Callahan swept her off her feet and carried her the few feet to the couch. He put her on her back, and she scooted until her head rested against the pillows. Raine kicked one leg up to rest against the wall and spread the other wide. He dived between them with Olympic skill and the grace of a dancer, then entered her. His rock-hard cock hammered between the warm, wet walls of her pussy, and she tightened her ass to caress him with a squeeze. Sensual sensations rolled over her, as powerful and regular as ocean waves, and he rocked back and forth, each stroke delivering a new burst of pleasure. Raine planted her left leg against his back and held tight. Her fingers clawed at his back, digging deep and pulling him closer.
His breath came short and fast as he worked in and out of her body at a constant pace. Everything else faded to black as she focused on making love with Callahan. Her physical delight intensified to the point where it became almost pain, and she needed release. Raine held back as long as possible to make the climax the ultimate experience, but when she heard the things he said, she lost control and yielded to the explosion.
“Oh, baby,” he told her. “Honey, angel, darling, acushla, sweetheart, come for me. Oh, God, oh, Jesus and all the saints. Raine. Rainee. Lorraine. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He thrust into her with all the power and might in the world, or so it seemed, as she convulsed, body burning with erotic heat, delight spiraling through her body as potent as electricity, and she rode the high with him. They came together in a satisfying burst of wonder and clung together. He shook hard as he climaxed, and she held onto him tight, his words echoing in her mind.
“I love you, too,” she cried as the aftershocks spasmed through her body. “Oh, Callahan.”
After, he managed to fit onto the couch with her tucked into his arms. Raine cuddled against him, content to listen to his steady heartbeat. “Hey,” he whispered. She waited, certain he was about to say something poetic and beautiful. “I should’ve thought to pull out the bed, huh?”
So much for sweet words, she thought and laughed. Her giggles were contagious, and he joined her in mirth until they both slid from the couch onto the floor. Callahan stood up and offered her his hand. When Raine found her feet, she faced him, her gaze intent on his dark eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t mention it, baby.”
She had to know, so she asked. “Did you mean it?”
Callahan cocked an eyebrow upward. “About the bed, or that I love you?”
Her heart skipped several beats. “Both.”
His eyes met hers without wavering. “Yeah to both and yeah, I love you, Raine. It wasn’t just something I said in the heat of the moment. I feel it here.”
He tapped his chest, and she put her hand over his. “So do I,” she told him. “I love you, too.”
The smile he shared could illuminate Forty-Second Street. “Good,” Callahan said. “That’s real good. C’mere.”
Raine moved forward. He held her close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead, then a steamier one on her mouth. His arms were both haven and heaven, the place she wanted to be. After a pause, he said, “So do you want to go out, or are you hungry?”
“I’m starved.”
“We’ll order in,” he said. “You like Italian? I can order food from the place I planned to take you, and we can eat here if it’s all right.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Forty-five minutes later, with Callahan dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Raine wearing one of his shirts to be comfortable, they sat down to the best chicken cacciatore she had ever eaten. Cal poured them each a glass of wine, and the sweet red went down smooth with the food. Neither said much, but they touched often and a peace stretched out between them, soft as the night.
Raine relished the food, but she savored the newfound wonder of shared love even more. Although she’d dated many guys, two of them on a semi-serious basis, she had never experienced the poignant depth of emotion she felt with Callahan. She chalked up his lack of conversation to similar feelings and adjusting to this unexpected but marvelous development. When she moved to New York, she never expected to find a lover, but she had, and she couldn’t remember being happier.
As she cleared away the remains of their dinner and tossed the trash, Callahan came behind and kissed the nape of her neck. “It’s getting late. You wanna stay here tonight?”
She did but couldn’t. “I can’t,” she told him. “I wish I could, but all my clothes and stuff are at my place.”
“You’ve got your teacher bag.”
Raine glanced down at the laptop bag with enough compartments to carry her daily schedules and paperwork. “I do, but I’d have to leave so early.”
