“Ma’am, if you don’t get your niece in line, we’ll have to bring her down to the station,” badged-asshole-number-one warns, his hand hovering near his belt.
“I’d like to see you fucking try…” I threaten, my words climbing high in surprise, when I’m hoisted over someone’s shoulder fireman style.
It’s only when I notice the flannel and more condensed foresty smell that I realize it’s Connor. Apparently, I was so focused on Tweedles Dee and Dumb that I didn’t notice when the guys arrived.
While Connor hauls me off toward the house without a word, Nolan slides into my now vacated spot with a charismatic smile and possibly some vampire voodoo, because the officers seem to relax immediately in his presence.
“Let’s take a breath,” he encourages, his hands casually in his pockets and posture inviting. “It’s been a trying morning for everyone, so tempers are bound to run high.”
“Don’t apologize for me!” I bellow, my trailing shadow resembling a troll doll. “I bet they don’t find shit. They couldn’t find their asses with both hands and a flashlight!”
Connor’s whole body shakes with suppressed laughter, and I smack his back, the hard muscles not giving at all.
“It’s not funny!” I grunt, trying to leverage myself more level than hanging ragdoll. “They’re worthless!”
Connor doesn’t respond, which isn’t surprising, but when I continue to kick and squirm, he does pull me down to his chest, with one arm around my back and the other across my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, if only so I’m not some dangling idiot.
“Both hands and a flashlight?” Donovan chuckles, opening the front door for Connor, and subsequently me.
“Fuck them,” I curse, so much adrenaline pumping through me I’m practically seeing red. “And fuck you too!”
“Fuck me?” Donovan grunts, him and Kaleb following us inside of the house. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” I bark, my fingers digging into Connor’s back.
“Okay,” he replies, the word elongating to encompass how crazy I sound, while he leans against the kitchen counter. “What the hell happened? You were fine when we left.”
Felix pops in at that moment, his initial expression of disappointment shifting to one of confusion. “Uh, the um, CSI dude just finished. He collected a few samples, but it doesn’t look like they really found anything.”
“That,” I yell, pointing sharply at Felix. “That’s why I’m mad. I knew they were worthless!”
“You knew ahead of time…” Kaleb starts to ask, but I interrupt him.
“You know what? Fuck ‘em. Let him come! The psycho is welcome to try me on. He’s in for a rude awakening when I take whatever he has and keep right on going after him.” Whipping my head toward Donovan, I demand, “I need to train more.”
“Sure, we can do that,” he replies slowly like I’m a wild animal about to rip his arm off.
Honestly, he’s not far off the mark. I want to tear someone apart with my teeth. I want to destroy. I want to make sure no one ever fucks with me again. The wind picks up, starting to rattle the windows, and my breaths are harsh gasps of unquenchable rage.
Felix tries to say something, his eyes wide and his brows drawn down in helplessness, but all I can hear is the thundering of my heart.
“He won’t hurt anyone again,” I promise, meeting his gaze, tears spilling over my lashes. “I won’t let him. I won’t!”
My face contorts, the tendons of my throat straining, with a pain that has no name. It reaches from deep inside me to meld with my rage, stealing my breath and leaving me choking.
Connor squeezes me tight, his arms solid around me. I cling to him like I’m drowning, my hands clenching fistfuls of his shirt so tight that I can feel my nails bite through the fabric into my palms.
Kaleb reaches up, brushing my hair from my face, a wealth of compassion emanating from his warm brown eyes.
“Who, Callie?” Kaleb murmurs gently, his thumb catching my renegade tears. “Who won’t hurt anyone again? Are we still talking about Felix?”
From that cautious probe for the truth, the locks break. Everything I pushed down pours out of me like putrid poison manifesting itself in unending tears. Connor walks me from the kitchen and sits down on the L shaped couch, adjusting me so my head now comfortably rests against his shoulder facing toward the other guys. My legs are still wrapped around his waist and dig into the back couch cushions, but I don’t care.
He runs his hand up my back, carefully pushes my hair to one side, and starts massaging light circles behind my ears, murmuring comforting words in Spanish. I don’t know what they mean, but his tone is low and soft, the sounds of safety.
“It’s time, pretty girl,” Felix pleads, squatting near Connor’s feet and looking up into my eyes. “You don’t have to tell them everything, but they need to know how bad it really was.”
“I don’t…” I sniffle, my vision blurry from my tears. “I don’t want you all to look at me differently.”
