Page 18 of Shadows Relived
“Well, that’s some bullshit.”
Callen took another breath as he stared out the window. “Kids, Blaze. I’ve got kids in the middle of this mess.”
“I’d give good money to see you dealing with a bunch of kids.” Blaze chuckled.
Callen simply growled. “I need to get them back where they belong, but I don’t want to move just yet. I’m hoping these guys get bored and pull out.”
“How are you going to know?”
“I’m sure the senator will be able to tell us how the threats are going since they missed their target.”
Blaze scoffed. “You really don’t like this guy, do you?”
“You know me and the ambitious sort,” Callen said, shifting in his seat as he slipped the gear into drive. “And he was shitty to his family.”
“Well, I’ll keep digging and keep the cabin out of reports and shit. Stay put. If they tracked her once, they’ll try again, and probably use the same surveillance videos the cops are using. You don’t need that withkids in tow.”
“True story. Let me know the second you find a name on who’s doing this.”
“You got it.”
The call ended with a click, and Callen leaned back into his seat as he stared out the windshield. He sat there for a moment, watching the light spill through the canopy, turning the road to patchwork gold. He could hear the faint echo of crickets, the creak of pine.
He’d brought her there. To the only place in the world that had ever felt like a sanctuary to him. The place possessed memories, sacred ones, of some of the best times in his life.
And she was there, probably sitting at the table, trying to entertain three young kids, and not worrying about the threat to her own life. Last night, she stood just on the other side of that door, breathing softly in the room where his father used to sleep after long days of fishing and whiskey and talking about everything Callen never quite understood until it was too late.
Meaghan Harrington, the one who had kept him on his toes growing up, making him want to be better than he ever was.
She had always gotten under his skin in the most inconvenient ways: laughing too loud, rolling her eyes at authority, caring so much about everything that it made his own detachment feel like cowardice. She’d called him out from the moment they met, challenged him, made him question what he thought he wanted.
And now she was back. Her hair messy and her mouth still smart, wearing sadness like armor and shieldingthose kids with the full force of her heart. Still stubborn, still rebellious, still… Still, Meaghan.
It drove him crazy in a way he thought he had forgotten about.
The memory of her lips on his last night swam up like heat. The way she’d kissed him, furious and vulnerable, like she was giving him everything and daring him to ruin it.
He didn’t deserve that kiss.
But he wanted another one.
He grunted under his breath and finally shifted the vehicle into drive, pressing on the gas slightly as he eased out onto the two-lane road. “Focus, McHollister,” he muttered to himself. “You’re here to protect her, not want her.”
But the truth was, he had never stopped wanting her, and now, with her right there within his grasp, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to walk away again. He was there to save her life, but in doing that, he might very well have to destroy her father, and he knew, no matter how angry they got, little girls never turned on their fathers. Blowing out a slow breath, he wondered where that left him when everything was said and done.
CHAPTER 9
THE STICKY-SWEET SMELL OF syrupstill lingered in the air, clinging to the cabin walls like the warmth of a memory. Meaghan wiped the smear of chocolate from the corner of Willie’s mouth as he giggled, cheeks dimpled and eyes still rimmed with the exhaustion from yesterday’s terror.
“Okay,” she said, setting the spatula in the sink, “so pancakes were a win. Now comes the hard part, keeping three restless kindergarteners entertained without turning the cabin into a war zone.”
Lucas groaned dramatically and flopped onto the floor. “We’re bored already.”
“It’s been four minutes,” Meaghan said, smiling despite herself.
“That’s a long time when you’re five,” Sophie offered sagely from the couch, her feet dangling as she kicked them rhythmically against the cushions. “I waited for five minutes one time for my sister, and it felt like it took all day.”
Meaghan crossed her arms, surveying them like a general planning her next move. She had already discovered crayons in the cabin’s emergency supply box, likely stashed there years ago by Callen’s dad, but no paper. The firewood basket had briefly become a pirate ship, and Willie had nearly started a splinter-based revolution over who got to be captain.
