Page 17 of Hell's Claim

“I’ve no doubt of the danger from the Venomous Fangs, but compared to fighting abroad, they’re easy to handle.”

“Do you think people will die?”

Sunny gazed at Callie for several long moments. “In war, there is always death.”

“That’s not answering my question, Sunny.”

“Callie, I can’t promise you everyone will walk away unharmed. As much as I’d love to, I can’t, I’m not God. But I can assure that we’ll fight and protect each other. We’ll watch everyone’s backs and ensure that we bring as many home as possible.”

“That sounds like a speech to deliver to families of soldiers before you left on tour,” Callie replied.

“Who’d have thought bikers would end up defending their country?” Sunny mused.

“Is that what this is? Or just a war over territory?” Callie probed.

“Do you really think that? You’ve been around a couple of years, do Hellfire push for land? Or are they happy being here and building their own world?” Sunny challenged.

Callie regarded him shrewdly, and Sunny felt he’d given something away.

“You said they. Don’t you consider yourself one of them? Are you not part of Hellfire?”

“I am wearing their colours, of course, I’m part of the club,” Sunny defended himself.

“Keep telling yourself that, bud,” Callie retorted and took a sip of her beer.

Sunny watched her as she placed the bottle on the table.

“Thanks, Sunny. I’m going to head back to my hotel, I’ll see you around.” Callie got up and walked towards the car park

Sunny stared after her and then gazed across to where her siblings were standing, laughing and chatting. Damn, Sunny felt that for Callie. Her sisters hadn’t included her in their group, nor had they even realised she’d left. How lonely was Callie Dixon, and how distant was she from those who were meant to care about her? Sunny downed his own bottle and headed out after her.

And he realised exactly how Callie would have felt because not one of his brothers noticed him go.

Callie - Christmas 2022

“Sorry, I’m working.”

“Callie, really? You need to come home,” Polly exclaimed, exasperated.

“And as I said, I’ve got work. The team has been booked from the eighteenth until the second of January to investigate someone’s house,” I replied.

“Beg off, for God’s sake,” Polly demanded.

“And when are you quitting work?” I snapped.

“I’ll be off from the twenty-third until the twenty-sixth,” Polly answered.

“Ah, so it’s okay for you to work up until Christmas, but I am meant to drop what I’m doing and jump to your every whim!” I spat as my anger rose.

“Mine’s a proper…” Polly cut off as Thalia whacked her.

“Say it,” I hissed.

“Callie, what Polly is saying…” Clio began.

“Shut up. Go on, Polly.”

I stared at Polly through the laptop camera and knew she was swallowing her own heated words.

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