“I’ll get up and take you if you want, doll.”
Raine considered it and caved. “If you have time, then okay.”
“I do.”
“So what do we do now?” she asked. “It’s probably too cold to go up on the roof.”
“It’s not for me, but you’d freeze even if you put your skirt back on,” he said. “Let’s go to bed, what do you think?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea.”
Together, they folded the bed out to its full size, then Raine made it up with fresh sheets. Callahan showered, and then she did, before donning one of his T-shirts, so big it swam on her. At first she thought they would cuddle, but once they were prone, his hands roamed over her body and her desire quickened.
“Love me,” she whispered in the darkness, and he did, with slow measure and intense tenderness. He brought her to orgasm with skill, and they shared the climax together. This time, they didn’t laugh afterward, but nestled together, tighter than spoons in a drawer, and slept.
****
Before daylight, they rose and dressed, she in her discarded teacher’s outfit, Cal in simple attire. “I’ll dress at the precinct,” he told her, tossing a few garments into a bag. “Let’s go.”
Despite the early hour, the familiar yellow cabs prowled the streets, and the ever-present wail of sirens screeching somewhere echoed in the distance. Few pedestrians were out, and many of the shops still had their barricades down, waiting for business hours. Callahan stopped at a tiny bakery on the corner to buy sweet rolls and coffee. They ate on the subway, the train car almost empty. An old woman smiled at them, her expression so soft Raine imagined she must remember the joys of new love.
Callahan walked her to her building and kissed her. “Where will you be when you quit for the day?” he asked.
Raine named the drug rehabilitation facility in lower Manhattan where she had two students. “Why?”
“I thought I’d come meet you,” he told her. “Then we’ll maybe go ride the ferry and grab something to eat. I gotta see you, baby. Knowing I will gets me through the day.”
Her smile blossomed across her lips as joy radiated from her heart outward. “All right, sure. I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
“What time? Four or four-thirty?”
“You’d better make it four-thirty.”
He nodded. “I’ll be there. Love you, baby.”
“I love you, too.”
The words tasted sweet on her tongue, and she watched him walk away, loving his swagger as he returned to the subway station. Then Raine went upstairs, showered, put on a fresh outfit, and prepared to tackle another day, her step light and happy.
Chapter Nine
Callahan wanted to look back to see if Raine watched, but he didn’t. Instead, he whistled a merry tune, some old folk song he’d learned in elementary school. As he strode toward the subway, he inhaled the morning air. The autumn chill added a bite and a sense of freshness often lacking. Instead of the usual tobacco aroma from smokers huddled in doorways and alleys, the smell of a corner dry cleaner, the wafting scent of baking bread, or the rich one of meat sizzling on a street cart’s grill, he swore he smelled pumpkins and hay and spice. Love, he decided, did funny things to a guy and made him forget the mundane for the magical.
> He skirted around a slow-moving older woman with two heavy shopping bags and turned toward the entrance at Delancey Street to catch the F train to the Bronx. If he didn’t hurry or if he got hung up anywhere, he would be late, but right now Callahan didn’t give a shit. Nothing could touch his happiness, nothing, not even an ass-eating from his precinct captain.
If he hadn’t paused to let a man with two little kids go down the stairs first and gave them space, he wouldn’t have changed his opinion. Some instinct, though, made him turn his head right, and when he did, Callahan spotted Snake Marsh. He stood with his back against a light pole as if he waited for someone. Cal’s quick scan of the crowds failed to reveal Bull or Shoe, but he wasn’t sure if their absence boded well or ill.
Icy fingers crawled down his back. The bad news bastard hanging around this close to Raine’s place set off major alarms. It might be coincidence—hell, he hoped it was—but if it wasn’t, his lady could be in danger.
