Callen
Rylan looks preoccupied as she leaves the coffee shop with Tatum. I gloat, internally hoping my little stunt at Utopia had the desired effect and that the stressed look on her face is entirely due to me leaving her high and dry…well, wet actually.
Tatum notices me first, and a smirk plays on her face, but Rylan stops in her tracks entirely when her focus lands on me. The girls say a few words to each other before they continue my way.
Rylan, shifting her eyes, stops at the hood of my truck.
“Get in.” I hold open the passenger door for her.
“What are you doing here? How did you even know where I would be?”
“Did you not get the message last night about how serious I am? Get in the fucking truck, Rylan, and for once in your life, don’t be difficult.”
Her head turns from side to side, and then she mumbles, “That freaking coward. She left me here. Some friend she is.”
Tatum split almost immediately. It might be making Rylan cranky, but I’m thankful she took off. Convincing Rylan to fucking listen for once would have been harder if I’d had to talk in code in front of Tatum.
“I won’t ask again, Rylan.”
She concedes and hops into my truck with a scowl on her face. I slam the door and walk around to the driver’s side. The air inside is heavy as we drive to my place with silence sitting between us.
Until it isn’t. Until Rylan breaks through the noiselessness.
“You can’t just fucking show up and order me around. It doesn’t work like that. I’m not someone you can control,” she fumes.
“I just did.” And it worked.
“Fuck you.” She turns in her seat to face me, her eyes ready to kill.
I check my mirrors and then slam on the brakes. “Fuck, Rylan! I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to fucking talk to you.”
We glare at one another, neither caring that I’m stopped in the middle of the road. My hand goes to her throat, our twisted version of holding hands. I don’t apply pressure but grip her with the full span of my hand. Her eyes soften just a little while she stares back at me.
“I’m not being unreasonable, Rylan. We didn’t have a little misunderstanding we can pretend didn’t happen. I fucking cut up a man in front of you and then fucked you until his heart stopped. You can’t run from that.” I look away from her, take my foot off the brake, press down on the gas, and continue forward. I shake my head at the madness of my words.
Normal people fight about money and bills. I get involved with a girl, and we fight about murder and bloodshed.
“I don’t want to run from it,” she quietly admits.
“You could have fooled me.”
“I ran from the conversation. I never wanted to run from what actually happened.”
I glance at her and am surprised that a hint of fire I have only ever seen at the club is in her eyes. She isn’t ashamed of the mess we made together. She isn’t scared of me. She isn’t remorseful about the death. The conviction in her voice was clear. The passion in her eyes is revealing.
But something tells me she’s running from herself.
My foot is heavy on the gas until we arrive at the neighborhood I’ve been calling home. I pull up beside my land plot and park the truck.
“This trailer park doesn’t look like the ones I’m familiar with,” Rylan comments as she opens the door of the truck.
“An RV park isn’t the same as a trailer park. These places are usually filled with retirees.”
“You don’t fit that description.”
“I don’t, but I travel so much that the RV seemed like the most reasonable choice.”
I get out and meet Rylan around the front of my truck.
“How long will you be here?” she questions.
“Until I’m not.”
I’m here until my job is done. She must have put those pieces together by now. Placing my hand against her lower back, I lead her toward my place for our long overdue conversation. Rylan is a loose end. Something I’ve never let walk the earth before. She knows more about my secrets than anyone left breathing does.
The bang of a nearby door makes me cringe. I hurry Rylan with quicker steps, but I’m too late, and Willy waves his hand and gives us both a huge smile. A deep exhale of frustration pushes through my lips.
“Thought you could sneak a girl inside without me seeing, huh?”
“Willy,” I greet without much enthusiasm.
“Don’t be rude, boy. Introduce me to your friend.”
“Willy, this is Rylan Pierce. Rylan this is my pain-in-the-ass neighbor, Willy.”
“You are a beautiful young thing,” he flirts.
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sweetness coats her words in a way that is so unlike her that I actually do a double take. She smiles at Willy and seems even younger than she already is.
He has a way with people. Even me. Somehow, I’ve warmed to Willy, but it has taken me time to get Rylan alone and to be somewhat cooperative, and Willy is interrupting that.
He takes her hand in his and gives her an endearing grin. “Rylan, where do I know you from? Your face looks so familiar. I could never forget such a beautiful girl.”
Her smile dips just a bit before stretching back into place. “I’m sorry, sir, but you must be mistaken. I’m very new to town, and I haven’t been out and about much. I must have a look-alike you’re confusing me with.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I remember you from somewhere, but I just can’t place it. Don’t worry. It’ll come to me.”
She shifts, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
So, I actually do something gentlemanly, and I save her. “Sorry, Willy, but we can’t chat. We’re a little busy. I’ll come swing by tomorrow.”
With my hand back in place, I steer Rylan toward my door, and she lets me.
Willy calls out just as I’m about to close the door behind Rylan and myself. “Remember what I said about the horseshoes, boy.”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” I mumble and give him a wave.
