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Short enough that I can claim electrical issues with the security system and shut the whole thing down so her absence won’t be noted.
I drag her over me, kissing her hard and deep with the promise of what will be waiting for her when she gets back, something I intend to remind her of tonight, too, before she leaves.
So she’ll feel me between her legs with every move of her body the entire time she’s gone, so she’ll dream of me inside her the same way I have practically lived there the last few nights, so she won’t forget.
She won’t be able to.
Chapter Fifteen
CALLISTA
The heavy sense of dread that has sat solidly on my chest since I started my descent of Barker Mountain doesn’t get any better when Helena finally comes into view.
Why can’t I breathe?
Weston gave me exactly what I asked for.
He let me leave.
I practically begged for this, but something about it feels so damn wrong.
The farther away I drive, the closer I get to the house where I grew up, the nearer to Dad, to hugging him, to seeing that he’s actually all right, the more distance there is between me and the man who has somehow captured my heart and the place that now feels like home.
Everything is so twisted up in my head that I can’t tell what direction I’ve been facing or what’s wrong or right anymore.
All the danger that existed when Dad and I found that axe in the door still exists. It may even be worse because it’s been weeks, and apparently, whatever happened with the Rosewoods hasn’t been remedied in a way that wipes his slate clean. So, I should be happy about leaving the mountain and the graveyard that exists there, where Dad might very well find himself.
But the familiar buildings and surroundings do nothing to help soothe me. By the time I pull into the driveway at Dad’s house, I’m practically shaking.
I turn off the engine and climb from the car, staring up at the window that I used to look out every day, making plans for my future that certainly never included living on a mountain with a reclusive killer who is nearly twice my age.
Or falling in love with him.
God, things changed so fast…
And I have so little time here to try to weed through the bullshit and get answers from the one man who might actually give them to me.
I make my way to the door that still bears the deep gash the axe blade left, twist my key in the lock, and listen for the familiar click. Pushing the heavy wood slab open, I expect to feel an overwhelming sense of relief, but instead, tears form in my eyes, my chest tightening enough to make me stagger back against the door, forcing it shut.
Heavy footsteps sound on the tile, and Dad appears from around the corner in the kitchen, his eyes wide, jaw hanging open. “Callista, oh, my God, he let you go!”
He rushes toward me and tugs me to him, tightening his hold so much that it makes it impossible to breathe. I bury my face in his neck, accepting the warm embrace in the arms of the man who was always there.
When I scraped a knee or needed help with my homework. Bringing me a new book when he came home from a business trip. Offering advice when some stupid boy, who didn’t even matter, made me cry. Giving me literally everything I ever needed my entire life.
And this is exactly what I needed in this moment—confirmation that he’s all right.
Proof that Weston hasn’t been lying to me and keeping me in the dark about what’s happened to him. Though, there are clearly many, many other things he hasn’t told me.
Things I need to know.
Dad pulls back and searches my face. “What happened? Why are you here? I thought…”
I squeeze him to try to stop him from rambling. “I’m okay, Dad. He let me come see you. But…” I chew on my bottom lip, uncertain how to tell him this. “I have to go back. He said a day, two at most.”
One of his graying brows rises. “You think I’m letting you go back to that monster?” He clenches his jaw. “Absolutely not. I’m putting you on a flight, getting you as far away from here as possible. There’s no fucking chance I’m sending you back.”
Only a handful of weeks ago, I would have jumped at that offer and agreed. Now, it isn’t so clear-cut, and with such limited time to sort through the clusterfuck he’s gotten himself into, I need Dad to focus so I can get my answers.
