Page 12 of Shadows Relived
He sat down across from her, the table between them like a line in the sand. He watched her brush a trembling hand through her hair, saw the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, and felt something crack open in his chest.
“I don’t know yet,” he said with a shake of his head as he twisted the bottle open. “But I promise you I’ll find out.”
She didn’t answer right away as she stared at him. The fire popped behind them as Willie found a stack of old picture books and was reading to Sophie in a whisper. Lucas sat apart, still near the door, still on guard.
She sighed as she crossed the kitchen and snatched the bottle out of his hand. “No drinking in front of the kids. Besides, don’t you need to keep your wits about you?”
Callen leaned forward, wanting to snatch the bottle out of her hand, but deciding against it. Settling back in his seat, he lowered his voice, trying to keep his frustration from taking over. “You’re not wrong to be pissed. I’d be pissed too. But your dad’s not the priority right now. They are.” He nodded toward the children. “And so are you.”
Her eyes lifted to his, full of conflicted fire. “You think I can’t take care of myself?” She twisted the lid back on the bottle and moved over to stuff it back in the cabinet and out of sight.
“I know you can.” He offered a crooked smile. “That’s why I came. Because no one else could’ve dragged you out of there.”
Despite herself, her mouth twitched as she closed the cabinet and crossed her arms over her chest.
For a brief moment, they sat there in shared quiet. Not peace, not yet, but something that looked a little like it.
Then her eyes narrowed again as she looked back over at him. “But you still left that morning without saying goodbye.”
And just like that, the air thickened again.
Callen sighed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It wasn’t because I didn’t care.”
“You were going to tell me you loved me,” she said, voice like glass. “I saw it on your face.”
“I was,” he admitted, his gut churning. “But your dad got elected. You were moving to D.C. and I got the deployment call that same night. It felt like the universe made the choice for us.”
“I never asked the universe,” shewhispered.
That silence was heavier than any shouting match they’d ever had. But it shattered when Sophie’s voice broke through.
“Miss Harrington? Are we going home tomorrow?”
He watched as Meaghan turned instantly, swallowing her emotion. “I hope so, sweetie. I really hope so.”
Callen stood, walking to the fireplace. “We’ll make it fun here, okay? We’ll pretend it’s a vacation.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Worse vacation ever.”
CHAPTER 7
THE SCENT OF WOODsmoke curled through the old cabin like a whisper from another time, earthy and warm, almost comforting if she let herself forget for a moment why they were there. The fireplace crackled softly, casting golden light across the rough-hewn floors and log walls, dancing against the windows that looked out into the pitch-black forest beyond. She saw no streetlamps, heard no hum of traffic. Just the endless hush of trees pressing close around them.
The kids had eaten little, some crackers, a shared peanut butter sandwich, and even less had been said. They were exhausted, strung tight with fear, clinging to the smallest thread of routine that she could salvage.
Callen crouched near the fire, shifting a few logs with the metal poker. His face was cast in shadow, all sharp cheekbones and a jaw that hadn’t unclenched since they’d fled the school. He had said little. Just… watched. Guarded. She couldn’t blame him. Things were tense when they last saw each other, and well, her father hadn’t made for a long-lost-love reunion.
She rubbed her lips together as she stared at him, wondering if that was what it was. Long-lost love. She remembered his arms around her, his lips pressed to hers, and the way he had made her feel. He had always been her protector, saving her ass more than once from her plans to embarrass her father when she was younger, before she got her shit together and had a plan for her life. A plan she had made after Callen had walked out on her.
She remembered that as well. They had made love that night, and in the morning, he had made tracks. Not the best feeling for a girl already struggling to find love.
She turned her attention back to the couch, where Willie and Lucas sat side by side, Sophie curled between them under a fleece blanket too big for her slight frame. The boys leaned slightly toward her, protective, even as their eyes stayed locked on the flickering fire.
“I suppose we should get them to bed,” she said, afraid of speaking too loud. “They’re exhausted.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the kids, nodding. “I would imagine they are. They lived through one of their video games.”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “They’re too young for one of those type of games.”
