyes widened, tears filling them as her heart sped up.
“I’ve loved you for a while,” he continued in her silence. “So much that you’re all I think about. You’ve become my world. Wherever you are, I need to be.”
She swallowed, a single tear slipping down her face. He caught it with his thumb and wiped it away.
“Callum…I love you so much that I can barely think about my future without thinking of the life I want to live with you. The life I crave because I crave you.”
Each word dug deeper inside him until she was all he could feel. His head dropped and he kissed her. Drowned in her. Then he moved, lifting his hips before thrusting back inside.
Fiona whimpered, and he did it again, starting a long, rhythmic series of thrusts, each one bringing them closer, chaining them together.
He never separated his lips from hers, never wanting to be apart from her. She’d become such a key element of his world that he had no center without her. No damn strength to go on. To continue. To survive without her.
Fiona’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her leg curving around his hips, urging him deeper. Faster.
He reached for her breast, rolling her bud between his thumb and forefinger.
Her nails bit into his skin, her back arched, then she broke, her long, passion-filled screams cutting through the air. Callum wanted to hold on, but at the feel of her walls pulsing around him, he growled and his body shattered. For her. Always for her.
