Page 67 of What Hurts Us

Thanks to the handful of consecutive hours of sleep I snagged before getting off my shift this morning, I didn’t feel the need to pop melatonin. Instead, I swung into the Falls Creek Filling Station to grab an energy drink. Cal was off duty today, and I needed fuel for my fight.

The neonCold Beer, Fresh Baitsign buzzed in the window as the door slammed shut behind me, bells clinking against the glass pane. I cracked the top and shotgunned liquid caffeine, tossing the empty can in the trash before getting back in my car.

I hummed, “Goodbye, Earl,” all the way home.

No—not home.Callum’s house.It wasn’t my home. I couldn’t let myself forget that.

Both his department-issued vehicle and his Harley were parked in their usual spots.He was in there.

I snatched the ticket out of the seat where I’d tossed it yesterday morning and stormed to the door. I hadn’t bothered to take my flight suit off or my boots. If the cops found traces of blood on it after I disposed of Cal’s body, I could claim that it was an occupational hazard of being a flight nurse.Hell, I had gotten covered in plasma earlier in the day when I spiked the bag and hung it.That’s flight nursing. Turbulence is a bitch.

I could smell bacon wafting through the chilly fall air. Cal had probably dealt with Muriel the pig yesterday and was getting revenge for the inconvenience of wrangling the pesky farm animal in the form of a BLT for breakfast.

I slammed the front door shut, rattling every windowpane in the house. The burner clicked off, and I heard the slide of a skillet across the stovetop.

Cal, in nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, stepped into the doorway that joined the kitchen and living room. His posture was defensive—feet shoulder-width apart, hands in view, and unencumbered. His eyes tracked me, anticipating my first move.

I clutched the ticket in my hand, nearly ripping the paper with the vice grip I held it with.

I wanted to berate him for embarrassing me in front of the entire town. I wanted to rip him a new one for not even so much as texting me afterward. I wanted him to have reached out to make sure I was okay. I wanted to mean something to him. To be something more than a convenience.

My eyes burned with unshed tears. One look at him wounded me more than any words he could have hurled my way. I saw it written across his face—scrawled in blatant words like a billboard, mocking me.

I want you.

But, for reasons beyond my comprehension, his brain would never allow his heart to have what it craved.

He was a sick tease, dangling gentleness and compassion in front of me each time he carried me up the stairs. Every time he touched me. Every time he kissed me like all of this was real to him, too.

I loathed crying in front of people. Maybe it was a side effect of being raised in a home where emotions were practically forbidden. But I couldn’t help it.

“You have some fucking nerve.” My words were warbled. The tone only served to make me angrier. I was pissed that I couldn’t shove my finger in his face and chew him out without making a scene. All of it only brought more tears to my eyes.

Callum’s deep rumble broke on the first word. “Honey—”

“Don’t call me thateveragain,” I choked out as I threw the ticket at him and turned to storm up the stairs.

Cal was on me before my boot touched the first step. The moment he reached out to caress my face, I cocked my fist and swung. Cal was faster, catching my forearm before I hit him. He shackled my wrist and slammed it into the wall behind me.

“Fadat besham, Asal.”

Three words paralyzed me.I am willing to sacrifice myself for you, Honey.It wasn’t that literal, though. Some sayings in Farsi tended to be exaggerated. But the real meaning cut me to the quick.I care about you. You’re important to me. I value you. I would put myself in harm’s way for you.

I didn’t want to think about the number of times Cal must have sat on the couch, practicing the pronunciation to get it just right. The gesture chipped away at my already fragile heart.

Callum pressed his forehead to mine. “You told me to not call you ‘honey.’ You’ll have to be more specific about which languages it’s prohibited in.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he filled it with a kiss. It was punishing and cruel. He left no room for me to return the kiss, instead forcing me to take it and give nothing in return. When he finally pulled away, I was dazed.

“I will die for you, and I trust you enough to put my life in your hands,” he said, his timbre filled with gravel and dripping with lust. “But I cannot offer you anything more than trust. I cannot offer you what you want. One night sleeping in my bed won’t change that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

I wrenched my arm away from Cal, pushing him as I made a move for the door. “I’m leaving.”

He spun, gripping the waist of my flight suit and pulling me back. “Lay—”

Tears sprang from my eyes. “Don’t you get it? You’re dangling fool’s gold in front of me, dazzling me with something that, in the end, is worthless.” I wiped the damp sheen on my cheeks. “You and your cheap words of trust and sacrifice.” I shook my head. “Don’t you get it? Trust and sacrifice is what love is, you dumbass!”

His touch stung as he wiped away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks.

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