Page 8 of Chasing Callie

“I said go easy,” Maura chastises.

“I did!” I cringe at the bright red mark on Linc’s cheek. Maybe I’m stronger than I thought. “Are you okay?

“Fine. Probably deserve another, if I’m honest.” Linc rubs his cheek. “The guys will love her, Maura. She knows how to hit.”

Smirking, I look at Maura whose eyes glitter with pride. “Who do you think taught her?”

“I knew that slap felt familiar.” Linc studies me, a little heat in his gaze. “Maybe one more? For science.”

Maura snorts. “Careful with this one, Callie. He’ll sleep with anyone who breathes.”

“Don’t slut shame me, Maura. I know you hooked up with that guy last night.”

She sucks in a breath. “You little shit. How do you know about that?”

Linc gives her a droll look and stands. “Hooking up in his van wasn’t exactly discreet.” He meanders back into the kitchen, Maura’s scowl hot on his back.

“A van?” I glance at her and shake my head. “And you think I’m trouble.”

“Oh, I know you’re trouble.”

“I’ve changed,” I inform her. “A lot.”

Her lips purse and she makes a little noise. An mmhmm that tells me she believes exactly none of my words. That’s fine though. I’ll show her. I’ll show everyone in Big Ridge exactly who I am now.

Chapter Three

CALLIE

After leaving The Bar with a promise to start tomorrow night, I cut through town, steering clear of the places I used to frequent with the Williams brothers. My chest tightens as I turn onto the familiar winding road that leads home. The gravel crunches beneath my tires, and the tension between my shoulders eases for the first time since I left New York City.

This is why I came home.

I pull in behind Dad’s old truck, a blue Chevy that’s seen better days but still runs like a dream because he treats it like a baby. The sight of its weathered body makes me smile. I stare at the house I grew up in, finally breathing easy. The familiar white siding and green shutters promise a safe haven. The big wrap-around porch gives it that old country-style home feel that warms me from head to toe. The house may be weathered, but the swing I spent countless hours on sketching or talking shit with the boys is pristine. Dad always has his priorities straight.

I catch a glimpse of Mom’s graying brunette hair. She’s on her knees, gloves covered in dirt as she yanks weeds from her vegetable patch.

“Need a hand?” I ask, stepping out of my SUV.

Her head whips around so fast I worry she’ll hurt her neck. “Henry! Come here!”

Dad appears from around the corner of the house, wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. His face is flushed, and he’s breathing a little heavy. The yard work must be getting to him. When did his wrinkles get so wrinkly?

“Callie?” His voice cracks, and I’m suddenly bombarded with a flurry of movement as they both come toward me.

Mom gets to me first, wrapping me in a hug that smells like earth and the lavender hand lotion she’s used since I was little. “What on earth? Why didn’t you call? Are you okay? Is everything all right?”

I’m crushed between them when Dad joins the hug, his strong arms enveloping both of us. His embrace feels thinner somehow, but it’s as secure as ever.

After a moment, they release me, but Mom keeps her hands on my shoulders, examining me as if she’s checking for injuries. “You’ve lost weight. Have you been eating? What happened to that fancy apartment you showed us last time we visited?”

“And what about Theo?” Dad adds, frowning. Theo was so rude when they came to visit. I shouldn’t have ignored that red flag.

My stomach twists. “That’s a long story.”

“Well, come on inside for some tea.” Mom loops her arm through mine and guides me toward the house.

Dad grabs my bag from the SUV without being asked, simply because that’s what a good man does. Theo would have left me to fend for myself.