Giving in, he drops his joggers to his ankles and kicks them off.
I lift the blanket, inviting him in, and he slides beneath the covers. His warm body engulfs me, arm wrapped around my waist as he pulls me close.
My head nuzzles up to his scruffy chest and everything is perfect.
I’m woken up to the slamming of drawers. When I spring up on the bed, I find Cal pulling on clothes like he’s in a hurry.
Hugging the blanket to my chest, I watch him, blinking a few times to adjust to the light shining in the room from the open door. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go, baby,” he says, his words as rushed as his movements.
I throw the blanket off me and get out of bed. “What do you mean you have to go?” I walk over to him, putting my hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving like a crackhead in need of a fix.
“Anders called. They found him.” For a brief moment, he looks into my eyes before he begins hustling again.
“Found him? Is he dead or something?”
He pauses, stares at the window, then resumes slipping his socks on. “If only.” He reaches for his dress coat that sits on the dresser beside me, and I grab it before he does.
“Would you just stop and tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I have to make a little trip. I shouldn’t be gone long. There will be a guard outside the door twenty-four seven.”
“Twenty-four seven?” I spit out. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be gone long?”
He takes the jacket from my hand and slides one arm in, before pressing his lips to mine in a hurried kiss. “A day, maybe two.” He puts the other arm in, zips his long black coat, and walks past me.
I follow behind him, not letting him get away with only the few details he’s sprinkled on me. “Where is this trip taking you?”
He stops. Turns slowly with a shoe in his hand. There’s a beat of silence that has my heart pounding in my chest. He finally says, “Rhode Island,” before putting on his shoes.
“Rhode Island? But, what the hell would Byron…” My hand claps over my mouth, and I shake my head.
“He’s got your parents, Bella.”
“Oh my God,” I cry out. “What do you mean he’s got my parents? Please stop with all these one-liners and tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Cal closes the space between us, places one hand on my waist, and looks deep into my eyes with a serious and concerned expression. “I didn’t wanna tell you. I know how you are. You can’t go and try to play the hero, Bella. Do you understand? Let me handle this.”
Tears stream down my cheeks as I think of every possible scenario. Did he kill them? Is he going to kill them?
“What did he do?” I choke out, my words muffled with my cries. “Did he hurt them?”
“No. At least, not yet. He’s two steps ahead of us and baiting us to him. I got a cryptic text and a picture—”
“Show me.”
He stands idly, not wanting to show me the image he was sent.
“Show me the damn picture and text, Cal!”
Dropping his hand from my waist, he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his phone. A second later, he’s holding it up, and on the screen is a picture of my mom, my dad, and Mark—all gagged and tied up in our dining room. I gasp, feeling like the air has been sucked right out of my lungs.
“And the text?”
He swipes up, showing me the words on his screen.
Unknown: These should have been your parents. You seem to have forgotten that bitch left you. She’s the only one to blame.
“Did you respond?” I grab the phone from his hand, scrolling down and reading the exchange of messages.
You son of a bitch! Touch them and I’ll be sure to cut off your nutsack and use it as bait on my next fishing trip.
Unknown: I’d like to see you try. You’ve got until noon, or they all die. Come alone or they die anyways.
I toss the phone back at him and he catches it in midair. I spin around, burying my face in my hands as I break down.
Cal comes up behind me, turns me around, and lets me fall apart in his arms. "You see why I have to go.”
I nod through sniffles and tears. “Okay.” I look up at him, seeing the worry in his eyes. He’s putting his life on the line to save my parents—parents he thought would be his, too. “Be careful.” I don’t want to let him go. I want him to stay here where he’s safe, but I know that no matter what I do or say, he’ll go anyway. We’re alike in that way.
His lips press to my forehead, then he takes a few steps back and pulls his phone out of his pocket, though it’s different. It’s not his phone at all. He hands it to me. “What’s this?” I ask.
“A temporary phone, so I can reach you. Under no circumstances do you leave this room. I mean it, Bella.”
I nod in agreement, clutching the phone in my hand. “Call me as soon as you’re all safe.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Don’t get yourself killed, Cal. I can’t live in this world without you.”
The corners of his lips tug up. “I love you, baby.”
I throw myself into his arms one last time before I let him go. “I love you, too.”
Cal opens the door and I see the guard. As soon as I lay eyes on him, I know I’ll be safe here. He’s about seven feet tall and at least three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. His tattooed arms are folded in front of him and he tips his head to Cal.
“That’s my whole world in that room,” Cal says. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“You got it, Boss. She’s in good hands.”
Cal gives me one last look before he pulls the door shut. The latching sound mimics a prison cell being closed. Only, I’m not in prison; I’m in hell. With Cal out there and me in here.
He’s going to be fine. He’ll save them, and everyone will be okay.
It’s the only ending I’ll accept.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It’s a quick flight to Rhode Island. We touch down at a private airfield, about twenty minutes from Bella’s house. As we’re bussing through the space, I send Bella a quick message to check in, just to make sure she hasn’t knocked out Stanley, the guard, and hopped on a commercial flight to try and save the day. I can’t help but smile, knowing it’s totally something she would do.
She responds right away with a picture of her sitting on the couch in our suite. She’s wearing one of my black tee shirts, her legs crossed like a pretzel and her eyes swollen from crying so much. Fuck, I miss her. It’s only been two hours, but I’m ready to be back by her side. I long to dry her tears and sweep her hair out of her face while kissing her until our lips bruise.
Me: Good girl. I’ll be in touch. Love you.
I put my phone back in the front pocket of my coat and unbuckle my seat belt as soon as I’m given the green light to get off the jet.
Lloyd, the pilot, bids me farewell with a handshake.
I go down the short staircase and my car is waiting about three yards from the jet. The driver exits, pulling the back door open for me. Inside, I see Anders waiting.