White Knight (The Callaghan Green Series Book 2)

by Annie Dyer

  Forty-eight hours later, or nearing that, I’d had enough and I fixed us both in the car and took the roads to the wilds of Bodmin, home of the Beast and of ancient stones and henges, heather and bracken. It was a landscape as different from the city as the moon.

  She became silent as we approached, taking the car to a carpark near to Camelford and parking it up there. She had recovered well from the concussion; the headache having gone completely and the bruising beginning to fade. We’d struck lucky with the weather: the sky was again clear although there was a breeze. The moorland was barren, no buildings in sight once we started walking, just the heather and bracken and stone. It was like no other place I’d ever been, even during my time in the Marines. The rolling landscape and warm shades could appear bleak, but to me they’d been a sign of freedom: that even with all the industry and business and buildings, there were still parts of the land that couldn’t be captured.

  “This is incredible,” Claire said, after we’d walked for about half a mile. We’d taken a rucksack filled with food and the blanket to sit on. She had her book and camera and we’d both left our phones in the car. “You said there were wild ponies here.”

  “One of the few places left in the country where you’ll find them. I don’t know if we’ll see them today. I’ve only caught sight of them a couple of times.”

  “How often did you used to come here?”

  “Two or three times each summer once Nick had his driver’s licence. We’d camp over or stay in one of the derelict farmhouses if the weather turned. I think it added to our reasons to want to go in the military. Although we both loved the ocean, we liked having to survive just off the land.”

  “And now you run a business in the city,” she said, goading me.

  I shrugged. “I enjoy it. And I spend plenty of time out of the city too. It is good to be back here though.”

  We continued to talk as we walked; me about my parents and Nick, how he was managing with the twins and how he had changed since becoming their only parent. Claire spoke of her siblings, her worry over Seph and Ava and how she wished Max would meet someone who could manage his directness.

  “I don’t think he sees himself as being able to have a family,” she said as we climbed uphill, the moor stretching as far as we could see. “He sometimes makes decisions as if he was our father, all work based. Last year he cancelled a trip to the Dominican Republic with a woman he was seeing because a judge wanted to reschedule the court date. He was within his rights to say no and the judge would’ve worked around him.”

  I’d known Max for longer than Claire, having met him on our first day at college. She was right; he was driven by success and his work and he’d never had a girlfriend for longer than a couple of months because he grew tired of the time he needed to spend with them. “Maybe he’s just not met the right person yet,” I said.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think sometimes he blames dad for our mum’s death.”

  “You don’t?”

  She shook her head. “I remember mum being unhappy. I also remember seeing dad watching her, looking absolutely torn apart as to what to do. Marie told me he tried to get her to accept help from doctors for her depression, but she refused. I don’t know if Max knows that.”

  “Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

  “Maybe I should. There’s probably a lot I need to talk to him about. And Jackson. And we all need to talk to Callum.” She gave a little sigh and her eyes brightened. “What’s that bird? The one we’ve probably just disturbed.”

  I saw it fly off, recognised the flight pattern easily. “Skylark,” I said. “Do you want to take a break?”

  “Yeah. I think so. It’s been a long time since I’ve walked as much as I have in the past couple of days,” she said, stretching out a leg.

  “You live in London. And walk most places. Plus, you go to the gym,” I said, laughing at her discomfort.

  “Yes, to all that, but it’s different walking here. The paths aren’t even, you don’t walk constantly in London, it’s stop-start all the time. And I have a gym membership. That doesn’t mean I go that often,” she said, eyeballing me.

  I found a spot sheltered by a cairn of stones which acted as a natural windbreaker. The ground was fairly even, or as even as it was going to get and we were near to a narrow stream of running water that would be clean to drink. No one was around. The silence was high and massive, only broken by the faint rustling of the breeze through the bracken and the whistling of skylarks.

  The rucksack was heavy; by no means anywhere close as to what I would have with me when we were on land with the Marines, but I’d packed enough stuff so that if we wanted to stay out all day on the moor, we could. This time was precious: when we returned to London we’d be consumed with our jobs and our families and our friends. Having time together like this was a luxury I was aware we had to make the most of.

  Claire sat down on the blanket and accepted the coffee I poured from the flask. She was tense and preoccupied, so I kept my words to myself, not wanting to force her thoughts.

  “Sit behind me,” she said, scooting forwards.

  I straddled her back, providing her with my chest to use as a rest, which she did, sipping her coffee and watching the skylarks continue to dance.

  “This is just the most beautiful place.”

  “There are other places as beautiful, just in different ways,” I said, thinking of her in my bed. That was one of my favourite places.

  “Today,” she said. “I needed to be somewhere like this today.”

  I played with her hair with one of my hands, giving her contact. “Why today?”

  She inhaled deeply. “It’s thirteen years and a week since I didn’t return your last message and started to ignore your phone calls.”

  “You know it to the day?” I said, surprised. I was aware it was around this time of year that everything had ceased, but not to the date. I realised there was a more significant reason she remembered. “Tell me Claire. You can’t move forward until you’ve told me.”

