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“Yeah. I work from home sometimes and I’ve had to reboot the system a time or two.”
Callum pulls out the chair for me and I settle into it. It seems far too cramped when he puts one hand on the back of it and the other on the corner of the desk, hovering over me as I log into the security program.
I’ve never actually tried to access the saved digital files before but the program is pretty intuitive and a few clicks have me in the proper folders. I choose the one dated yesterday, knowing that the digital files are saved in one-hour increments.
When the folder opens, I gasp. “It’s empty.”
“Fuck,” Callum growls. “Go to the day before.”
I close out of that folder and open the one he mentioned. And right there staring at us are all the files. He doesn’t even ask me to, but I open a few more folders and the videos are all there.
The only one empty is the day that Lila was hurt.
“What do you think?” Callum asks, and I twist my neck to look at him. We’re so close that he could kiss me if he leaned forward a few inches.
Not that I’d ever let him and not that he’d want to.
His eyes are troubled and beseeching for an answer. He wants me to validate what he’s thinking. The fact the files have been deleted is proof something nefarious happened.
I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid to voice it aloud, but it doesn’t matter because his attention is caught by something else.
His gaze drifts over my temple and I realize I unwittingly brushed my hair back as I maneuvered the mouse around. Eyes narrowing, he leans in closer to study what is clearly a bruise under the makeup.
My reaction is damning. I brush my hair forward with my fingertips and attempt to turn away from him. His hand latches onto my wrist, pulling it down. With his other hand, he pushes my hair back and quietly inspects my face.
“Stand up,” he says in a dark growl.
“What? No.”
Using his leverage, he pulls me out of the chair. Not roughly, and his grip on my wrist doesn’t tighten. It’s a gentle tug that I give in to.
“I may not have known you in recent years,” he murmurs reflectively, his regard moving to the scarf at my throat, “but you’re not the type to wear something like this.”
Before I can even think to jerk away, he pulls the material down and exposes the bruises on my throat.
“What in the ever-loving fuck is that?” he demands loudly, as close to a yell as one can get.
This time I do wrench free, moving behind the chair to put distance between us. “It’s none of your business,” I manage to stammer.
“The fuck it isn’t,” he snarls, lunging to take my wrist, presumably to pull me closer for another look.
I’m startled, having had Joshua make such a move, which was usually followed by a strike. I know in my heart Callum would never do that as he doesn’t have a violent bone in his body, but my arms fly up to protect my face.
Callum mutters a string of curses when he sees my reaction and comes to a dead stop. But he doesn’t leave me alone. Instead, he reaches out and folds my hand gently within his. “Come on.”
He tugs me along and my legs move, following behind him based on nothing but pure trust in the man I once loved. “Where are we going?”
“To talk,” he says. “Apparently, I have some catching up on how the Willard family is doing.”
CHAPTER 5
Callum
“Where are we going?” Juniper asks as I lead her out of the IT room.
“My hotel.”
“I am not going there with you,” she says, pulling her hand free.
