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“I'm going to be alright.” He presses a quick, fervent kiss against my lips and wraps his arms around me. I can feel his thundering heartbeat against my own. “I have too much to live for. I'm going to be fine. I'll be better and able to think clearer knowing you're safe. Your father will protect you until we're together again. I believe that.”
That doesn't stop him from looking over my shoulder toward Dad. “Are you carrying?”
“I have it in the glove box.”
“Hopefully, you won't need it, but I'll feel better knowing you have it.”
Dad tugs my elbow. “Honey, we should go now. This won't be forever.”
Right now? This second? Though I know it's the right thing to do, my feet don't want to move. “My things! I don't have anything with me!” I might as well be talking to myself as Dad drags me away toward his waiting car.
“As soon as it's safe, I'll send somebody with a bag,” Callum vows. “Everything's going to be okay.” He wraps his arms around Tatum, who I wave to before Dad practically throws me into the passenger's seat. I can't stop the sobs from tearing themselves from my chest as Dad gets in the car and turns it around, pointing it toward the road.
I twist around in my seat, desperate for one more look at Callum before the driveway bends, and I lose sight of him, of them.When will I see them again?
“It's going to be okay,” Dad grunts while he navigates the winding, gravel path. “We're going to get you through this. Everything will be fine.”
If I wasn't crying so hard, I'd ask who he's trying to convince, me or himself.
CALLUM
There she goes. Theretheygo. She's taking part of my heart with her. I doubt I could live through sending her away with anyone else. Romero, maybe, but that's as far as it goes. Charlie better hope he hasn't gotten rusty during his time away from the job, because if anything happens to her, I will paint this town in blood.
A cold breeze blows over me, chilling my skin. Tatum shivers in my arms. “Dad?” Her soft voice brings my thoughts back to her. “What should I do?”
She needs me to pull my shit together. I can't upset her by blowing up now. As calmly as possible, I respond, “I want you to go to your room and pack a few things while Romero and I make plans. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Okay. Is it safe in there?”
I turn to the pair of men exiting the house, my brows lifting in a silent question. “All clear,” one of them announces. “We got what was left of the device out through the back.”
“Go ahead–but don't waste any time.” With a kiss on her forehead, I send her inside with one of them while Romero mutters into his phone. I haven't seen him this intense since our time at the hospital. He ends the call and turns to me. “I just sent out word that we want Moroni. Both of them.”
Hearing the name twists my guts until I'm sure I'll be sick. Sick with rage, disgust, and disbelief. “A fucking bomb. Just when I think he can't stoop any lower.”
“He's a fucking animal.” Romero's face is a mask of rage once we enter the house, and he gets a good look at the damage. “He's going to find out how fucking animals die.”
I still can't make sense of it. “There was no way of knowing who would pick up that package,” I muse. There are bits of cardboard on the floor, most of it charred. At least the alarm has been silenced, allowing me to hear myself think. “How long do you think it would take to get an idea of the sort of device they used?”
“I'm sure I know somebody.” He looks at his phone again, scrolling through his contacts. “Though I have to say, I don't know how much good it will do. I doubt we could track whoever manufactured it, and it isn't like we have any doubt of who's responsible.” He checks the time, grunting in frustration. “She needs to hurry. I'll feel better once she's out of here. For all we know, they're planning to send guys in here now, while we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”
And there I was, prepared to propose. Ready to eat dessert, drink some coffee, and bid my future father-in-law goodnight before taking his daughter upstairs. I was going to spend the rest of the night basking in the warmth of her love.
The thought stirs my memory, and I dart to the kitchen, where I dropped the ring box when the bomb went off. A short search reveals it's lying under the table. To think, I had been moments away from placing the ring on her finger. The symbol of my devotion to her.
Now she's on her way to a safe house, because being too close to me is a liability, and I let Moroni go too far. I underestimated him, thinking he was nothing more than a useful idiot. I've done some unforgivable things in my life, but that underestimation has to be the worst.
“Boss? I have Costello on the phone.”
Sliding the box into my pocket, I join him in the hall. Sebastian's voice filters through the speaker loud and clear. “A bomb? Was anyone hurt?”
I exchange a look with Romero, that tells me he believes the concern is real. “No, everyone's fine. There's damage to the house but nothing severe.”
“I'm glad to hear that. It's a good thing Moroni's a fuck up, or else it might have been worse.”
“If you know anything…”
“I swear, I didn't know a thing. I would've warned you immediately if I had. I assumed it was Moroni because, you know. Everything that's been going on.”