  “We went home for summer late; do you remember?”

  I nodded. I did remember. We’d stayed right until the end of our housing leases. Claire had used the excuse she was starting to study for her second year, which was true as well, and I had said I wanted to make the most of being in Oxford and finding out a bit more about the MBA, which was becoming an option as I was seriously considering not leaving Claire. “We spent as much time together as possible.”

  “We did.” Her hand gripped the top of mine and brought it to her waist. “When I got home I kept being sick. I was moody and emotional. My brothers teased me something awful, especially Callum.”

  My brain analysed the memories I had of what her elder brothers had told me. If there’d been a serious illness I would’ve found out; there would’ve been no way the Callaghan’s wouldn’t have leaned on their friends if their sister was that sick.

  Claire carried on, her voice level, as if she was reading a story from a book. “Marie found me one morning after I’d been violently sick. She brought a pregnancy test with her.”

  It was at that point I felt myself freeze. My heart started to thump like a drum in my chest, a slow, heavy rhythm that I felt from my toes to the top of my head. The ability to move my hands or feet was lost and all I could do was hold her.

  “You were pregnant?”

  She gave a gentle laugh, one that must’ve taken years to perfect. “I was pregnant. I took two tests and both were positive. I was on the pill but I’d been taking antibiotics for the throat infection I’d picked up during my exams.”

  I didn’t speak for several minutes, unable to do anything more than touch her and touch the side of her head with my lips. The thought of her being pregnant with my child was overwhelming; the strength she had possessed even more so.

  “Has Marie been holding out from trying to murder me?” I eventually said.

  Claire’s laugh this time was softer. “She n
ever judged. We didn’t do anything wrong, Killian and she liked you. She still likes you. She’s wanted me to tell you this for years.”

  “How did you feel when you found out?”

  “Overwhelmed. Completely and utterly overwhelmed and I know you’re going to be hurt because I didn’t tell you but I had my reasons.” She took a long inhalation. “You would’ve been supportive. You would’ve taken the shit my brothers would’ve given you on the chin and my bet was that you’d have given up the chance to go in the Marines and I didn’t want you to have to do that. You knowing would have made the ultimate decision even harder.

  “I had to look at my future and as much as I loved what I had inside me as soon as I knew, and I knew my family would’ve supported me – I still would’ve continued with college and my degree and my job – it wasn’t what I envisaged. So, I made the choice to have a termination.”

  I heard her sob and then her choke it back. “I’m sorry, Killian. The guilt has eaten me up for years. I know I made the right decision and I know not telling you at the time was also the right decision. I have no regrets, but I still feel guilt.”

  Holding her was easy. I brushed the tears away from her face with one hand and touched her with the other, needing to keep both of us grounded. I held her until the sky changed and the clouds cleared and then I needed to clear my own head, make sense of what she’d told me. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

  She nodded. “As much time as you need.”

  I moved away from her and started to walk away, feeling the air around me and I realised I’d been half holding my breath.

  I could’ve been a father.

  I thought about my nieces and imagined me and Claire with a baby of our own, so young, so hopeful about our futures and I couldn’t see it. I carried on walking until I reached a group of large stones, possibly part of henge once, and I sat down, staring at the horizon. We had been so young and a baby would’ve been such a challenge. If I’d known, if we’d made that decision to go through with it and I’d still joined the marines, she would’ve practically been a single parent like Nick was now. If I’d have stayed and done my MBA I’d have had pressure to get an income quickly to look after them both and her plans would’ve been delayed. But we would’ve had a child that bonded us together forever.

  I wondered what she or he would’ve looked like, what sort of personality they would’ve had and I mourned the loss of someone I’d never had and then I mourned Claire’s loss because she’d done it on her own to try to protect me. She was the strongest person I knew and while I wished she’d have told me back then, I understood why she hadn’t and I accepted it. Right now, on the moor with nothing to distract me from the craggy landscape inside me, I understood and I could accept. It was part of us; part of our history, part of our past.

  Heading back, I felt lighter, clearer. She was looking up, watching me as I approached, her expression fearful and I knew she was worried I’d react badly to the choice she’d made. I stopped a few feet from her and paused, taking in how she looked, where she was, everything I could because I only got to say this once for the first time.

  “I love you.”

  She turned around, surprise in her face. “How can you after…”

  “Because I love you. I don’t think I ever told you that when we were together before, but I did then and I do now.”

  “The baby…”

  I moved to sit behind her and held her hands over her stomach, placing mine on top. “You know you could’ve told me. I might’ve joined the marines anyway, because that was what I should’ve done. We might’ve agreed that it wasn’t the right time to have a child and then the pressure of it might have split us up. I might’ve stayed and we’d have ended up hating each other because we were too young and both needed to experience other things and other people. You made the right decision for the right reasons at that time.”

  “How do you always know what to say?” she said, her tears abating.