His stomach tightened, hard as a fist, enough to hurt. Callahan ignored the pain as he backtracked. Instead of going down into the station, he bypassed it and took up a position on the corner where he could watch Snake. Sooner or later, Raine would head for work. He mentally kicked himself for not asking for her full schedule. All he knew was she’d finish up in Lower Manhattan late this afternoon. I’ll be late, but I don’t care. I promised I’d do my best to keep her safe, and I will. I love her. I can’t lose it. Or go through anything like I did with Anthony.
Although he considered calling the precinct or at least his partner, Joe, Cal didn’t. Since he hadn’t put on the uniform this morning, he blended into the street, part of the moving mass of people going somewhere for the day. About the time he had almost decided he suffered from paranoia, Snake detached from the pole and strolled up the street, his ponytail swinging. Halfway down the block, his kid brother Bull fell in step beside him. Without hesitation, Callahan followed, keeping back and remaining on the opposite side of the street.
Morning sunlight highlighted Raine’s hair as she left her building and walked in the opposite direction. Cal followed her, keeping far enough back she wouldn’t catch sight of him, and kept the Marsh brothers in view. They slowed their pace, he noticed, but when she stepped onto a bus a few blocks away, they didn’t follow her.
Although relieved, Callahan wasn’t done stalking the brothers. He joined a crowd crossing at the next corner and doubled back to catch up with them. Keeping enough distance to avoid their notice, he trailed them for several blocks. When they ducked around a corner into a small space to light cigarettes, he paused and listened. Their voices were amplified by the walls around them, and he heard them without any difficulty.
“Did you see the bitch?” Snake said. Callahan recognized the low growl of his voice from their brief interaction on Coney Island. “Strolling along, smelling like fuckin’ bacon, man, a cop’s bitch if I ever saw one.”
“Yeah, I seen her,” Bull answered. “What you got against her anyhow? She wasn’t so bad as a teacher.”
“I hate the police bastard she’s with, that’s what.”
“He busted you? For what?”
“He sent me to Riker’s Island, man, to jail, and he’s one of them trying to pin Juan’s murder on me, but they don’t got any evidence so he can’t. He ain’t putting me away again, no fucking way.”
“You iced Juan, though, I was there,” Bull said with a nasty laugh.
“That’s nothing no one needs to know, kid, not Juan or any of the rest. No one fucks with your bro, Bully, and you know it.”
“So the dude’s a fuckin’ cop and you hate him, I get it. But why the teacher, man?”
“’Cause she’s his, that’s reason enough. Besides, he’s the one who killed Dante, man. Everyone on the street knows that. So it’s payback. You going soft on me, Bull?”
“Naw, I ain’t.”
“Good, don’t. C’mon, let’s go. I ain’t fucking with her now. I’ll wait till it’s the right time, then I’ll do what I want.”
Heart pounding, stomach in knots, Callahan did an about-face and marched in the opposite direction. He wouldn’t want them to see him. If they did, it would increase the danger for Raine. Acting on autopilot, he headed for the Forty-Eighth Precinct in the Bronx. When he walked into the squad room, Joe glanced up from a stack of paperwork, then looked at his watch. “You’re late,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I gotta get changed into uniform. Has the captain noticed yet I’m late?”
His partner shrugged. “I don’t know. If he did, he didn’t say.”
“Good.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you? You’re never late, and you look like holy hell. You sick or something?”
He’d been straight with his partner from day one, but Callahan hesitated. Part of him wanted to share his dilemma with Lowry, but if he did, it might lead to the same bullshit he’d endured after Anthony died. He would rather not face another internal investigation, be off duty, and be railroaded into counseling. It hadn’t helped much anyway. His gut twinged and he made up his mind what to do. “Aw, I got a bellyache, that’s all,” he said. It wasn’t a lie—he did.
“Whaddya get a bad hot dog or something?” Joe asked. “You’re never sick, kiddo.”
“Something like that, yeah.” For emphasis, Callahan rubbed his abdomen and winced.
His partner’s hard features softened. “Jeez, Callahan, maybe you ought to take the day off or something. You got the sick days, don’t you?”
