Page 32 of This for That (The Edge of Retaliation 1)
“Welcome,” he murmurs back, making my heart do that funny thing where it skips a beat. “Not goin’ to lie—it’s hard sitting here, wondering how fuckin’ good you might feel beneath me. Tellin’ me you are a virgin has made me wild.”
Oh.
God.
I swallow, and say in a low voice, “Well, if you play your cards right, you might just find out how that feels.”
His eyes get lusty. My god. What is this man doing to me?
Whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop.
We drink and eat, and talk like we’ve known each other forever. The conversation flows easily, and I’m a little tipsy when we head back out to Tanner’s bike and get on. The ride home is a whole lot less concerning than the ride here was. I feel free, like nothing in the world can touch me. I get it now, why he loves this bike so much. It really does make everything feel okay.
When we arrive at my apartment, I climb off the bike and wait for Tanner. My heart is racing a million miles an hour. I’m wondering what we’ll do; will he come inside? Will this be the night for me? Will it be horrible? I don’t know. The anticipation is killing me, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next, so I turn and smile at Tanner. “Did you want to come inside?”
He studies me, then nods, “Yeah.”
God.
Oh God.
I turn and walk up the front steps and grab the door handle. The door opens, which is odd. Joanne is staying at Patrick’s tonight; they’re apparently going on a date. Her words, not mine. If I were her, I wouldn’t be doing anything with that douchebag. I just think she deserves better.
Trying to frantically remember if I locked the door when I left for work today, I push it open and step inside. I stare around the apartment, and then flick on a light. At first glance, nothing seems amiss, but when I walk in farther, I see two chairs turned over in the kitchen. Heart racing, I look around, my head whipping left and right.
“Everything okay?” Tanner asks.
“Someone has been in here.”
He steps up beside me. “Like you’ve been broken into?”
“Yes, exactly that. The door was open, and those chairs are turned over.”
“Stand here,” Tanner orders. “Don’t move. I’ll go and check it out. Do not move, Callie.”
I don’t move, and watch as he walks through the house. He returns a moment later and looks like he’s seen a ghost. He narrows his eyes, and then carefully says, “There is something you should see.”
I swallow and close my eyes, fighting for calm. “What is it?” I whisper.
“Come on.”
He leads me down the hall and into my bedroom. The moment we step in, I stare at the wall, and my skin prickles. I feel all the blood rush from my face. The same word that was spread across Joanne’s car is now spread across my wall. Killer. In big capital letters.
Letters Tanner can see and read.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, grabbing the wall to stop myself from falling.
“You want to tell me what’s going on here?” Tanner asks, his voice calm. “What is this? Who did this?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
I can’t tell him.
I can’t.
He’ll never speak to me again. I can’t live with that. We haven’t even gotten to know each other. If he finds out I’ve spent the last six years in prison, he’ll never want to come near me again.
“Who did this?” he asks, turning and staring at me.
“Tanner, I don’t know.”
“You have no idea what this is about?”
“No,” I tell him. “No, I don’t. It must have something to do with Joanne. I should call the police.”
“Who would want to do something to Joanne?” Tanner asks. “She in trouble?”
God. He’s asking too many questions.
“I have to call the police. I’m sorry. Thank you for your help, Tanner. You can go.”
He looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “You think I’m goin’ to leave you when you could be in danger? Don’t fuckin’ think so. I’m staying. You can call the police, but I’m not leaving.”
Dammit.
Damn him.
I love that he wants to help me, but calling the police when he’s here and answering their questions will only make things worse.
“It’s late,” I say softly. “I’ll call them tomorrow.”
Tanner studies me, then steps forward and curls his big hands around my shoulders. “I’m not leavin’ you here, so get comfortable. I’m stayin’.”
I really wish he wasn’t so damned perfect.
I really wish I didn’t have to lie to him.
I really wish everything was different.
13
THEN – CALLIE
The pain is unbearable. I can’t move. I don’t even want to move.
I’m curled on my side in my bed, the ache from the stab wound having turned into a heavy throbbing. My shirt is soaked with blood, so I pulled a blanket over myself. My fight has gone. I’m tired. I’m scared. I have nobody on my side. I want to go home, but even there I’m not welcome. I have nothing.
