Page 61 of The Consequence of You
Fuck.
My heart slams against my ribs as I try to get my breath back under control. Dropping to my knees next to her, my own body shakes almost as much as hers. I need toget a proper look at her, see where she’s hurt but at the same time, I’m afraid to look.
My throat thickens and my eyes sting.
“Calliope?” I say her name gently, but she doesn’t react. I try again. “Callie?”
This time she guardedly lifts her head. As soon as her eyes connect with mine, she lets out a choked sob and crawls onto my lap. Her arms wrap tightly around my torso, nearly knocking me over as she sinks into me. I stroke her back, holding her just as tightly, needing her comfort as much as she needs mine.
Her sobs quieten eventually, but her entire body continues to tremble. She’s on the verge of going into shock, and I need to make sure she doesn’t.
Cupping her chin, I tip her face, wincing as I see the crimson cut on her throat. The skin is broken and will need cleaning but it’s shallow enough to wait. I touch my mouth to hers, desperately trying to distract her from the reality of the last few minutes.
Her lips open on a shaky breath, and within seconds she’s kissing me back with an urgency that has me forgetting where we are for a moment. I chase the welcome heat of her lips as our cold damp bodies cling to each other.
“Please…” she murmurs. “Asher. I need… I need…” Hearing my name on her lips like this makes me want to burn the world down to find out exactly what she needs and give it to her, but even I know this is not the place to do it.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Carefully I stand, helping to steady her on her feet. She wobbles, and I support her, doing my best to block her view of her attacker, but she puts her hand on my chest.
“I want to see him.”
As much as I don’t want her anywhere near him, I know better than to argue with her. If this is what she needs to do, then I’ll stay right by her side while she does it.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, we walk over to the bastard that dared to hurt her. He’s curled up on his side. Rossi has zip tied the fucker’s wrists and ankles so he can’t go anywhere. I don’t know what the protocol is in a situation like this, but Rossi doesn’t seem flustered. In fact, he seems to be in his element. He’s on the phone to someone, talking quickly in Italian. I make eye contact with him, and he offers me a small nod.
Callie steps closer to the restrained man.
“Who are you working for?”
“I’m not working for anyone but myself,” he grits out, squirming on wet grass, trying unsuccessfully to free himself. “You were meant to be mine!”
“What do you mean,I was meant to be yours?” Callie’s forehead wrinkles in confusion.
“Our families had an agreement. Except your father moved your whole family over to England without a second thought.” Callie looks to Rossi for confirmation, but he has his back turned, still engrossed in his conversation. She turns back.
“What agreement? What are you talking about?”
“Marriage.” He coughs, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Your father reneged on the deal. He thought offering me a job on your security detail would make up for destroying my future. I took it, thinking I could earn his trust. That he’d eventually see we were right for each other. Except he’s not been in the country the entire time I’ve been here, and you barely gave me the time of day. Treated me like every other member of yourstaff.” He coughs again. “Don’t you remember me, princess? The fun we used to have?” As soon as I hear him use my nickname for her, I kick him hard in the ribs, relishing the way he winces.
“Rossi? Is it true?” Callie looks at her bodyguard, a pained expression on her face. Rossi ends his call.
“I’ve just spoken to your father. He’s trying to arrange a flight.”
“Is it true, Gabriele? Was I promised to him?” she repeats. Her bodyguard puts his phone into his pocket.
“Your father and Carlo’s father are old friends. As young children you and Carlo spent time together. Their family expressed their wish for you two to be married. Apparently, there were a couple of conversations over the years. Nothing more. Your father knew Carlo was disappointed and wanted to move to the UK, so he offered him a job in our security team. There was no promise, no arrangement.”
“You deluded fuck.” I hiss and kick Carlo again.
He twists around and he rears back in recognition.
“You’re the prick who lost me my job. You–” He’s cut off when Callie delivers a swift kick to his temple. It’s delivered with force and precision, and he loses consciousness.
Pride swells in my chest. She’s soaked through, her black hair plastered to her face, mascara staining her cheeks. She has a cut to her throat, and from the way she’s holding her shoulder, I suspect she’s more hurt than she’s letting on.
Despite everything she’s been through in the last hour, she’s still fighting. I was wrong about her being a princess. My girl is a fucking queen.
