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My mind was so tangled that the only words I could manage to put together were, “Who?”
Simon didn’t miss a beat. “Death Raiders.”
His silence stretched, and his contemplative eyes focused on the wood table in front of us.
I cleared my throat and tried to create more of a coherent sentence. “What changed?”
A heavy sigh left Simon’s chest as he took a long draw of his tea. Once he set it down he answered. “Can’t get into all that with you…just know, it’s a dangerous development.”
Simon slid backward, standing from the chair. I mimicked his movement, so I didn’t have to stare up at him.
“What I came here for is to tell you that I need you to keep an eye on Callie. I want her with you as often as possible. I know you both have been sneaking down to the cabin.”
My face flushed. If he knew why we were sneaking down there, he might just kill me.
“It’s fine. I trust you, Wes. You’re a good kid, and I know you love her. Here’s a key to the cabin. You take her there and you stay there. I have no idea what the fuck is happening here with your folks, but I’m asking you to move in. Tell her whatever you want to tell her, but keep her away from the main house. I have scouts on her while she’s working, but you need to be more aware of the danger. Also—”
He stood in front of me, staring me right in the eye as he handed me a nickel-plated gun.
I had hunted with my dad and grandpa from time to time, but we used rifles. I knew shit about handguns. Regardless, I wrapped my hand around it, accepting it from him.
“You’re gonna learn how to use this. I wanted to keep you clear of this shit, but you’re the best chance I have at keeping my daughter safe. Do you accept?”
Tucking the gun into the back of my jeans, I nodded. Sweat threatened to fall from my hairline, I only hoped it would stay in place. I wanted him to be able to count on me. Right as I went to shake his hand, my phone rang.
Callie’s name lit up the screen from where it sat on the table.
Simon’s eyes cut to the phone and smiled.
“She’s in your hands now, son. Keep her safe.”
* * *
“So my dad just gave you a key and you’re moving in?” Callie didn’t sound convinced.
I shrugged, unlocking the cabin door.
“I’m paying rent. Guess he was looking to rent it out since he doesn’t come back here much.”
She followed me inside. It was dark, but the light switch was immediately to my left. I flicked the lights, and the soft glow lit up the sparse space. Simon’s cabin was small, with a tiny love seat in front of the fireplace, a rocking chair adjacent to it, and just a small bookshelf with a spot for wood. The kitchen was practically connected to the living room, it was merely a square, big enough to turn around in. A fridge about as tall as Callie sat next to a tiny slice of counter, bracketed by the gas range stove. If you were to spin, you’d be at the shallow sink, deep enough to stash roughly three or four dishes and that’s it.
Directly on the other side of the sink was enough room for a small circular table and two chairs, then there was the bedroom door, which led to a room big enough for a queen-sized bed, and a bathroom where the toilet touched the shower and the simple porcelain sink. Everything about this cabin was small, but it would be a fucking dream compared to living at home in that huge, empty house.
Callie set her things down on the table with a sigh.
“So, my dad knows I’m staying here with you?”
I dipped to put a few logs into the wood stove before looking over my shoulder. “You could always ask him yourself.” Her relationship with him was rocky at best. She strove for his attention, even tried to fit in with the club from time to time, only to reject it with prejudice the next second. It was somewhat confusing to keep up with, but in her heart, I knew it all revolved around their relationship.
She laughed, moving to the kitchen. I had no idea what was in the fridge or cupboards. The last time I was here with her, we fucked for hours then passed out.
“I guess it could work. We’re almost eighteen, and you already graduated…”
She sounded like she was still trying to piece this whole thing together, which was crazy to me. She’d had zero structure growing up. Her dad was protective, but he rarely knew where his daughter was or what she was doing. My parents wereconstantlyasking where I was, how long I’d be gone and who I was with, and while at the time it was annoying, as I grew older, I could appreciate the boundaries it provided.
“And you have a job,” I added to her list of reasons why we could live here.
I moved from the fire that was now glowing in the wood stove and lifted her onto the counter, stepping in between her thighs.
