Heathens & Hold Ups (Book 2 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 7- Callie

Putting down his cup, he leans forward, invading my space until I'm dizzy with the scent of him. The rest of the room could go up in a cloud of smoke and I'd be none the wiser. "Miss me? In response to your question, research. This place is a hub of information. I swear, even when whispering people let the wildest things drop in casual conversation. Only been here an hour and I know of one upcoming promotion and have overheard two affairs. This is better than television any day," he grins like a shark at a fish fry. "You should get back to your friend Bambi," he says lazily, dismissing me. 

Turning on my heel, I hide away in the bathroom, my mind a swirl of different thoughts. The guys, Nicole, and how despite my anger at the way they just blew back into my life, my heart feels like it's slowly healing instead of beating out of habit, stitched together haphazardly by my shaking hands.

Nicole's eyes are drilling into my head as I walk back and I prepare myself for the onslaught of questions. I diffuse them as best as I can. No, I didn't get his name. Or his number. It was basic small talk. He thought I was someone else, that's all. She drops it and we head back to work to finish.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet. Everyone has their heads down and dots their i's and crosses their t's. Clocking out is a godsend and I have a juicy book waiting for me when I get home. The main character had finally admitted her feelings for both of her guys and things were about to get heated. A blanket, some fuzzy socks, and a nice cup of chamomile are calling my name.

My keys are jangly, tangled mess and my arms are full with my purse and water bottle. Running gave me a much-needed appreciation for my water intake. Still, I'm annoyed with the direction my day has taken and I'm ready for a reset.

Zoned out, I barely notice the guys until I'm halfway down the hall to my room. Sprawled out on my couch and raiding my fridge and pantry, they have all but taken over my small apartment. Despite his size, Rave is across the room, wrapping his hand over my mouth before I can gather enough air in my lungs to scream like my instincts demand, and sweeping me up in his burly arms.

"Easy Princess. It's just us," he shushes. Talking to me like I'm some wild animal about to strike out. "Now are you gonna hit me if I put you down and take my hand away?"

I contemplate the merit in biting him for far longer than I'd like to admit. Sage invades my senses and I relax into his arms, the scent a reminder of everything good about being with them back in the bunker. I should have known it was Rave. He was comforting me even when I couldn't stand him. Actions, not words indeed.

Taking in the rest of them scattered around my apartment, Dario is head first in my fridge looking for snacks. Jaxson is inspecting my bookcase, pulling one out and reading the back before putting it back and resuming his task. God is sitting in my favorite chair, watching us all like a king holding court and sipping on a glass of amber liquid that looks more like whisky than sweet tea.

Licking the hand across my mouth, Rave releases me with a hearty laugh that rumbles across my back. "You can't just break into my apartment," I splutter out.

"Technically, we didn't break in," Jaxson explains. "That key you lost a few months ago? Not missing. Your landlord really should have changed the locks," he tuts.

I huff at their audacity, acting like everything about this is perfectly normal. "Y'all might want to reevaluate your understanding of the words space and time. Two days is neither. Let's cut the shit. Why are you here? Why now?" I fume. Anger seethes in my gut every time I'm forced to think about how much they left me to wade through alone. It's not like anyone else would understand what went down at that cabin. "I already read Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum the riot act. Did the two of you want the full force of a year's worth of pent up feelings too?"

"Are you done," God asks. He never raises his voice with me, but I feel the dominance underlying every word despite his even tone.

"No. I'm not," I grumble petulantly.

Rave leans back against the wall, blocking my retreat to my room. "Now you've done it," he stretches his arms up, revealing a taunt sliver of skin at his waist. My mouth is salivating like he's a tall glass of water on a July day.

God sets his glass down on my coffee table and leans forward with his elbows balanced on his knees, his head resting on his steepled fingers.

"Come Calista," he orders.

A year has done nothing to diminish the pull within me when he calls my name. I usually hate it, my name, but something about the gravelly growl in his voice has me forgetting that independent woman that is not obedient to any man. I shuffle over and wait.

His lips tip up on the side in the barest hint of a smile, warming my chest at his approval. "Knees baby girl," he utters.

I'm sinking to the floor before my brain can catch up. Humiliation and lust bloom across my cheeks.

"We need you to come home Calista. To us, with us. We can't do this without you baby."