I lean against the wall and pinch the bridge of my nose, struggling to calm my breathing enough to answer Calista while searching for a response that won’t give away the depths of rage I’ve yet to ascend from. My delayed response only prompts her to open the door.
She steps inside, her gaze immediately finding mine. Her hazel eyes are bright with uncertainty, and her bottom lip trembles with worry, but she still makes her way toward me.
“Don’t,” I say, holding up a hand, palm facing her.
Calista flinches and comes to an abrupt stop. The hurt look on her face has a pang streaking through my chest. What if she knew about the shit I wanted to do to whoever hurt her?
If she were smart, she’d run faster and farther than she did earlier.
After folding her hands in front, Calista twists her fingers in the material of my t-shirt, unable to contain her nervousness. “You know.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My gut is still churning, and my fists are so tight by my sides that my arms shake with the strain. If I could touch her without being a danger to her, I would. But right now, I’m not… stable.
Calista bows her head and her hair glides along the sides of her face, a curtain of silk to caress her pale cheeks. “I knew you’d look at me differently.” Her whisper, filled with pain and disappointment, is loud in the silence. I stiffen with alarm at the dejection in her voice, having never heard it before.
When she lifts her head, her gaze has hardened into crystallized amber, fractured with agony. After turning on her heel, she leaves the office, briefly pausing to glance at me over her shoulder. “I was hoping you’d still want me once you knew, but I was wrong.”
She disappears from sight before I’m freed from the trance she put me in with her confession. I take off after her, my strides eating up the distance between us. She quickens her steps at my arrival, which only has my blood pumping that much faster.
I catch up to her in the hallway and grab her arm, spinning her around to face me. Then I invade her space, wanting nothing between us, and press her spine to the wall. She blinks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, gutting me where I stand.
“I still want you,” I say. “So fucking much.”
“Then why…” She flicks her gaze in the direction of my office, her message clear.
“I’m enraged that this happened to you. And because I can’t do a fucking thing to take the pain away.”
She stills, eyes widening at my tone. I curse under my breath and force myself to relax my grip on her arm, though I don’t release her. I need the contact with her, the reassurance that she’s here with me.
“I need you to tell me everything you remember, so I can find who did this to you,” I say.
“And then what?” She fists her trembling hands in my shirt, her eyes blazing with emotion. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll make them suffer in ways no one has ever suffered. Before I fucking kill them.”
She shakes her head. “Please, don’t do that.”
“Why?!” I yell the question, unable to understand why she doesn’t want revenge. It’s something I’ve searched for all my life since my mother’s death, and I can’t imagine anyone else forgoing the satisfaction that comes from destroying the person who stole something from you.
My thoughts reignite the fury within me that craves release. My chest tightens until I can barely breathe while tension thrums through every inch of my body. I let go of her arm to slam my fist in the wall. She cries out in fright while I embrace the pain that shoots through my knuckles.
When I retract my hand from the drywall to examine the injury, Calista gasps. “You’re bleeding!”
Before I can punch the wall again, she reaches for me. With her brow creased, she gently takes my hand, her touch having an immediate effect. The tenderness acts as a balm, easing the blaze of my darker emotions, the ones that threaten to burn me alive as they torment me.
It’s confounding that this woman can tame the violence in me with the mere brush of her skin against mine or with a kind word.
Calista tugs on my hand, urging me to follow her into my bathroom. I lean against the counter as she gathers the medical supplies I used earlier on her feet. Without hesitation, she cleans and bandages my hand.
I watch her.
The way her fingers caress me.
The way her gaze drifts over my face.
The way her body gravitates towards mine.
Every bit of contact with her douses the heat of my rage until something else stirs within me, awakening at her nearness. Desire. How could she ever think I wouldn’t want her? It’s unfathomable to me.
And the reason I’ll never let her go.
Even now, after witnessing the destruction and violence I unleashed, her face holds no traces of judgment. Apprehension, yes. But that’s going to take time to erase. Despite this, her only thought is to soothe and to comfort, as if my suffering were her own.
This humbles me.
When she finishes binding my hand, she looks up at me, her eyes shadowed with concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “It’ll only make things worse. The thought of someone hurting you… I’ve never felt so out of control.”
Calista drops her gaze, releasing me. I take her face between my hands, willing her to look at me once more. She does and it gives me the wherewithal to tell her the truth.
“You need to know that I won’t change my mind about getting revenge,” I say. “You deserve it, and I need it. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
She slowly nods.
“Good.” I bring out foreheads together, soaking in her presence. It washes over me like a cool mist, putting out the remaining embers heating my fury. At least for tonight. “When it comes to your wellbeing, there are no limits on what I’d do to keep you safe.”
“I know,” she says, her breath a whisper that grazes my mouth. “I haven’t felt safe since my father died. Thank you for protecting me. I just hope it doesn’t…”
“Tell me, Callie.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you because of me or my past.”
“Everything will be fine.”
I pull her into my arms and guide her head to my chest, needing her close with her body pressed to mine. Hearing her admit she cares for me only makes me want her all the more. But it’s not just that.
It makes me want her affection.
Perhaps, even her love.
I’m not sure I know how to encourage or nurture this feeling, but if it gives me more of her, the parts no one else has access to…? I’m going to pursue it until I get what I want. Like a trophy, I’ll display her love for all to see while knowing she’s mine.
“Let’s get you to bed,” I say into the strands of her hair. “You need to sleep.”
She curls her fingers into my shirt. “Stay with me?”
“Of course.”
I step back and take her hand in mine, leading her into the bedroom. The space is dark and quiet, lending itself to intimacy. Not only of the sexual variety, but the emotional ones as well. At this moment, I want to be close to Calista in every way possible, even if it requires me to be vulnerable in a way I find uncomfortable.
I’d do anything to be whatever she needs me to be.
She climbs into the bed and turns to look at me, her gaze full of invitation. And longing. If there’s a possibility that she could feel the same way about me like I do her, I’ll die satisfied.
Calista pats the comforter with a shy expression. “You coming?”
I nod before stripping down to my boxers. Her gaze widens with every article of clothing that hits the floor. The appreciative gleam that lights up the hazel of her eyes instantly makes me hard. When she takes in the length of my cock, it has the fucker jerking and releasing pre-cum.
Before I lose control—for the second fucking time within an hour—I climb into the bed. Her focus never wavers. It stays on me like a shadow, only making it that much harder not to fuck her.
“Come here,” I say, my voice gruff because of the sexual frustration pricking at me.
Calista slides over and presses her body to my side. I nearly fucking sigh because of how much I love the feel of her. Instead, I snake my arm around her back and place my hand on her hip, my grip secure.
We lie in silence and with each passing minute, my body relaxes, the muscles slowly uncoiling. And then molding to her. Calista fits against me like she was made for me. There’s a rightness that settles along my body, allowing me to be at peace in a way that’s unusual.
Funerals are the one of the few places I experience serenity, but that’s changed.
Not only does Calista soothe me, she makes me feel like I’m home.
