Sunshine and Bullets Page 7
"Why do you ask?" I needed to understand his motives. My father was a master of manipulation. This could all very well be a trap, and Callum could be his puppet.
"I never believed that you drowned. There wasn’t enough evidence to support it. He's involved in some bad things, Summer. I've been following him. He's gotten too good at covering his tracks. Powerful people are helping him," Callum replied. “He’s too protected. He’s running for Lieutenant Governor, now.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. It was bad enough when he was elected to Congress. My disappearance had propelled his campaign forward. People voted for him out of sympathy, and he’d been climbing the political ranks ever since.
Men like my father shouldn’t be in positions of power. It fed their addictions.
"I’ve gone over everything about your case. Interrogated your friends. Questioned your mother. The only person I couldn’t quite get a read on was him," Callum replied.
I brushed my fingers through my hair and glanced back at the door. My reunion with Blaise had been difficult, but it didn’t feel as forced as this.
"Why don't you tell me what you think my father is involved in, and I'll tell you if you're right," I said while letting out a shaky breath. After all this time, Callum just wanted me for what information I had on my father. I wanted him to miss me.
"He's laundering money. Hiding his tracks. Deleting records. I can't pin a single thing on him, but I think you're the key. There has to be more," he pushed.
"What do you mean by ‘more’?" I asked, irritation blooming within me like a rose on fire. For someone that didn't have much time, he sure was wasting a lot of it by dancing around his accusations.
"Did your father ever...hurt you?" he asked while stepping forward and placing his hand on my shoulder. I bristled at the contact and pulled away.
My father once said that the best way to show compassion for victims of trauma was to place a hand on their shoulder and make eye contact. He said it was the highest form of emulating empathy. He was a master of body language—of pretending to feel. I recognized Callum's gesture as one he learned from him.
"Don't touch me. You can't invade my space, looking at me like that, then expect me to tell you everything." I stood and made my way towards the door.
"Summer, please stop. I'm sorry," Callum pleaded. There was a vulnerability in his voice that made me pause.
There was a darker part of me that once craved more from him, and I knew there was more between us than his need for answers. What about his need for me?
"Five years, Callum. Five years and all you're interested in is what I know? I thought we had been friends once."
"I’ve imagined this reunion a million times. I've experienced every emotion from relief to anger to sadness. I'm fucking this up." He thrust his hands into his hair.
I crossed my arms over my chest while taking in a deep breath. The act of filling my lungs slowed my heart rate, but rage still thumped through me, pulsing like rock music.
"I imagined this reunion, too, you know," I finally replied.
Callum stopped his pacing to look at me. "You did?"
I looked down at my watch, wondering how much more time we had. "Yeah." My response felt empty and emotionless. I knew if I let go of my control, he’d see the truth. He’d see how much I’d missed him.
"And what exactly did you imagine, Summer?" Callum asked in a shaky voice while taking a step forward.
This was a defining moment. I considered answering him. I'd explain in detail how I wished he would crash his lips to mine and show me how much he missed me. But it was better to show him. I took a step closer and placed a hand on his cheek, and my skin connected with the rugged feel of his beard. I smiled. He no longer looked like the young rookie I knew as a teen. He was all man now. And there was nothing stopping us.
I lifted up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his, not caring if this was wrong or bad timing. It’s only when you’ve lost everything that you start to treasure the things you find.
It took him a moment to respond, making me doubt myself and our relationship once more. Then, finally, he cupped my neck and returned my kiss.
His forearms lay heavy on my chest as I licked his bottom lip, tasting mint. He walked me back towards the bed and, with each step, our inhibitions dissolved. Left with nothing but lust and passion, we gave into our desires.
He laid me down while devouring my lips. Pressing his knee between my legs, I ground against him while we kissed. With one hand, he traced the outline of my body, as if reassuring himself that I was really here. With the other, he held himself up, and I danced my fingers along his arm muscles. I wanted him to take off his jacket, his shirt, and his reservations.
Years of pent-up forbidden lust overflowed and carried us further into our kiss. He sucked on my tongue while I squirmed against his leg. I wanted more, more, more.
I slid my hands beneath his suit coat and started to remove his tie when he pulled away. "I can't stay much longer, Sunshine," he said, his voice full of regret. After taking a moment to calm my breathing, I sat up and scooted next to him.
"I have to be at work tomorrow. Bright—your dad—knows I'm on his trail. If I don’t show up for work in a few hours, he'll get suspicious." I clenched my jaw at that monster’s name. Bright hadn’t been my dad since before I left.
“Not to mention, my superior told me to give up on this case years ago. He says I’m obsessed. He thinks it’s why I became a Federal Agent.”
“You’re an agent?” I asked.
Callum smiled. “I guess all those cheesy cop shows paid off. I got into the academy last year.” We both stood and walked towards the door, our movements slow, prolonging our time together.
I smiled at a distant memory, then sighed while knotting my hands around his sleek, black tie, pulling him back towards me. I needed more. "Kiss me, please?"
This was no longer a reunion, this was the goodbye kiss I was once denied. I may no longer know the man in front of me, but I knew the man he once was.
