CALLUM A gust of warm air whooshes into my face as I push through the door to exit the squad complex, the summer sun beating down relentlessly overhead. Weâre in the middle of what feels like an endless heat wave. The grass of the practice field is crunchy underfoot as I step out onto it, dying of thirst and begging for rain, and despite the fact that I just showered off the sweat I worked up while training, my t-
shirt is already clinging to my body like a second skin by the time I reach the outer gate to head for the parking lot.
âYo Cal, wait up!â a voice calls from behind me, and I swivel to see Logan jogging my way, his clunky motorcycle boots thudding against the ground.
I pause to wait for him, idly twirling the keys to my Corvette around a finger.
He flashes me a smile as he approaches, two rows of straight white teeth gleaming and a pair of dimples sinking into his cheeks. Handsome fucker. âThink you can find some time this week to finish my chest piece?â he asks, fingers trailing over his left pec where heâs sporting my ink beneath his shirt.
âYeah, for sure. My scheduleâs wide open these days.â I rake a hand through my hair. â Just let me know when youâre up for it.â
His eager grin widens. âShit, Iâd do it right now, but Iâm headed to Westfield to see Jax and Quinn.
Maybe tomorrow?â
âSure,â I shrug, though truthfully, Iâm just as eager as he is. Iâve been fucking around with my tattoo gun on myself for a while now, but the only other person Iâve ever tattooed is Nessa. That is, until Logan and I got to talking about our ink while we were away on the mission. When he found out Iâd done it all myself, he asked if Iâd do one for him, and I jumped at the chance. Thereâs just a certain thrill that comes with seeing my art come to life on someone elseâs skin.
Logan claps me on the shoulder and the two of us start toward the parking lot, falling into an easy stride with one another. âSo can we count on you for the next mission?â he asks, swinging his gaze to me. âThe IT unit thinks they may have identified another offshoot of the shadow pack, wants to send a team to investigate.â
âNah, man,â I grumble. âThink Iâm gonna stick around here for a while.â
He arches a brow in surprise, stopping short in front of his motorcycle parked at the curb. I swivel to face him as I palm my keys.
âAny particular reason?â he asks, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.
Yeah, Logan knows about Ness. He was tasked with leading the mission, and heâs the one person on our team that I really connected with- weâve got a lot in common.
with our mutual passion for art and ink. He noticed all my sketchbooks lying around the dingy motel rooms we holed up in while we were away, and when he thumbed through one, he happened to see a sketch or two of!!!! my muse. Or fifty. I canât help that all my recent sketchbooks are full of her face.OTR He doesnât wait for me to answer because he already knows. âYou get her back yet?â
âWorking on it,â I grunt.
Logan gets a mischievous glint in his eye, his smirk deepening. âWas that what you were doing at the swimming hole yesterday?â 3 Shit, Iâd actually deluded myself into thinking Nessa and I had been discreet. Then again, I canât remember the last time I drank that much- itâs not exactly like I was firing on all cylinders when I jumped her in the water.
I reach up to rub the back of my neck, wincing. âYou saw that?â
âYou two all over each other?â he snorts.
Yeah, hard to miss.â
While a natural reaction would probably be to feel something akin to embarrassment, for some reason, I get a surge of smug satisfaction, my wolf preening with pride for publicly staking our claim. Not that I have any right to, not after the way I left.
âI still donât know where we stand,â I admit, heaving a sigh. âWe were both a little drunk yesterday. I have a feeling she might have woken up this morning with second thoughts.â
âAh, youâll figure it out,â Logan says with a cavalier grin. âTake her out to a fancy dinner or buy her something nice. Girls love that shit.â
I shake my head, chuckling wryly. If only it were that easy. âNot this girl,â I mumble.
Even if I could afford to do that, Nessaâs not the type to be impressed by flashy presents or fine dining.
Itâs more about the little things with her. Sheâd take a scenic view over a stuffy restaurant any day, or a drawing out of my sketchbook over expensive jewelry. The things that make her eyes light up are the ones you canât put a price tag on.
Logan shrugs, stepping up to his motorcycle and kicking a leg over. âFind another way to get back on her good side, then. Youâll think of something.â He starts the engine, the deep hum vibrating through my body as he revs it a few times. âFlowers usually help, all girls like flowers. Thereâs a floral shop in Summervale.â I wrinkle my nose at his suggestion and Logan shrugs again.
