Page 22 of Shadows Relived
Callen scanned the room once, jaw ticking. His shoulders were already tight from the drive, but this? This tipped him dangerously close to the edge.
God, he needed that drink.
He set the bag of supplies down on the counter and headed straight for the pantry. Opened the door, giving the contents a quick scan. Nothing.
Not in the flour bin. Not in the cupboard over the stove. Not in the cookie tin labeled “Oatmeal” that he already knew was a lie.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong?” Meaghan asked from the living room, where she sat cross-legged on the rug with Sophie and Willie, carefully separating a pile of crayons.
“I know you hid the bottle you took from me last night.”
She didn’t even look up. “Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” she said calmly, “maybe I poured it out. Or maybe I’m just saving you from making a dumb decision.”
Callen opened another cabinet just to spite her. Empty.
“Making a dumb decision?” He bit back the growl, not wanting the children to see him frustrated. “I kept you from getting shot. I helped protect your students. One drink is not a dumb decision. It’s a calming ritual.”
“I didn’t ask you to show up.” She glanced up at him, shrugging. “That was my father. And I won’t have you drinking around the children. Sets a poor example.”
He had to walk away.
“I have some repairs to do while I’m here.”
“Have fun,” she said, dropping her gaze back to the crayons.
Grabbing the hammer and a bucket of nails from the gear trunk, he headed outside to the side window with the crooked frame. Might as well get something done before his temper unraveled completely.
But just as he reached for the latch, the window creaked open from the other side.
As he looked up, a small hand appeared, followed by a serious-faced Lucas.
Callen blinked. “What do you want? You should be in the front room with Meaghan. Go on now.”
The kid said nothing at first, just reachedthrough the gap and passed over the bottle Meaghan took from Callen the night before.
“She hid it inside the couch cushions in her bedroom,” the small boy said. “My dad likes this kind too. He drinks a glass at night out on the porch.
Callen took it, startled into silence.
Lucas’s gaze didn’t waver. “Are we gonna roast marshmallows tonight? That’s what you do when camping. And hot dogs. I love cooking hot dogs on a fire.”
Callen swallowed down the knot in his throat. “Yeah, buddy. We’ll roast marshmallows.”
“And hot dogs?”
Callen chuckled. “And hot dogs.”
Lucas nodded once, then closed the window without another word.
Callen stared at the bottle in his hands.
He didn’t open it. Just set it in his bucket as he went about his repairs.
