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“I’m not ashamed.”
“YOU WERE!” He took my wrists in one hand to hold them high, clamping his fingers tight around my throat. “Don’t follow me,” he growled. “Stay the fuck away.”
I rubbed my neck while he retreated, my hand on Casey’s back until she followed.
I hobbled my way along after him. My progress was slow and awkward, breath loud in my ears as I tried to follow in his footsteps.
A doggy whine alerted me to their location. It rang out just once, from my left, down by the bin storage.
“Callum?” I croaked. “Are you there?”
A security light glowed dull as I stepped into the trash yard. It was a stinky shithole, black bins pilled high along the walls. A couple of wheeled bins had been tipped on their side, spilling recycling waste across the tarmac.
“Callum?”
“You must have a fucking death wish.” The light here suited him, caressed the hard lines of his face.
“I won’t give up,” I said. “I love you too much.”
“Love my fucking cock, you mean.”
“I love more than your cock, Callum.”
He circled me like a lone wolf would hunt deer, eyes heavy and considered. “I’m a savage,” he said. “That’s what you want from me.”
“No.”
“You don’t know where I’ve been, what I’ve seen. Don’t know what I’ve done, Sophie. What I had to do to survive.”
“Stop it,” I snapped. “Please, Callum. Please let’s just go home.” I held out a hand but he didn’t take it.
“You wet for me? I bet you are. You like it fucking dangerous.”
“I like it at home,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“Wanna play hard, is that it?”
“I want to you to come home!”
“Home? Here’s my home, amongst the shit and the piss and the trash. Here’s whereIbelong, Sophie. Wanna see who I am?”
“I know who you are!” I hissed. “And I know I hurt you, I know that. I didn’t mean to!”
He pulled his hoodie off over his head. His chest was so fucking beautiful in that light. The darkness played with his tattoos, casting orange shadows over the plains of his chest. I sucked in my breath. He was so fucking beautiful. His abs rippled as he moved, the V of his hips trailing away under the low hang of his jeans.
“Run,” he growled.
“No.”
“You’d better.”
“Never.”
“I’ll hurt you. Tear you apart. Take what I want.”
I dropped my bag, shrugged off my jacket to leave me in just a flimsy blouse and a short skirt. “I’m yours.”
“You ain’t mine. Never have been.”
