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Straightening his shoulders in what looked like resolve, Ryder turned from his brother to face me.

“Can we at least discuss this with Sarge? I promise you, if you want to leave, no one will stop you.”

It was impossible to doubt the sincerity in his voice. With a nod as my answer, I finished packing my bag, throwing Doggy in there for added comfort, and followed the boys out the door.

They could try all they want - they could plead and grovel and cry - but I would be going after Nik.

I would be going after my brother.

* * *

Sarge wasn’t homewhen we arrived at his house, but Calax was.

The giant of a man immediately engulfed me in his arms. His dark brown hair was longer than I remembered it, and a light scruff was beginning to form around his lush lips. Normally I wasn’t one to get all hot and bothered by facial hair, but with Calax, I had to make an exception. It could’ve been because I you-know-what him (that L-word that should never be said) or it could just be that my taste in men was expanding greatly. After all, I found all of Calax’s team ridiculously attractive in different ways.

Resting my head against Calax’s beating heart, I allowed myself to believe everything was okay. I was okay, Nikolai was okay, and these boys I had come to count on were okay as well. Didn’t I deserve this one win? Wasn’t it about time I got a happily ever after instead of a kick in my nonexistent ballsack?

Glancing at the other two guys, Calax pulled me away from them and into the kitchen. I was too stunned to do anything but allow him to drag me along like a strung-up puppet.

“Callie, I need to talk to you.”

Well that was what I tried to say, anyway, but the words never left my mouth because said mouth was suddenly preoccupied.

Calax’s lips were bruising on mine, hard and demanding, just like the man himself. I melted in his arms as I kissed him back, his large hands holding me as if he never wanted to let me go.

He loved me. He had admitted it to me only weeks earlier and had made sure to remind me every chance he had. It wasn’t just in words that he expressed his adoration towards me, but in his gestures and expressions. He would do anything for me, cross any ocean, face any hardship.

He loved me, and I lo...

Nope. Even though I felt it, I couldn’t think the cursed word.

Smiling contently, I made a little mewling sound in the back of my throat. I could die like this, wrapped in Cal’s embrace as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me.

A gasp made both Calax and me spin around.

Declan stood in the kitchen door frame, hand white from where it gripped the handle. A thousand emotions flittered across his face. Sadness, hurt, anger, helplessness, and then, finally, jealousy.

Declan was jealous? Of what? I tried to meet his eyes with my own, but he purposefully looked at his feet. For some inexplicable reason, I felt guilty, as if I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.

Why should I feel like this? Declan was my oldest friend, sure, but we had never been a couple.

Still, the pang in my heart refused to go away.

Motions brisk, Declan signed, “Sarge is here. Meeting in ten.”

Without another word, he hurried from the kitchen. Calax’s arms were still wrapped around me, and he peppered kisses across my cheekbones. I loved his kisses, loved being in his arms, but a wicked part of me craved another set of arms - or five or six.

I ignored that selfish voice and twisted in Calax’s arms. Smiling, I planted a kiss to his lips.

“Let’s go talk to Sarge. There are some things I need to say.”

* * *

My announcement was metwith silence.

I glanced from face to face trying to decipher each of their emotions. Asher, my sweet friend, looked anxious. Tam also wore a similar expression, though I was beginning to think that was his natural face. Ryder and Ronan exchanged long, eloquent glances. Declan was glaring at the wall, and Fallon merely stared at me, unblinking. Only Calax looked unconcerned, almost relaxed, as he leaned back on the sofa. Normally I would’ve been cool with the whole supportive boyfriend thing, especially when his girlfriend was a vindictive psychopath, but now, it only made me nervous.

“Is there a particular reason why you wish to travel to Atlanta?” Fallon asked, almost conversationally. I would’ve thought that he was fine if I haven’t seen his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. That seemed to hint at whatever emotion he wished to keep hidden.

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