“What about horseshoes?” Rylan asks as she invades my space and looks around.
“Nothing. That old man is senile.”
“He seemed pretty with it to me.”
“With it enough to remember you from somewhere. Where?”
“He was confused,” she states with conviction.
“Didn’t seem like it.”
“You said yourself that the man is senile.”
I let the question go because I have much more important things we need to talk about. I said Willy is senile because I didn’t want to explain to Rylan what he meant by the horseshoe comment, but he’s far from losing it. There is nothing wrong with that man’s mind.
“Sit.” I motion to the couch behind her. “Do you want something to drink?” I move to the cupboard to grab something for myself.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
I pour us each a stiff drink, hand Rylan hers, and sit next to her on the couch. She fidgets and refuses to look me in the eyes. This woman, who is always so confident, squirms with a timid nature that is so unlike her. It kind of fascinates me.
“Why are you so nervous?” I start off easy.
“You’re going to ask me questions I don’t want to answer. You’re probably going to ask me questions I won’t answer.” Her response seems honest. That’s good.
“Look, I get it. I’m not much for words either, but what happened the other night…” My hand reaches out to her chin, and I tilt her face to me. “We can’t ignore it.”
“I won’t turn you in.”
For whatever reason, I’m not worried about that. It might be stupid, but that thought has barely crossed my mind. Besides, she has to know that she became an accessory to my crimes the minute she stepped foot in that house.
“You won’t because you’d be dead before you could ever think the action out.”
She takes me by surprise when she smi
rks before taking a sip of her drink. In not so many words, I just told her the price of her betrayal was death. That I wouldn’t think twice about taking her life, and she smirked at me like this is all some joke. I’m not sure if I should fall for this woman or stay as far away as humanly possible.
Her whiskey-wet lips glisten as she speaks, “I won’t turn you in because I don’t want to.”
“I threaten you, and you come right back at me. You’re not scared of me, are you?”
“I’m not scared of anyone. Your threats, your strength, my death—none of that frightens me. There is nothing, physical or emotional, that can be done to me to cut deep enough to hurt. My scars are my shield, stronger than any bulletproof vest.”
My urge to find out exactly what she is talking about surges, but I ignore it. She’s just a girl. She’s only temporary. She’s the best fuck of my life that’s proving to be more complicated than I ever could have imagined.
“Why did you follow me that night?”
She shrugs. “Curiosity.”
No, there is more than that. She’s fairly easy to read when she’s being honest, but she lets nothing show when she isn’t. I can pinpoint her truths from her lies, but I can’t determine what her lies are hiding.
“So, you followed me, hiked through yards, jumped fences, and waited in the dark out of curiosity?”
“Curiosity caused me to follow you. Your odd behavior caused me to get out of my car and trail you. It was obvious you were up to something, and I wanted to know what.”
Lies. More lies. Every word.
“Are you going to be straight with me?”
“You’re going to kill again.” It isn’t a question. So, I wait for her to say more. “I want you to take me with you.”
“What makes you so sure I’m going to kill again?”
“You’re the Murder by Numbers Killer. I saw the news after that night. I recognized the man’s face, the one you killed. The reporters are speculating. You have at least two more kills if they’re right.”
There will be a lot more than two kills in my lifetime.
“Whatever you think you know because you saw a news report doesn’t give you the full picture. I’ve been hired for this job. Killing is what I do. It’s work. What I’m doing? These people? They have nothing to do with me. I’m the facilitator, and I have to think about my client. My reputation.”
“Yeah? So, where is this client? Who do you work for? I don’t see anybody but you with the knife in your hands. You’re the decision-maker, and we both know it. The rest is crap!”
“You’re right; I am the decision-maker. And you’re not coming with me.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“I work alone, Rylan. My line of work isn’t conducive to Bring Your Fuck Buddy to Work Day. We could have left any number of clues from my carelessness at Sebastian’s house. We’re not talking about going out to a movie. We’re talking about taking a life. You can’t just purchase a ticket to my murder show.”
“You felt it, Callen. I know you did. That rush. The high. If you can honestly tell me you’ve ever experienced anything like that before, then I’ll drop it.”
I can’t tell her that honestly. Rylan got off on Sebastian’s fear and pain. I got off on watching her react, knowing my hands carrying out the lethal acts did that to her. My whole body reacted physically to the way she enjoyed herself in that moment. That experience was life-altering, and if I were completely honest, I would admit that I’ve been craving a repeat performance. I’ve fantasized about how far we could push it. I’ve imagined Rylan by my side again.
“You can’t. I know you can’t. Sex with us has always been incredible, but that night was extreme on another level.”
“Fuck, Rylan. You have to give me something. You’re asking for a whole lot of fucking trust from me all while keeping your mouth shut. Why does this not fucking terrify you? Why do you want this?”
I move from the couch to refill my glass. I need another drink.
“Have you ever experienced loss, Callen? Not a stranger, not a sad story from the news, and not the lives you take with your own hands, like a real heavy loss.”