Whatever you decide to do, do it soon, before she has a chance to sit and stew about yesterday. You know how girls overthink shit.â
âYeah,â I agree, pushing my hair back off my forehead, already damp with sweat after spending ten fucking minutes out in this oppressive heat. âIâll think about it.â
He gives me a nod as he flicks up the kickstand with a boot, rolling away from the curb. âGood luck,â he calls, shooting me a grin over his shoulder. âIâll call you about that ink tomorrow.â
I lift my chin in acknowledgement, turning away to head for my Corvette as I hear the roar of the motorcycle engine rumbling away.
Iâm not sure when I decided to start soliciting relationship advice, but Iâve gotta admit that the dudeâs got a point. The longer I wait before seeking out Nessa, the longer sheâll have to overanalyze what happened yesterday; the longer sheâll have to decide that she regrets it. If I want to win her back- and I do- then then Iâll need to head that off.
Guess itâs time to come up with a plan.
âWhat are you doing here?â Nessa asks cautiously, clutching the edge of the heavy wooden front door of the Norbury packhouse like a shield as she peers out at me from behind it.
âTaking you out.â I square my shoulders. and deliver the line with a confident swagger, but itâs all false bravado. Iâm nervous as hell about how this is goin to go.
My throat is dry, my palms are clammy, and my heart is pounding so hard that it feels like itâs about to burst from my chest and splatter into to a pulpy mess at my feet. 2 The Cal from six months ago would slap the shit out of me right now for being such a pussy and getting all awkward and nervous around a girl. This isnât just any girl, though. Nessaâs my girl. If sheâll have me.
2 Her eyes drop to my side, widening in curiosity, and only then do I remember whatâs currently clutched in my hand, half hidden behind the back of my thigh. I lift the small bouquet of white flowers, thrusting them toward her in offering. âGot these for you.â
Nessaâs face lights up as she reaches out to take them from me. âAw, I love carnations,â she breathes, her lips pulling into a bright smile as she fingers the soft white petals. Theyâre seriously underrated.â
Carnations? I couldâve sworn they were peonies, but then again, itâs not like I know much about flowers or have ever bought them for someone before. I didnât even think to ask the florist at the shop in Summervale what kind they were; I just went in there and asked for the biggest bouquet I could get for the rest of the cash I had in my wallet.
Admittedly, I didnât have much, but for the amount of flowers I ended up walking out with, I thought I was getting a deal.
Which reminds me, I need to ask Brady if heâs got any work for me at the garage while Iâm waiting for my stipend from the mission to hit my account.
Nessaâs eyes meet mine, long lashes fluttering. âTheyâre beautiful,â she smiles, pulling the door open wider and taking a step backwards. âJust let me put them in some water. Câmon in.â
Thank you, Logan. 5 I step inside while Nessa carries the flowers into the kitchen, fumbling in the cabinet for a tall glass and filling it at the sink. âSo where are you taking me?â she asks over her shoulder as she puts the flowers in the glass of water and arranges them just so, fussing over the way they fan out.
âYouâll see.â
She spins around, eyeing me suspiciously, but I keep my expression neutral, not giving anything away.
âFine,â Nessa relents, crossing in front of me to grab her shoes from beside the door. She bends at the waist to slip them on her feet, giving me a nice view of her ass in the little white pair of denim shorts sheâs wearing. She catches me staring when she pops back up, her cheeks flushing pink. â Ready?â
I nod, stepping aside and gesturing for her to exit ahead of me. I swear itâs not to get another glimpse of her ass, but itâs not my fault my gaze immediately drops to drink in another eyeful. It really is a perfect ass, perky and round. I get the flash of a memory of squeezing it in my hands, my fingertips sinking into her flesh as I bent her over and pounded into her. My cock thickens beneath my zipper and I subtly adjust myself as I step outside behind her and close the door.
The two of us head down the front walk toward the driveway, and Nessa stutters a step as we approach the Corvette, her expression twisting. It doesnât register at first, but bile crawls up my throat when it hits me that sheâs probably associating my car with that stupid bet I made with Miles.
