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I hold the letter out toward him, hating the way my hands tremble.
"Son of a bitch." He drops the letter, dragging me into his arms. "They aren't going to get close to you, Firefly. I'll destroy anyone who fucking tries." Pure murder seethes in his tone, vibrating just below the surface.
"It's not witchcraft," I mumble. "The poems I sell with the water aren't spells. They're just kitschy love poems. The crystals and gemstones and remedies…all of those are things my family brought over from Ireland. My grandpa grew most of the flowers and herbs. My granny taught me how to mix the salves and ointments. It's herbal remedies, that's it."
"I know, baby. I know."
"I don't understand why someone is doing this. Why do they hate me so much? I'm just trying to survive. Is that so wrong?"
"Fuck no," he rasps in my ear, tilting my head back until my watery eyes meet his. "You don't deserve any of this, Hope. Whoever is doing it isn't doing it because you deserve it. It's not because of anything you sell in this shop or because of who you are. It's because of what they want from you. They're trying to break you down so you have nowhere to turn except to them."
Would Silas really do all of this just because he has a thing for me? I can't imagine it…but maybe that's because I don't want to imagine it. I've known him since I was ten years old. The fact that he has a crush on me makes my skin crawl, but I never thought he was dangerous. Maybe I just didn't see it, though. Maybe I'm just as blind as my mom was.
Or maybe it is Thomas Huntington, trying to force me into selling my land. If he takes my business from me, I won't have a choice but to sell. Is he the one trying to destroy me? Would his company go that far to get my family's land? I don't know.
"They miscalculated, Firefly." Callum runs his thumb across my bottom lip, his expression soft. "Whoever it was thought they could scare you into running to them, but you don't break easily. You don't scare easily. You don't need anyone to save you. You save yourself."
He's right…but he's wrong too.
"I've always relied on myself. I didn't have a choice." I swallow the lump in my throat. "My granny was diagnosed with terminal liver disease when I was fourteen. The first few years were okay. She didn't need much help. But by the time I finished high school, I took care of her more than she took care of me. There wasn't anyone else to step in and do it. We barely scraped by, but we made it.
"Her life insurance helped ensure I wouldn't end up on the streets. I was able to pay her medical bills, buy Betty, and lease the shop downtown. If I lose it, I'll lose everything, Callum." Tears well in my eyes, spilling over. "That's why I went to Cormac. This time, I can't save myself."
"You don't have to, Hope." He cups my cheeks, collecting the tears that spill down my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. They can't break you. I'll crawl through hell before I allow that to happen."
I want to ask why he's willing to fight so hard for me…but I already know the answer to that question. It's right there in his eyes, reflecting back at me like stars.
He's in love with me.
Chapter Eight
Callum
Once Hope calms down, she retreats to the stockroom to get some work done while I start going through the security camera footage to see what I can find. I also call Dillon so he can send someone over to pick up the note. He tells me to put it aside, stop touching it, and he'll be here to get it before noon.
I texted Finn before we left the house to ask him to look into Silas and Huntington. Since his wife is eight months pregnant, they didn't go to Daytona with the rest of the MC. His office isn't far from here, so he said he'd stop by this morning so we can talk. I'm still going through the camera footage when he raps on the door.
I pause the video feed and scoop Kieve up from the floor before strolling to the door to let him in. The shop won't open for another hour, but Hope works her ass off. She's here early every day to package orders that need to be mailed out to online customers and do the eighty other things that come with running a business.
Kieve growls at Finn when he ducks through the door into the shop, cursing when his glasses immediately fog up. He pulls them from his face, eyeing the little dog in my arms with a shit-eating grin.
