Page 368

She lifts one shoulder. “I've taken self-defense classes.”

I stare at her. “How many?”

“A few.”

Smoke snorts.

Her head snaps toward him. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”

He holds up both hands and backs away. “Nope.”

I look between them. “How many is a few?”

Callie sighs. “Violet and I took them for years.”

Years.

“You never told me that.”

Her green eyes hold mine. “You don't know everything about me either.”

That lands harder than it should.

I've spent weeks giving her fragments of my job. My rules. My danger. Pieces of a life I never intended anyone to see.

And somewhere along the way, I started thinking I was the only one with hidden pieces.

“Why?”

Callie's expression changes.

Smoke looks away.

I immediately regret asking.

“Our childhood wasn't always great,” she says.

I wait. She doesn't elaborate. Neither does Smoke.

I don't push.

But I remember Callie telling me about Violet putting Smoke on his ass.

I remember Drew telling me Quinn women don't listen when someone tells them what to do.

I look at Callie differently. Not because I thought she was weak. I've never thought that.

I keep confusing sunshine with softness.

She can be both.

And apparently she knows exactly how to put someone on their ass.

“Could you take Mercer?”

Her eyes widen.

Smoke laughs.