1 year later
"Good work on the last job. Precision execution," Riggs praises. His rough hand tussles my hair and I bat him off even as my ears turn red under my hair. The older brother I never wanted, but I'll be damned if he embarrasses me like a kid. It's just nice to be appreciated, valued for my expertise instead of my work just being expected.
"Thanks. This last one was a smaller branch, easier layout and less staff. I'm already working on the schematics for the next one. It'll take me a bit longer. I'm thinking a month just to be safe, give or take."
"I trust your judgement." He's still pacing, brows furrowed with the thoughts on his mind. I've seen the same expression on him enough over the last few months to recognize it. If this was just about the next job, he'd be rubbing his scar. He can't help it when he's worried about us.
"She's better now," I remind him.
He pauses his pacing and nods, dismissing me. She's always the question on the tip of everyone's tongue that never tips over. A silent oath we all have unwittingly sworn on. Out of sight, but never of mind. At least for most of us. Discipline and all that.
Fresh from a shower and impeccably dressed as always, the body sitting in my chair and commanding my screens lies silent as his eyes scan the multitude of angles my cameras have covered. "I don't buy you were out on another supply run and just so happened to leave the tab with the map open. You're being a stalker you know." I lean over his shoulder and max out one of the windows so that it fills the screen. Callie leans over her kitchen counter, dressed in her favorite loungewear as she wrangles up a snack. Her hair is still wet, plopped into a messy bun on top of her head and the basketball shorts around her waist have my gut tighten with petty jealousy, wishing they were mine instead of some pair she picked up to remember us by. I miss the way she feels against me, so easy going and full of playful energy. A ray of true sunshine in this bunker bathed in artificial light.
I can't really call any of them out. I'm hardly any better. It might be Jax now, but all of them have been caught in the same position over the past year. Well, almost a year but who's counting. Probably the obsessive bastard in front of me. I'm half tempted to ask.
"She's getting faster. Should've put a collar on her," he mutters, twisting his blade in his hand. Pretty sure he means that literally.
"That would have gone over so well. We both know this needed to happen. Surveillance on her has only been gone for the past two months. We need to be completely sure before we make a move."
Being the voice of reason is easier when I've had an eye on her this whole time. Maybe not as directly as I'd like, but still there. Law enforcement descended on her like flies at a picnic and we just had to have faith that she would keep her word. Her apartment was constantly swept, so all we could do for the first six months is watch her through local surveillance cameras and area businesses. Only recently had we been able to get cameras into her apartment. Thankfully her friend posts religiously to social media, so that helped too. It allows us a glimpse into the new and improved Callie.
She looks good, healthy and happy. The copper highlights and new hair cut make her look alive. The running hasn't hurt either. Jax has been a particularly vocal fan of that new hobby. Her body was perfect before, but now it's strong. It matches the woman she is inside.
I'm just grateful to see her leave her apartment. Living. Other than updating the others, I did my best to shield them the first month. It wasn't pretty. That's putting it mildly. It was like watching the second Twilight movie all over again. She rarely left her apartment and when she did, my heart broke all over again. Her clothes drowned her and I didn't need better resolution to see the misery in the slump of her shoulders. I could look in a mirror or at any of my brothers. I'm grateful she had a strong support system to keep her afloat.
We've been treading water. Our last few jobs have gone off without a hitch. No injuries, no new hostages. Spreading out, we've traversed and hit most of the Hamilton banks in the state. Only a few remain on the list. Each hit has to be grating on the greedy fuck's nerves. It's not about the money, never was. It's about the principle. Damien Hamilton inherited his father's sins when the old man finally retired. He was warned of the consequences of his actions. All he had to do is return what was never his to take. Greed and pride will be the cause of his ruin. We'll ensure it.
First, we have to get our heart back. It's been more than long enough. I could have easily finished One Piece with the way time has dragged on without her. We might tease Jax about his flair for the dramatic, but this time he might have nailed it perfectly. I eye the outfit lying on my bed and shake my head. She's not going to know what hit her.
Closing down my computer, I get an alert for her friend's social media. A selfie of the two of them as they get ready for tonight's debauchery and mischief. I grin at the screen before I shut it down and get dressed. Don't want to be late.