“I still have a few, yeah.” He’d used up several when he’d been shot. Back when Anthony died, he missed a lot of time, a little more when Aidan passed, but he had built back up his leave.
“Get outta here, then. Go nurse your gut. Stop by a drugstore and get something,” Joe told him. “You look worse than when you got shot for Christ’s sake. Sure it ain’t your appendix or something?”
Cal grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure. I had it out a long time ago.”
“Good to know,” Joe said. “So, go on. I’ll make it right with the Captain, all right?”
“Thanks, partner,” he said. “I’m going.”
“Take it easy and come back tomorrow, healed, you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I do.”
Callahan escaped before any of his co-workers or the precinct captain might question him. Once on the street, though, he hesitated. He had no idea what to do with the day. If he knew Raine’s schedule, he would go find her, but since he didn’t, hours stretched out until he would see her. His sole consolation was that if he didn’t know where she would be, then neither would the Marshes. He could text her but she was working, and since he wasn’t, Callahan decided he wouldn’t.
Wild thoughts combined with powerful emotions made him half crazy. The love shared with Raine meant everything, but the glorious joy he’d known earlier had been tempered with worry. He needed to clear his head, to get a grip so he could deal with the situation, but with mind and stomach both in an uproar he couldn’t. Calm down. You need to think it through without bullshit, and pull your shit together before you meet her this afternoon. You promised her a ride on the ferry, plus dinner. You gotta come through for Raine.
****
First, he headed home to drop off his uniform. Callahan spent a few minutes straightening up the place. He folded up the sofa bed and put the room to rights. His nose filled with Raine’s fragrance, a combination of her perfume, shampoo, and just a quintessential hint of her. He counted the hours until he’d see her and imagined a ride on the Staten Island Ferry.
And just like that, he knew where he could go to think and relax. Callahan headed for the subway, but en route, he bought a bottle of what his grandmother always called “white soda” to help settle his guts. He ended up at the South Ferry Station and climbed the stairs to enter the terminal. On a weekday morning, the crowds were light, and it wasn’t long before he joined those present in walking onto the deck. After a few minutes at the rail, he headed to
the upper deck and moved forward until he was as close to alone as possible.
The chill breeze blowing across the bay swept away the cobwebs in his head, and he inhaled the cool air with a series of deep breaths. Little by little, he calmed down, and when he did, his stomach eased, too. Everyone he’d ever loved had ridden the ferry with him at one time or another. He let the memories in and let them play across his mind. The ocean soothed away some of his uneasiness, and he decided he could handle the situation. He could—and would—keep Raine safe, no matter what it took. And to do so, he’d have to deal with Anthony’s death and tell Raine the story. Once he did that, he thought he could deal with the current scenario.
At Staten Island, Callahan spent a few minutes perusing the shops. He had decided he wanted to give Raine a small gift but he found nothing to suit his vague notions, so he rode the ferry back to Manhattan, then took the subway to Brooklyn. He headed for Green Wood Cemetery, the now-famous graveyard that drew tourists to the borough as well as mourners.
To avoid the curious, he entered through the gate at Fourth Avenue and Thirty-First Street and walked the rows to where his family lay. Although he paused at his mother’s resting place, offered a brief prayer at his grandmother’s, Callahan knelt down in front of Anthony’s headstone. He touched the granite with reverence and something close to affection. Beneath his fingertips, the sun-warmed stone almost seemed alive.
“Hey, bro,” he said. “I should’ve come here a long time ago but I haven’t, not since Aidan was buried beside you. And I need to say that I’m sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact it wasn’t my fault and make myself believe it. Kind of hard, when I still think it was.”
A breath of wind puffed against his face, and Callahan almost swore he heard whispered words, “It wasn’t.”
“Yeah? I hope not, but I’ve carried the guilt long enough. I got a girl now, Anthony, and she’s in trouble because of me. I gotta keep her safe, no matter what, so I gotta stay focused. I came out here today to let go of the guilt-trip.”
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