He appeared reluctant but gave in to my request. His lips reconnected with mine as he smoothed his hand up beneath my shirt. Tracing light fingers over my stomach, he drifted to my hips, digging into my skin. I shivered at his touch, and a slow simmer of passion flared within me. His body descended upon mine, rock hard muscle pressing against me, guiding me to the mattress. I liked the heavy feel of his muscles pinning me down. It felt like I couldn’t go anywhere, like he would make me stay if he had to.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling myself closer to feel his length through my yoga pants. He felt impossibly good. And I poured every single ounce of the regret I’d been clinging to the last five years into this moment. My heart clenched and my eyes welled over, spilling hot tears down my cheeks.
He pulled away and lightly touched my cheeks which were wet from my tears. "You're crying," he whispered before placing the salty drop of my tear in his mouth, internalizing the pain of our separation. He then kissed away the others before reluctantly standing up. His tender eyes hinted that he didn’t want to leave, but I knew we didn’t have long. I lay still on the bed for a moment longer. Craving Callum was tearing me apart. Although I felt guilt and remorse, there was also an intense relief. How could so much grief come from so much passion?
I sat up, rubbing my tight chest.
"I have to—"
"Go. I know." I rolled my neck and placed my fingers to my lips, testing their swollen sensitivity.
"This isn't over,” he said, his eyes intent on mine. “I'll find a way to come to you at the end of the week. We still have a lot to discuss, but I will protect you." He moved closer and brushed my hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead.
"I just hope you don't hate me once you learn what I know," I whispered before detaching myself from his hold. I knew the kind of monster my father was, and yet I’d left. My silence bred other victims.
I walked him to the door, and then he asked, "Do yo
u remember our last dinner together?"
My shoulders slumped as I remembered that night. "Yes," I replied in a strained voice.
"I should have kissed you."
Chapter Seven
Present Day
* * *
There was no mistaking the knowing look on Blaise's face when he walked into the dusty motel room. I patted my hair and adjusted my shirt, praying I didn't look as affected as I felt. The last twelve hours had been a tidal wave of emotions. I was being reckless.
"Good reunion?" Blaise asked.
“Yep,” I forced myself to calm down. “You sure it’s okay if we stay here tonight? Gav seemed pretty adamant about seeing us.”
Blaise adjusted the blinds of the window and made his way back to me. “Gavriel can wait another night. I’ve already pissed him off. Might as well make the most of his bad mood.” Blaise winked while taking his phone out of his back pocket and switching it off.
“So you’re a bounty hunter?” I asked awkwardly while he made his way over to a small lounge chair.
“Yeah,” Blaise replied. I sensed that he didn’t want to talk about his career choice, but I prodded.
“When did you start doing that? What made you decide to?”
Blaise scratched behind his ears while plopping down on the bed.
“I like finding lost things. Lost people. At first, Callum got me hooked up with a bail bondsman in Chesterbrook. Once I saw how good I was at it, I started exploring other options. By that time, Gavriel was already rising in the ranks with the ‘family business,’ so he got me a couple jobs. I found guys he was looking for and dropped them at his doorstep. I’m not sure what happened after I collected the check, but money is money, right?”
My mouth dropped open in surprise, but I firmly closed it when I saw Blaise looking somewhat ashamed. “I’m good at what I do, and I make good money. It made it easier, you know? I couldn’t find you, but I could find them.”
“Where do you live?” I asked, navigating the conversation back to a safe topic. Would Blaise drop me off on Gavriel’s doorstep like any other job? Or would he stay?
“I have an apartment in Brooklyn. It's nice. I have plenty of business. Gavriel lives in the city.”
“I can picture that,” I said with a smile. Chesterbrook was suburbian hell for the Bullets. I knew they’d eventually migrate to a large city somewhere. Big cities meant more trouble to get into.
“We don’t see each other much. Not anymore. He's busy running the world, and I'm busy running from it. I always knew it would be you to bring us back together.”
“Blaise, I never meant to…” What could I say? I couldn’t give him reassurance or apologies. Even if I could, it wouldn’t be enough. “I’m glad you found me,” I finally said. Even though I was settling into my life in Baltimore, it was a shell of an existence. The only good thing in my life had been Nix. Blaise finding me felt like a baptism of fire.
“I didn’t find you,” Blaise replied bitterly. “Callum did.”
“How?”
“He saw you on a traffic scan. It was pure luck. Kinda pisses me off to know you were so close. Have you always been in the area?”
I mentally counted the number of places I’d been and frowned. “I spent some time in Texas. A summer in Florida. Three days in New Hampshire. A year in Pennsylvania. Baltimore was the closest to home I’d ever gotten, but I wanted some...familiarity.” I wasn’t willing to admit that some part of me deep down was hoping to run into one of them. I didn’t brave social media to keep tabs on the Bullets, it was too risky.
