Page 103 of 12 Months of Mayhem

The corner of my mouth curled up.

Oh, there she is.

I took a step forward.

I wanted to show her, wanted to fucking punish her for that sassy mouth that I’d fallen for so many fucking years ago. She knew better than to speak to me like that and not find her damn ass red.

But before I could move, the voice behind me had my body freezing.

“You heard her. Get the fuck out.”

Slowly, I turned to face him.

Bishop.

Calli’s father.

We’d met briefly before but not in any formal kind of capacity, just a few tense interactions between our clubs as we’d passed by each other. He was leaning against the doorframe to the hospital room, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the place. Tattoos snaked down his forearms, his dark eyes burning into mine with calm authority. He didn’t know me—not really—but his stance said it all.

He didn’t need to know me to rip my head off if need be to protect his daughter.

“Mason,” Calli said, her tone sharp and cutting through the tension like a blade. My name on her lips was both a command and a plea, yanking my gaze straight to hers. “Go. Please.”

Something in her eyes stopped me cold—pleading, raw, and unguarded. It wasn’t anger or defiance like I’d braced myself for. It was something far worse.

It was like I could feel her hand reaching into my chest and grabbing hold of what was left of my heart.

And dammit, if I didn’t want to let her.

I swallowed hard, my jaw clenching as I fought the instinct to push back, demand answers, and shake her until she told me why the hell she was still holding that kind of power over me. But her eyes stayed locked on mine, and I knew I wouldn’t win this one.

Not here.

Not now.

Forcing a step back, I tilted my head toward Bishop, who hadn’t moved an inch, his glare burning into me like a damn laser. “Guess this is my cue,” I muttered, my voice rougher than intended.

“Good choice,” Bishop replied, his tone flat but full of unspoken threats.

I gave Calli one last look, letting her see everything I couldn’t say—everything I wasn’t ready to let go of yet. “This isn’t over,” I murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she didn’t respond, but her fingers curled around the edges of her jacket, holding on like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

I turned and walked out, every step feeling heavier than the last. Behind me, the silence stretched taut, but I didn’t stop, didn’t look back.

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Calli

Two Days Later

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Shay tried again as she stood in the doorway to our Airbnb. “Bishop promised he wouldn’t grill you about Mason until we get home. So, you’ll be safe to just hang out with me, Missy, Darcy, and Kadey and just have a girls’ afternoon.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll be fine. Honestly, it’s not having to front up to Dad that I’m afraid of.”

---