I still remember the first time she saw the Corvette parked at the curb outside her parentsâ house. Her eyes lit up, and it struck me how despite its flaws, she truly appreciated the beauty of the old, restored car that I had poured so much sweat and effort into. When she climbed in, I remember how she took in every detail of the dilapidated interior, running her fingers over the old leather seats reverently. And when I started it up, I saw her shiver of excitement at the purr of the engine, the delighted smile on her face when we hit top speed on the forest road.
She used to admire this car, but now she eyes it with apprehension, all the good memories painted over by the dark, ugly stain of my betrayal.
âHey.â I reach for Nessaâs hand, lifting it and pressing my keys into her palm. â Wanna drive?â
Her jaw goes slack, her eyes widening in shock as they ping between the set of keys in her hand and my face. âReally?â
I nod, and she turns to look at the Corvette, her expression slowly shifting from apprehension to excitement. âBut this carâs like your baby,â she points out. âYou sure you trust me behind the wheel?â
It wasnât easy to hand over the keys. Honestly, the thought of anyone else behind the wheel of this car makes me a little bit queasy, but I shove that down because Iâm really trying here. Itâs a gesture, one that Iâll hope she understands for what it really is.
âThatâs been the problem all along, hasnât it?â I murmur, looking down at the keys in her hand and closing her fist around them. I lift my gaze to stare into her eyes earnestly. You gave me your trust before, but I didnât give you mine. I shouldâve trusted you with my secrets and let you make your own choice. And I shouldâve trusted myself to keep you safe rather than just bailing out on you.â I reach up to touch her face, running my thumb gently along the curve of her jaw. Her throat bobs beneath my knuckles with a hard swallow. âI know I fucked up everything when I left, but Iâm trying to make it right.
Figured the first step is establishing trust.â I flick my head toward the Corvette. âSo whaddya say?
Wanna take her for a spin?â (6 The corners of Nessaâs mouth tip up, a smile slowly, beautifully, spreading across her face. I feel her little tremble of excitement beneath my fingertips, see it spark in her warm brown eyes. âLetâs do it.â
She rounds the hood of the car for the drivers side while I open the door and drop into the passenger seat, feeling completely out of place on this side of the Corvette. I watch Nessa climb in behind the wheel, her long tan legs slipping inside, her lithe fingers gripping the key as she turns it in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life beneath us. I feel the deep, smooth purr of it down to my bones every time, my pulse picking up speed. 2 My throat tightens when she shifts the gear and backs the car out of the driveway. Itâs not that I donât trust her with my car- I do- itâs just that this vehicle is one of the few things in this world that I give a shit about, and relinquishing control of it ha me tightly wound, my hands curling into fists in my lap and my knuckles going white.
âThis is killing you, isnât it?â Nessa giggles from beside me, darting me a glance and clocking the tight set of my jaw and balled fists.
âOnly a little,â I admit, shooting her a wry smile. I tip my head toward the windshield.â Eyes on the road, babe,â
She rolls those eyes of hers instead, shifting the gear at the end of the driveway and lurching forward down the street.
My lungs constrict.
âWhich way?â she asks, braking a little too hard at the stop sign.
I fight back a cringe, throwing a thumb to the left. She takes the turn, and I lean forward to hit the button for the radio, cranking up the volume to calm myself by filling up the quiet with a heavy Slipknot song.
I direct Nessa out of Norburyâs territory until weâre on the main forest road, still not giving up our destination. She takes a few of the turns a little too fast for my liking, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the ceiling of the car, which she finds fucking hilarious. Although my heartâs in my throat, her giggle soothes my nerves like music to my ears. Nessaâs laugh is one of the things I missed most about her while I was away, and Iâll trade my discomfort for her happiness any day.
I point her to a road that leads up the mountain, cautioning her to slow down since itâs a narrow one-
lane road with sporadic places to pull off to let other cars through. Thereâs hardly ever any traffic, but the last thing I want is for her to chance it by going too fast and send the Corvette tumbling over the edge. The boys and I used to come up here to smoke sometimes, and thereâs a killer view up at the top that I know Nessa will appreciate. If we can make it there in one piece.
