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

Chapter 4- Callie

A steady thump of pressure just behind my ears is the first thing I register when I wake. Cloves and cinnamon are the second. Sniffing him would make things way too weird so I just lean back into his arms. Red light and the distant, pulsing bass of whatever song is currently played tell me we haven't left the warehouse party.

"You've got a nasty habit of passing out on us when you get overstimulated Bambi. Might need to see someone about that," Jax teases. Even without his tattoos and too perfect face, I'd know him. No one else in the world calls me Bambi.

I frantically pull myself up even as I flail around like a newborn foal, my fainting spell reluctant to release its hold. My fingers touch every part of him I can reach, his arms, his chest, his mask that I slip my fingers underneath, desperate to see his face and prove that this is real. It has to be real. Dario's hands reign me in before I can pull it off. "Aht aht CC. Not here," Dario tuts.

I grasp the only thing my brain is capable of focusing on. "CC?"

"I'm experimenting. Callie Cat is such a mouthful. CC is shorter, cute. It's still in development. Could change. Not a hundred percent on it, more like seventy-eight percent," he explains like he's given it a bit of thought.

I turn in his arms and repeat the same inspection I gave Jax, leaving his mask in place. My head is already swiveling around like the other two will materialize out of thin air. It's silly. Their presence is too large to be ignored, especially after what God said the last time we saw each other. I'm not ashamed, okay maybe a little, to admit that it has fueled some adventurous fantasies over the past year. Between my search history and my reading tastes, I'm going to need Nicole to just burn it all down. Some things don't need to see the light of day.

Still, I'm confused with why they're here. "What are you doing here? Are the others alright? How are God's nightmares, his throat? I completely forgot to give him the recipe for the modified toddy. Can I give it to you? Never mind, most of it is by taste anyways." I ramble, word vomit spewing as fast as my brain can think them.

"Breathe," Dario says slowly as he runs his hands up and down my arms. "In," he inhales, waiting until I copy him. "Exhale," he waits again. Already, I can feel my racing thoughts and heart rate return to normal. Even so, he repeats the action until he's satisfied.

"Everyone's fine Pet. Calm yourself," Jax orders. "Is it not possible that we just wanted to see you?"

The heat behind my eyes is telling. I'm either about to cry or scream or possibly some weird combination of the two. They just want to see me, I huff. I cried myself to sleep for weeks when we parted. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I festered alone in my apartment. I didn't want to see anyone, said the bare minimum to keep them from sending the police to do a welfare check on me, something Nicole and Rachel threatened to do more than once those first few weeks. I lost myself. And these men have the fucking audacity to show up when I finally picked myself up and was planning to finally let them go? I'm strongly tempted to use my blade on Jax and stab him with it. Hard. Kinky fucker would probably like it too much for it to have much impact. It's not like I can hurt Dario. It'd feel too much like kicking a puppy.

Ugh. Life, while not perfect, was simpler when they were gone. I latch on to the one thought that's been swirling around since I realized it was them. "Why are you here?" I ask again.

"It's time to come home Pet. With us, where you belong."

"Movie nights haven't been the same without you Callie girl."

Turns out I don't cry or scream. I laugh; full belly, bent at the waist, gasping for breath, tears leaking from my eyes laughter. My head is throbbing from the dueling sensations and I'm pretty sure I'm finally losing it. I had thought I was months ago. No. That was a reasonable reaction to all I had been through. This is me finally breaking.

"I say this sincerely and I want you to understand I truly mean this. It's not the tequila or the shock talking. Fuck you. Both of you. The others too. I waited a whole year, imagining you guys in the smallest things. Nothing. I started wondering if I was the only one who felt something," my voice trembles. I hate that I sound weak. I'm strong and it took me a long time to realize that about myself. I refuse to let my emotions feel less than. I'm upset and I have every right to be. "Don't," I warn, shrugging out of Dario's arms as he tries to comfort me. I wanted comfort months ago. "I get it. We went through a lot in a short amount of time. Stockholm Syndrome. I had a lot of time to research it. Bad example, but still. Falling for your captors is one of the biggest clichés there is and I managed it not one, not twice, hell not even three times. I had to be an overachiever and hit a quad. Lucky me."

Jax tilts his head. "Are you done?"

"Not even close. You expect me to drop everything and just follow you because, what? You decided you want me again? Get a bit lonely in the bunker? I have a life now. Things are different." I sigh, the buzz I had earlier has well and truly left me and I am way too sober to be having this conversation. "Did y'all know I still have an agent calling me randomly to 'get details' on my case or just check in, like we're old friends?" I laugh at the absurdity of it all, the twists and turns my life has taken in the past year. "It's not safe. You need to go," I order them, my voice firm even as my hands shake.

"Get your affairs in order Bambi. We'll be back." He pulls me in until we're chest to chest. The slow, steady beat of his heart has me doing my best to match it. "Next time you bark at me, remember I bite." He punctuates his words with a nibble of my neck before he slips off down the hall.

The gruesome Cupid mask is such a contradiction to the man beneath. Facing him, the anger in me deflates and all that remains is the pain. His silence hurt me the most. I didn't expect to see them, too dangerous for all of us, but they could've given me something. I would have been fine with a smoke signal, Morse code, a damn carrier pigeon. The silence had me thinking the worst, that I imagined everything between us and it was just physical. Of course, they wanted me. I was the only option around.

I'm grateful for the mask hiding my face. Nobody needs to see the mascara trailing down my cheeks. If I'm lucky, it'll look like part of my costume. "Please don't cry Callie Baby. Please," Dario pleads as he draws me into his arms.

I don't resist, letting myself have this single moment of weakness before I remember who I am. "You didn't come for me," I sniffle. "A year D. You made me wait a whole year. Am I just supposed to be happy and act like no time has passed? My life hasn't been on pause in your absence. I didn't wilt without you," I throw in his face. "I need you to go. Please Dario, just go."

He sighs with his whole body, deflating like a balloon animal. "I'll go for now, but I'm not giving up on us. You may not believe it, but we didn't abandon you. We let you spread your wings, but we always would've caught you when you fell. Did you think all of those food deliveries just magically appeared?"

I stare blankly at him even as my mind is racing back to those first hazy few weeks. Food came two times a day, but I assumed it was Rachel and Nicole when it wasn't me. They were taking care of me, even when I wasn't, couldn't.

Still, their efforts mean nothing when I never saw any of it. I needed them, not their gifts. "Food didn't ease the ache in my heart Dario. Your watchful eyes never caught the way I looked for you in every curly haired guy that was even vaguely built like you or the others. You're like a scab that refuses to heal, opening up right when I think I'm finally fine. Was it fun to watch me break a little more each time I realized my mistake, that I was still alone? Your words mean nothing. Leave. Please." The tears building slip down my face, hidden by my mask. I refuse to let him see.

"I'm sorry Callie. Truly sorry." With one last pleading look, he disappears into the crowd.

I sink to my knees and I sob into my arms, praying they're able to hold me together until I get back to the hotel. Self-medicating with a pint of Bluebell and reality tv reruns are calling my name.