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Callum
I lift my head slightly from the headrest as Juniper pulls into the driveway. She insisted on driving and frankly, I didn’t have it in me to resist. It’s been eight hours since I shot Joshua and I’m just now getting home as the morning sun hangs low in the eastern sky.
Because of my head wounds, I was taken first to the hospital. And just because you’re a suspect in a shooting doesn’t mean you get treated any faster. I had to have a CT scan of my head, then it took forever to get someone to staple my wounds—two separate ones where Joshua hit me with the gun. I was given the all-clear with the diagnosis of a concussion and then put into the back of a police cruiser to be taken in for an interview.
Of course, Juniper was by my side the entire time at the hospital. Somehow, she managed to procure comfortable clothes for us as we weren’t able to change before we left the house. She was still in her clubbing dress and I was covered in blood.
The upside to getting pistol-whipped and needing medical care was that Brienne Norcross was waiting at the police station with not one but three formidable-looking attorneys to represent me when I arrived. I wasn’t able to talk to her as Juniper and I were led into separate interview rooms so our stories could be obtained. One attorney went with Juniper and two went with me.
None of that legal representation mattered though because I didn’t do anything wrong. I was in my house and had the legal right to defend myself and Juniper.
After four hours of interrogation, my attorneys finally called a halt to it. No charges will be filed against me but Joshua isn’t so lucky. The first set of crimes he’s facing, which can be amended pending further investigation, include kidnapping, assault and assault with intent to kill, although the DA is considering upping that last one to attempted murder.
Now we’re home and I don’t understand why there are two lines of cars, two deep, in the driveway.
“Who’s here?” I ask as we pull in behind a dark blue BMW7 series.
“Brienne arranged for some people to come over and clean up,” Juniper says as she puts the car in park and presses the garage door button for us to enter that way.
“Clean up?” I’m not sure why this doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m exhausted and my brain wants a vacation.
Juni reaches across the console and lays her hand over mine, which is resting on my thigh. “There was a lot of blood in the garage and bedroom, not to mention all the black dusting powder the crime scene people left behind.”
“Oh,” is all I can think to say, but I still don’t understand why there are four vehicles here to do that.
Juniper exits the car and I follow, my eyes drawn to the concrete where I sprawled after Joshua hit me. I don’t know how much blood was there, but it’s spotless now. I see a wadded-up ball of yellow crime scene tape in the garbage can and hear voices inside the house.
I follow Juniper and take in what is assuredly not only the cleaning crew but a welcoming committee. I smell something savory and my mouth waters as we move through the mudroom and into the kitchen.
Juniper is immediately drawn into hugs as I see Brienne, Drake, Jenna, Gage, Baden, Sophie, Cannon and Ava. Ownership and coaching staff. The cream of the Titans crop.
Luckily, the events of last night have not hit the news yet but it will most certainly be on the evening broadcast once Joshua is formally arraigned today. He’ll probably be out on bond by tomorrow though. But this crew inside my home knows because they’re close enough for me to share insider information, as evidenced by the fact they all jumped in to help me and Juniper return to a cleaned home and food on the table. It means the world.
Cannon is the first to move toward me with an outstretched hand. “You look like shit, Callum.”
“I feel like it,” I admit with a wry smile as I give him a clap on the shoulder in thanks for being here.
“We got everything cleaned up. Unfortunately, your carpet is pretty wet—it took a lot of effort to remove the blood. But it’s sparkling and we have fans in there drying it.”
“I can’t thank you all enough.” I don’t try to hide the rasp of sentiment in my voice. I look around at my friends—my coworkers, yes, but tonight my friends—and I speak from the heart. “I would not have wanted Juniper to walk back into that mess.” She moves to my side and puts her arms around my waist. “We’re blessed to have friends like you.”
The emotion is clear on everyone’s faces because none of us can look past the gravity of the situation. This all could have ended very differently, the worst-case scenario with Juniper and I dead.
Jenna breaks the heavy moment and points to the stove. “There’s a breakfast casserole we just took out of the oven. I also have a lasagna in the refrigerator that you can put in for dinner tonight.”
“Why don’t you all join us for breakfast?” Juniper says.
It’s Brienne who takes charge of the situation. Shaking her head, she says, “We’re going to get out of your hair. We’re not here to socialize and I’m ordering both of you to eat and then get some rest.”
A flurry of activity surrounds us as the women gather purses. The guys offer hugs and their partners kiss my cheeks as each couple exits through the garage and out to their cars. When the last person is gone, I shut the garage door and return to the kitchen.
Juniper is at the stove, plating up warm helpings of the casserole that looks to be eggs, potatoes, cheese and sausage. My stomach rumbles with approval.
We sit at the table and quietly eat while sipping on orange juice. No coffee because as soon as we eat, we’re taking long hot showers and crawling into bed.
My phone rings, startling both of us and I look down to see it’s Preston. Juniper sees his name too and raises her eyebrows. I shrug and connect the call on speaker. “What can I do for you, Preston?” I say in chilled greeting.
“I’m not going to be posting Joshua’s bail,” he replies.