âSlow down,â I instruct as we near the peak, barely restraining myself from reaching over and grabbing the wheel. âThe road ends right up there.â
âI see it,â she grumbles, punctuating her words with another eyeroll. She does slow down, though, and when the Corvette finally rolls to a stop and she cuts the engine, I blow out a long breath, my muscles sore from being bunched so tensely the whole way here. 1 I reach down to unfasten my seatbelt, throwing it off my shoulder. âCâmon,â I urge, opening the door and twisting at the waist to step out.
Nessa follows suit, climbing out of the driversâ side and meeting me in front of the car.
âEver been up here before?â I ask, and I grin when she shakes her head, taking her hand in mine and tugging her forward.
We reach the rocks at the edge in a few strides, and I hop up onto the top of the stony plateau, offering her a hand to help her up. As soon as she climbs up to join me and looks out at the scene spread before her, Nessaâs eyes round in awe, her jaw going slack.
âOh my gosh,â she breathes, her head on a swivel as she takes it all in.
Iâve sworn off bets, but Iâd wager that this is one of the best views in the whole six-pack territory. From this vantage point, you can see the swell of nearby mountaintops and the snow-capped peaks of those in the distance. The lush foliage of the forest is spread out below, teeming with life, and the wide river that borders Stillwaterâs territory stands out in contrast, a winding thread of sapphire blue.
âWell?â I ask, eyes focused on her face as she drinks in the view before her.
âItâs amazing,â Nessa murmurs closer to the edge.
My protective instinct flares up inching and I re out to grab her arm, tugging her back before she can take another step. âCareful,â I warn, nodding toward the edge. âThatâs a long drop.â
She turns back to me with a smirk creasing her lips. âSo you didnât bring me out here to kill me?â she jokes.
I flinch.
I donât mean to, and itâs the barest of movements, the slightest tic of my jaw. If she blinked, sheâd miss it. She doesnât, though. The smile drops from her face, her cheeks flushing. âShit, sorry, I didnât mean â¦â Nessa rushes out, stumbling over her words. âI was just kidding around, I didnât thinkâ¦â
âI know,â I say, cutting off her rambling apology with a shake of my head. âDonât worry about it.â
She steps closer and grabs my hand, covering it with both of hers. âI wasnât even thinking, Callum. I swear I didnât mean anything by it.â
âI know you didnât.â I give her hand a squeeze before tugging mine away, taking a step backwards and easing down onto the smooth rock below. I kick my legs out in front of me, spread and bent at the knee, resting my elbows on top and looking up at her with a beckoning tilt of my head. â Wanna sit?â
Nessa hesitates for a moment, her eyes mapping out the space beside me on the rock plateau. She doesnât drop down beside me, though- instead, she steps in front of me, spinning around and lowering herself to sit between my legs. I reach forward instinctually to wrap my arms around her as she eases down, guiding her descent and settling her back against my chest.
âSorry,â she whispers again as I wind my arms tighter around her, burying my nose in her hair.
Her cherry and floral scent is like a drug. I breathe in deeply, dragging it into my lungs, filling myself up with it. Just being close to her does something to me. Itâs almost as if she pours her light into me, chasing away the darkness within.
The wicked summer heat isnât as oppressive at this elevation, but Nessaâs warmth radiates from every point of connection between our bodies, her legs resting loosely against the insides of mine, her back pressed firmly against my chest.
âItâs so quiet up here,â she observes, idly tracing her fingertips along my forearm clutched around her middle. âDoes that bother you?â
âNot when Iâm with you,â I admit, dragging in another lungful of her sweet scent.
Trust.
Thatâs the word on repeat in my head as I hook my chin over her shoulder, staring out at the snow-
capped mountains in the distance. âMy mom was pregnant with me when she met Troy,â I begin, forcing the words past my lips. âMy biological dad was a random hookup from her home pack back in Oregon, and he didnât want anything to do with me. My mom was going to raise me on her own, but then she was visiting a friend in this pack and stuck around for the full moon run. Thatâs how she met Troy, theyâre fated mates.â
Nessa continues stroking her fingertips along the skin of my arm, listening quietly.
âTroy never wanted me either. Guess I was just a living, breathing reminder that my mom was with someone else before him.
