Heathens & Hand Grenades (Book 1 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 18- Callie

Clearly, I had woken up body snatched with Nicole or Rachel. The last few moments replayed in my head and all I could think was, yes, you go girl. Because there was no way on earth that was me. I mean, she looked like me, messy bun and zombie eyed because only birds and psychos woke up before nine. But

Whew, deep breath. It was over and done with. Time to own it, and besides, it wouldn't even be an issue until tonight.

Curling up on the couch with my legs tucked below me and a plate in my lap, I'm able to semi relax into the easy-going vibe of the morning. I didn't intend to eavesdrop this morning, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to learn more about the men I find myself staying with, for however long that lasts. Moments like this have me question what I'd even return to. Bachelorette and the occasional disastrous blind date organized by a friend who thinks singledom is a contagious disease? Yeah, not exactly compelling. Add in the likelihood of my sins beating down my door like the devil himself sent them with to collect and I'm not exactly rushing to get back home.

D's feet bump mine from beside me and despite the nerves, half of the butterflies beating about my chest are from anticipation. There's no way I was the only one that felt a connection last night. I bury my face in my plate, hoping my blush gets hidden along with it.

The guys settle into their regular spots with Rave leaning against the wall, God taking up a spot on the opposite side of me, and Pretty Boy sitting primly in the chair. The jovial, ribbing mood has flowed into more of a guarded truce, at least from God and Rave. Pretty Boy doesn't seem to change his attitude for anything and Cupid has relaxed since our heart to heart, allowing me to do the same.

Taking the opportunity to really study them, I can't fight the niggling thought that Rave looks familiar. That smile and that laugh, I know them. I shouldn't. He's not a client at the bank and he's hot enough that he would've stood out if I saw him on one of the nights Nicole dragged me to the bars. No one can be that oblivious. My daily routine isn't exactly the most social so not recognizing where I know him from is going to drive me up a wall. It's not as if there is a lack of them around here. Rave makes me nervous though and I know I can't ask him. He already resents my presence, thinking I knew him and his true identity might change the tense truce we have going on into a really precarious situation for me.

Lady Luck has never been on my side.

Sensing my eyes roving over his skin, Rave turns his to mine and scowls. "Not happening sweetheart. Try your luck with the rent a cop back at the bank, though on second thought any man that would give you up that easily isn't worth an ounce of your time."

"And a man like you is? If you'd stop kissing your reflection in the mirror, you might notice I wasn't checking you out," I snap. It's a bold-faced lie, but I'll take it with me to the grave. Guys that look like that know they're attractive, even adorkable ones like D.

He grins, all sharp white teeth and scoffs. "Whatever you say sweetheart. Be sure to let me know when you stop lying to yourself."

"Lying to myself? I'm the one lying to myself," I ask, my voice rising with the anger that I can feel building all the way from my temples to the fingers that keep clenching with the urge to punch him in his too smug face. It's the same dismissive attitude that Colt used to have, ignoring my words in favor of his own narrative. I find myself huffing out a laugh when all I want to do is scream. "I've been around men who lie to themselves and everyone else, dress themselves up in cowboy boots and a smile and call themselves good Christian men who do everything right. I lied to myself then. But maybe I should've been looking for men like you. After all, sometimes it's heathens that understand God better than the rest of us. It's been said that the Devil was beautiful. I fell for a beautiful lie once. So thanks Rave for showing me your true face. There's zero chance for me falling for any of it."

My words shut him up quick and a strange look passes between God and Rave. I almost miss it, distracted by Cupid discreetly playing footsie with me. Well, discreet in the fact that God and Rave miss it. Nothing escapes Pretty Boy's gaze, watching with a twist in those luscious lips. He winks as he catches me staring and I bite my bottom lip reflexively. His blue eyes darken and widen before his whole body relaxes back into the armchair and he folds his gloved hands across his trim lower stomach, chuckling to himself.

I quietly resume eating, ignoring the tension in the room. I've said my piece. I don't expect Rave to change. He's hated my presence here the whole time due to no fault of my own. At this point the best course of action might be to simply avoid him. Out of sight out of mind and all that. The guys finish their food, cleaning up, and taking off to wherever it is they disappear to in the bunker. D hangs back, a hesitant smile on his face as he searches mine, but I wave him off. I don't want my mood to dim his sparkle.

I place my dishes in the sink and begin washing them by hand due to the lack of dishwasher. The work is mindless, but exactly what I need to regroup. A moment to myself without four sets of eyes scrutinizing every moment. I feel like screaming. I won't survive second guessing myself every second, every word uttered again.

Colt destroyed me. I refuse to let these men wreck the woman that survived.