“Texas, huh?” Blaise asked with a small smile. He stood before stripping his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a pair of cutoffs and cowboy boots. My Ma was from Texas, remember?” For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend that he was asking me a question, because I was staring at his incredible body. I took in the way each muscle had become more pronounced since the last time I saw him. I noticed a burn mark on his chest the size of a quarter. He turned around to switch off the lamp, and I bit my lip when I saw the tattoos covering his back.
“Oh…” I began while clearing my throat. “Yes, I remember. It’s kind of why I picked it,” I admitted. Blaise once told me about his mother. She was a kind soul but had bad taste in men. One of them killed her the night Blaise found himself at the Jamesons’.
In the dim light from the street, I could see Blaise staring at me, as if debating on asking me more questions about my time there. But instead, he said, "You should get some sleep."
Blaise dropped his pants and slipped under the covers. He took just long enough that I could see every last hard-as-fuck inch of him. Once the sheets covered him, I stopped gaping at him, but even in the dark of the room, I saw Blaise's smirk. When we were teens, he would purposely call me out on staring. We rarely crossed the invisible boundary of friendship. We flirted, of course, but never more than a lingering touch or gaze. However, it never stopped me from appreciating them. They were handsome. Alluring.
I felt like the foolish girl on Woodbury Lane, but I wasn't naive anymore. I was a survivor. Being on the run did that to a girl. Blaise was tempting, and I wasn't a blushing virgin anymore.
"Okay," I replied before standing and taking off my oversized shirt.
He propped himself up on his elbows, as if to get a better view of me. I had all his attention, and I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce him to the new me. This might be temporary. I didn't know what was to come, but I did know that I wanted him to see me—all of me. I trailed my fingers over my chest and abs before shrugging off my tight yoga pants. The glow of a passing car's headlights filtered through the curtains of the hotel window. I watched as his eyes zeroed in on the black lace of my thong.
I kept my breathing even as I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. When it slid from my shoulders and landed on the floor, I heard a muffled moan escape him.
I casually walked towards him and kneeled on the foot of the bed, before crawling towards the headboard. He stayed impossibly still as I hovered over him. Once I was straddling his waist, I brushed my lips against his cheek before whispering in a shaky voice.
"Good night, Blaise."
I then rolled over on my back beside him and pulled the blankets up to my neck. I shimmied in the rough sheets, pleased with my performance. Back in Chesterbrook, Blaise had always teased me. He knew full well the reactions he elicited from my body. Even if I wasn’t willing to admit it back then, we both knew that the tension between us was palpable. If we weren’t best friends, perhaps we could have explored that.
When he didn't say anything or move, I wondered if I went too far.
"If you think I'm letting you get an ounce of sleep after that stunt, Sunshine, then you don't know me very well," Blaise growled before rolling on top of me and pinning my hands above my head. He settled between my legs and leaned over me so that we were eye level.
"You’re right, I don't know you," I replied, my voice shaky and throaty. "Not anymore." Despite feeling completely turned on, I couldn’t help but feel sad at the realization.
"Well then,” Blaise dipped lower. He trailed his tongue along my collarbone before sucking on my neck. An electric thrill roamed up my spine as I let out a gasp.
"Allow me to reacquaint you."
I melted like chocolate on hot concrete as he worked his rough hands against my skin. "It was never enough to be your friend. You know how many times I wanted you? How many times I imagined you when I fucked other women? You know how long I looked for you?" Each question twisted the knife in my chest deeper.
He pulled me closer, but I wanted space from the guilt. He hovered, daring me to move. Daring me to kiss him and break the space between us and admit that I wanted him too.
I caved first, crashing my lips to his in feverish need. We clashed and explored and poured all our yearning into one blinding kiss. I moved my body against his. I needed friction. I needed his hands on my skin. I needed him.
"You want me, Sunshine?" Blaise asked. I felt his hot breath wash over my sensitive skin, and I curled closer.
"Yes," I whispered.
"You feel this right here? How we're on the edge of something fucking amazing?"
"God yes," I moaned. I drifted my hand down to guide his head between my thighs to my aching need. Right before my fingers could grab hold of his copper hair, he pulled back, rolled over, and abruptly laid on his side of the bed.
I stilled and sat up, pulling the blankets over my chest in shock. "What the fuck was that?" I asked. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the highway outside the motel.
"That, my dear, was someone leaving you right at the moment things were starting to get good," Blaise replied. I wanted to smack his confident smirk. "Don't try to tease the ultimate tease, baby."
I gaped at him a moment before laying back down. Blaise was the ultimate tease. Even back in Chesterbrook, it was the same push and pull. He’d give me brief glimpses of what could be, always running before I could read anything into it.
Not willing to give in to my anger, I rolled onto his chest, resting my cheek against his muscles. It took a moment, but he then wrapped his arm around me and traced circles on my skin.
"I'm going to hold you tonight,” Blaise said, and his tortured tone broke me. “I wanted one night. I'm sure once I hand you over to Gavriel, you'll forget all about me."
I twisted so I could look up at his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've always loved him—”
“Blaise that’s not—”
“— don't deny it. And just when I’d made the decision to fight for you, you left us. At least if you're with him, I can see you occasionally. It’s better than not having you at all. Fuck, I can't go back to nothing at all."