And having a kid of their own the following year only made it worse, because he was the son they both wanted.â I pause before going on, my gut twisting. Iâve only ever told Alpha Vaughn this part, but even he only got the highlights.
âThe first time Troy locked me up to punish me was after I pushed Spence and he fell and cut his forehead. Troy didnât scream or hit me or anything, just shoved me in this dark room in the basement and locked the door. Said it was my âtime outâ.â
Nessa draws a short gasp, her body tensing in my arms. âHow long did he make you stay in there?â
âThat time?â I chuckle dryly. âA few hours, maybe. I was just a little kid, so it felt like forever. Until the next time, when Spence and I got in a fight over a toy and I hit him. My punishment for that was a full day in time out.â
Nessa turns to look at me over her shoulder, her mouth hanging open and her eyes rounded in shock.
âThatâs why I donât like the quiet,â I supply. âWhy I have trouble sleeping when itâs dark. It just⦠fucked with me, being shut up in there so many times. Made me angry. Made me lash out. And every time I did, Iâd just get thrown in there again.â
âWhat about your Mom?â Nessa asks, eyes shining with the hint of tears.
I shake my head. âShe turned a blind eye. She knew what he was doing, but she never stopped him.
Said it was for my own good.â
Her lip curls in disgust. âThatâs horrible.â
I shrug. âIt is what it is. It stopped when I was big enough to fight back, when Troy couldnât physically throw me in that room. anymore. The worst parts of it stuck with me, though. The dark. The quiet. And I feel like thereâs this⦠thing inside me now. When I get really mad, I canât control it. Itâs like a piece of that darkness clawed its way into me and never left.â I swing my gaze on her, pinning her under its intensity. âLike that night we went to see that band. The morning in the kitchen with Miles. Something just snaps in my brain and I canât turn it off.â
âBut you did,â Nessa points out. She gives my arm a little squeeze. âBoth times, you stoppedâ¦â
âBecause of you.â I lift a hand, thumbing her plush lower lip. âSomething about you pulls me out of it.
And that shouldâve been enough of a sign for me that I wouldnât lose control with you, that I wouldnât hurt you, but I couldnât see that at the time. I let Troy get in my head, twist everything up. Make me doubt myself.â
âI knew there was something off about him,â Nessa mutters.
I heave a sigh. âOnly a monster can create another monster.â
She shakes her head, planting her palm on my thigh and using it for leverage as she twists around in my lap, throwing her legs over each of mine to straddle me. She takes my face in her hands, staring into my eyes with so much sincerity that my heart constricts painfully in my chest. âYouâre not a monster, Callum,â Nessa says gently. âYou were abused. Youâre a survivor.â 1 Her words fall over me like a soothing balm, but I canât fully absorb them. Not when I know what I am;
what Iâve done.
âIâm not trying to make excuses, I wanted to tell you about my past, my whole past, because Iâve never trusted anyone else with it,â I say, my eyes intently focused on hers. â And I want you to know what youâre getting yourself into if you decide to give this another shot. There are parts of myself that even I donât understand, but I shouldâve trusted you with them. I am now, because I hope one day you can trust me again, too.â
Iâm not expecting Nessaâs lips to slam down over mine. It takes me by such surprise that I suck in a gasp of her air as her mouth fuses over my own, fervent and demanding. My eyes slam shut as I drink her in, welcoming every slide of her lips against mine, every stroke and curl of her tongue as it fights my own for dominance. Her hands clutch my face as my own explore her body reverently, fingertips pressing a silent apology into every inch of her exposed skin.
Thereâs a slight tremble to her muscles as she pulls back to break the kiss, like sheâs reluctant to sever the connection. âThank you,â she whispers, her thumbs tracking through the stubble on my jawline. âFor telling me. For trusting me.â
I pull her in and seize her lips again, capturing her mouth in another all- consuming kiss. Iâve never put it all out there, stripped my soul bare for another person, but with Nessa, it feels right. It feels safe. I hope she feels it too.
And when that shock runs through me, like a flare of electric current, I know she does. She gasps against my lips, but I donât stop. I deepen the kiss, trying to prolong that surge of energy, that flare of light. Because now that itâs happened a few times, Iâm certain of what it is.
Itâs an echo of what we used to have. A chance of what we could get back.
Maybe we never really lost it after all.