“No.”
She stands and follows me to the kitchen area. Raw emotion bursts from her, the most emotion I’ve ever seen her display that wasn’t pleasure, and her voice breaks. “It changes you, rewrites you. Sometimes, if the loss is great enough, it completely controls you. That’s what happened to me. I lost something and let that loss take me away. When I was with you the other night, it was the first time in a really long fucking time that I felt like I had a slip of that control back. Now, I know it could make me thrive.”
A single tear, that seems so out of place to who she is, escapes and falls from her cheek and onto the countertop. Her hands clench into fists while I refill her glass.
“Who did you lose?”
“Who haven’t I lost?” She drains her glass and turns her back on me. “Take me back to my car, Callen.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be outside.”
“No. I’m not bringing you back to your car. That isn’t what I meant.”
She cautiously turns back, again facing me.
“What did you mean then?”
“You’re right. I’m not done, and when I find Number Two, I’ll bring you with me.” I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’ll be careful. I’ll cover my tracks. I’ll make sure this thing with Rylan doesn’t cause any complications. “But, Rylan, we need to be more careful. And I’m in charge when it comes to this. I have final say over every aspect of this topic. My job isn’t a place for your games.”
“Promise.” Her shirt comes up over her head.
I sip my whiskey.
She pushes her jeans down her slender legs, and then she reaches behind and unclasps her bra. The fabric slides down her arms.
I set my drink down, and Rylan steps forward, toward me.
“I’m glad you came around. Now, I think you owe me a little something for that shit you pulled the other night. Don’t be stingy with the orgasms. I want several, and I want them now.”
I smirk, slightly surprised that I forgot about my little game. “Did you behave, Little Bird? Have you touched yourself since I left you in that room?”
“I haven’t, and I’m ready to explode.”
“I’ll take care of you, Rylan.”
I’ll take care of all of it. The orgasms and the heinous things we have planned together.
“Are we crazy?” Rylan asks me.
Hours have crept by. Early morning has come.
I bent Rylan into a pretzel and gave her more orgasms than I have fingers. Something shifted while she lay beneath me, rode on top of me, and bent at the waist in front of me. As hard as I might have tried to fight it, Rylan and I aren’t two people looking to get off in the most convenient way. The voice inside my head screams the truth at me, and stupidity smacks me in the face. I should have seen it sooner.
We’re drawn to one another. The affliction inside each of us feeds off one another.
Rylan tilts her head and looks up at me. Her naked body clings to mine. The tips of her fingers flit across my skin. Her hazel eyes beg me not to take away my acceptance of our newly minted plan.
“Certifiable, but we’ll be careful. I’ve covered the tracks of one for years. With some planning and forethought, I can easily cover the tracks for two. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Getting caught doesn’t scare me either, Callen. Do what you need to, but I’ll be okay.”
“Now, that is insane, Little Bird. I’ve killed people. I lost track of the body count a long time ago. I’m aware of the risk involved. I could make a mistake or slip up and blow my cover. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about what those consequences could mean for me.”
She shuts down. Just like that. Her eyes leave mine, and she mumbles into my chest, “I don’t want to talk about me.”
I
sigh with a bit of frustration over how closed off she is. “Then, what do you want to talk about?”
“You. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about where you grew up and your family. Tell me where you came from.”
I’ll give an inch so that, hopefully, at some point, we can even make it a measly mile.
“I grew up in a whorehouse that my dad owns.”
“Wait, like you were around it a lot or you literally lived there?”
“The bedroom across the hall from mine was the room to three of his girls. Six others also lived in my childhood home with us. Most of them had been around for as long as I can remember, but every once in a while, a new girl would show up.”
“What about your mom?”
“I never knew her. She was one of my father’s girls. She split right after I was born.”
“That doesn’t sound like the idealistic childhood.” She looks up at me with commiserating eyes. She has a story from her past that rivals my own.
“It’s strange. When that life is all you’ve ever known, you don’t understand that it isn’t normal. I was isolated in the desert. For all I knew, all homes were just like mine. It was only after I left home that I realized how fucked it really was. The only thing I was certain about was that I hated my dad.”
“Why?”
My mind shifts to a man I rarely think about and a time that was long ago.
“I was never a child. I was an obedient employee who was being trained to take over the business. My father ruled with a raging temper and physical domination. I cleaned the appointment rooms. I greeted the customers. I made sure the girls were happy. When things were running smoothly, I hardly saw my father. But, when something went wrong, he couldn’t be ignored.”
“Do you still talk to your father?”
“No. I left Nevada at sixteen and never looked back.”
“What was the final straw that made you leave?”
Emerald. She started the chain that led to me leaving.
“One of the girls killed a client.” I had my first tinge of power that came from death. “The guy was someone the girls always complained about. He would get rough with them, and he never liked to be told no. He didn’t think whores should be able to deny him anything. Emerald snapped and stabbed him dozens of times.”
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