  “Because I think first. I’m sad that you’re sad. Am I going to wonder what our child might have looked like? Probably. They’d be twelve now and in all honestly, I can’t imagine what having a twelve-year-old would be like right now.” The thought overwhelmed me, but I didn’t linger on it. It hadn’t happened, that wasn’t our present, so there was no need to dwell on the what-ifs. “Is today the date that…”

  “I had the termination? Yes. There are two dates I remember. This one, but less so each year. But I always remember when the due date might’ve been – I never knew for sure - and I take that day off work or go off for some time away. The choice I made will never sit comfortably with me, but I don’t regret it because it was made for the right reasons. I just always worried that you wouldn’t understand. That you’d resent me for making such a huge decision without you having a say,” she said, turning round to face me but staying in my arms.

  I gave her a half smile. “It was your body and you were the one who was going to be most affected.”

  “What would you have wanted?”

  “Honestly, Claire, I don’t know. I was twenty-one. If it was now, there would be no question about how I’d feel, but back then… I can only answer with hindsight and say you made the right decision for the right reasons.” I paused. “Did you hear me tell you that I love you?” I moved her hair from her face.

  She nodded. “I did.” She lifted her face and pressed her lips to mine. “I feel the same. I love you back and more.” I let her set the pace of the kiss. She tasted of coffee and the sweet air of the moor, her skin soft under my hands.

  We lay down on the blanket on our sides facing each other, hands exploring, fumbling through buttons and zips like we were teenagers. Her jeans were skinny ones and whoever had invented them hadn’t thought about how a man was going to get easy access down them. I jerked them down her hips so I could touch her pussy, finding it becoming wet.

  There was no one around right now, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be in another few minutes. As enjoyable as it would’ve been to expose her tits to the air and see how her nipples puckered in the light breeze.

  I spread her wetness over her clit and began to slide two of my fingers back and forward over it. She wasn’t close yet; her hands were still too careful with the zipper of my jeans, freeing my cock and playing with its tip where a drop of moisture had already formed. “Are you going to come for me?” I said quietly. “After you’ve come on my fingers I want to bury my cock in you.”

  She nodded, trying to spread her legs a little wider. I moved my hand, liking the moan as I pulled away and pushed her jeans further down her legs. Then my fingers resumed their rhythm, tiny gasps coming from her parted lips.

  Her orgasm was silent, her legs jerking, her hand clutching my cock as if holding it was stopping her from breaking apart. “I want you inside me,” she said, pushing her jeans completely off and leaving her bare from the waist down. My hand went to her ass and drew her closer. She put her left leg over my hip, opening herself up so I could line up my cock and enter her.

  The position was tight and didn’t give either of us much room for movement, just short shallow thrusts. My eyes were level with hers, barely blinking because I didn’t want to miss a single nuance in her expression. She was beautiful. She was mine.

  I grasped her ass harder, thrusting with more power. She had started to whimper, clinging on and I knew I was hitting the spot inside her, the angle designed to rub her clit.

  “I’m going to come,” she said, one hand around my neck, the other under my arm and on my back. She was tight and wet and warm and her pussy was clenching my cock as it spasmed.

  I came hard and deep inside her, feeling as if my balls were being pulled up into my stomach, there was that much ferocity in my orgasm. When we had both steadied, our breathing level, I stayed inside her, not wanting to lose the connection, wanting to stay close.

  “We’ve forgotten something,” she murmured, her eyes holding mine. “Condoms. It could happen a
gain.”

  “Is it a problem if it does?”

  She closed her eyes to try and hold back the tears I’d seen forming there. “No. Not for me.”

  “Then if it happens, it happens. I can beat up any of your brothers if they start.”

  She laughed and I felt myself getting hard again inside her and started to move. Her eyes widened. “Again? I thought this was only possibly in porn.”

  “To be fair, so did I,” I said, turning her onto her back.

  We lasted longer, my orgasm harder to reach after coming so soon before, but she got there again. We headed back towards the car, the couple of hours walk punctuated with her complaining about how wet she was between her legs, how she was walking like she’d ridden one of the moorland ponies and making plans for when we returned to London. We talked about restaurants we liked, bars, exhibitions that were on at the museums.

  By the time we reached the car, we’d passed the point where we’d been stuck.

  She’d finally told me.

  And everything was fine.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Claire

  “So, you’re officially a couple?” Vanessa said, manicured hands brandishing a knife and fork as she was about to attack a steak. “As in, not just sleeping together occasionally but going to be each other’s plus one, sit next to each other at Sunday lunch and you’re going to watch him play rugby on a Saturday?”

  “I’m not sure about the rugby thing…”

  “No, you have to. Jackson whines if I don’t go and it’s so boring watching them run up and down the field, although the view is pretty spectacular. If you come, at least I’ll have someone to have an intelligent conversation with as well as watching Jackson’s legs. And other parts.”

  I eyed my soon to be sister-in-law with disdain. “Being Killian’s cheerleader is not fucking top on my list of things to do, Van. I’ll see. And that’s the best I can do.”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Did you talk about why you split up the first time round?”