Page 58 of His Red Carnation

“Jake!” Mom quickly scolded him.

“Nah, I can take it, Ana. Just fucking clear the air, Jake. Take it all out on me,” Callan said calmly, his hands firmly in his pockets.

“You mean the man you asked to come look after your family because he was the only person alive that you trusted for the job?” I butt in.

Dad’s eyes widened. “Yeah, the man I thought I trusted with my life. The one whose life I’ve saved more than once, pulling him out of more shit than I can count—that I’m sure he hasn’t told you about,” he spit out, pointing his finger at me.

Callan sighed. “Alright, Jake. We’re all heated here. Why don’t we just take a bit to cool off before—”

“Fuck you, Callan!” Dad shouted suddenly. “Tellingmeto fucking cool off when you’ve been fucking my daughter?!”

Callan blinked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You already heard it from her, Jake. I’m in love with her. I’m sorry, but I’m fucking in love.”

His words hit me hard, but before I could process anything, Dad lunged at Callan, backing him against the wall. He raised his fist and struck Callan across the face. Instinctively, I rushed toward them, hearing Mom shriek for Leo and Julian. Dad shoved me aside as he lifted his fist again, but Leo and Julian quickly flanked him, grabbing his arms.

I turned to Callan, who stood against the wall, stone-faced and breathing heavily, his eye already beginning to swell.

“Get the fuck out of here! If I see your face around here again, you’ll be in fucking prison for life!” Dad shouted, pointing to the hallway.

Tears streamed down my face. This was bad—worst-case scenario bad. Callan looked at me, uncertainty in his eyes, before turning to leave. I started to follow him, but Mom tugged on my arm. “Wait, baby. Let’s all talk.”

I shook my head. “No. I have to go with him,” I pleaded, watching him walk down the stairs.

“Sloane.” Dad was already beside me, tugging my arm along with Mom. Fear surged through my body—were they really not going to let me go?

“Let me go,” I warned him, my voice deeper than I expected.

“Sloane, you need to know something about Callan,” Dad insisted, easing his grip. “Something I defended him for—that I helped him get off scot-free. But now, after this…I’m not so sure anymore.”

I glanced at Mom; she looked as confused as I felt. “What are you talking about, Jake?” she asked quietly.

He let go of me and placed his hands on his hips, walking toward the middle of the room.

“Leo, Julian. Make sure he’s off the premises. I need to speak to my family alone,” he instructed, waving them away.

My hands trembled as I held my breath, waiting for Dad to explain.

“Dad,” I muttered angrily. “Tell me now, or I’m leaving.”

Dad turned, looking between me and Mom, who stood beside me with her arms crossed. “Ana, do you remember the case I was asked to testify on? The one I couldn’t discuss?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly.

Dad sighed, lowering his head. “It was a sexual assault case. It was against Callan.”

24

Callan

I knew Jake was going to fucking hit me. I expected it. I should have spoken to him alone, but I knew Sloane wouldn’t have it. I also anticipated insults—Jake always thought he was so much fucking better than me. Born wealthy, straight-laced, and a straight-up fucking nerd, yet I loved him. We were so different when we first met in the Navy—the only thing we had in common was our sobriety. Yet somehow, we became the best of friends, going through hell and back together in the SEALs.

I was required to go through therapy for my PTSD, but I didn’t want to dwell on that. Maybe that’s why I made such bad decisions before I left the Navy. I didn’t technically get kicked out, but I sure as hell didn’t re-enlist—not after nearly facing a dishonorable discharge.

Jake had just been promoted to E7 as an officer. Meanwhile, I was struggling. My relationship of three years was tanking—not just because of me, but because of her too. Sarah. She wasa fucking verbally abusive smoke show who tested every one of my limits. At twenty-six, I didn’t know any better. I was only thinking with my dick and living for the drama she created. We were both fucked up, but I convinced myself it was love. She was sweet as pie when we were around other people. That’s why everyone believed her when she accused me of sexually assaulting her.

It was right after I relapsed. I was drinking all the time, even while working. I don’t know how I didn’t get caught—maybe it was just luck. Sarah sure as fuck gave me hell about it, calling me a fuck-up and a pathetic loser who couldn’t control myself, and then we’d hate-fuck until the sun came up.

One particular evening, after we’d been drinking, I told her I was leaving. I was determined to get clean and fix my life. From what I remembered, she screamed at me while I packed my things, then started pounding on me with her little fists. At 5’2” and 110 pounds soaking wet, it didn’t do much, but I pushed her off, and she stumbled back against the dresser, sending everything crashing down beside her. I checked to make sure she was okay—she was, just fucking drunk and too unsteady to stay upright. She kept screaming until I locked myself in the bathroom to get the hell away from her.

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