Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I let out a hiss between my teeth as he pressed but didn’t enter.
“Have you learned your lesson, Calliope?” His voice was guttural. “Will you disobey me again?”
Though I was going crazy with impatience, I was still me. “Yes,” I bit out. “I will. I may like being your toy while in here, but I will not submit to you fully. Ever.”
At the venom in my words, the truth in them, I expected him to frown in disappointment. I didn’t know why I expected such a thing from Elliot.
“Good.” He grinned instead. “Because fuck, do I enjoy punishing you.”
And then he slammed into me.
And my world erupted in pleasure.
ELLIOT
Calliope fell asleep easily because I made sure she would. I ensured that she was exhausted, satisfied, that she simply wouldn’t have the energy to stay up, thinking over the day’s events, wouldn’t overthink us.
Although she had a damn good poker face, I was learning to read her tells. I was learning to read her. Though truly knowing her would take time. A lifetime, I expected. But I was learning enough. Enough to know that she was complicated. And that she was the woman I could see spending a lifetime learning.
I saw through her acrimonious exterior. I had since the first day on the boat, though I was unable to explain, even to myself, how I’d found the softness in her when all she showed the world was hardness. She kept her family on the outside to protect them, and she was trying to do the same with me. She didn’t want anyone hurt as a result of her choices. She’d die to ensure that.
My hand ghosted over her bandage, fist extending and relaxing in anger and fear.
How close she’d come to death. To me fucking losing her.
I hadn’t thought for a second about my safety. Didn’t give a shit about it, in fact. What was my safety if Calliope didn’t exist in this world?
My assumption that something had happened to her had turned to certainty. When I asked her about it earlier in the night, that ghost of trauma had come to the surface more clearly than it had before. Before it had been nothing but a flicker, nothing concrete. But I’d seen it. Something had marked her. First, it had caused that scar in her eyebrow that you couldn’t see unless you were gazing at it in certain lights. And that scar was the least of it. Whatever happened left a mental scar on Calliope Derrick. She had been close to telling me, when I asked. Because I asked. Because I didn’t think that Calliope would lie to me, even though I got the sense she was lying to everyone else around her.
And that she was lying to herself.
She had gotten tangled in something serious in New York. Something she didn’t feel equipped to handle. And if she, the most capable and fearsome woman I’d come to know, couldn’t handle it, then I sure as fuck couldn’t. But I’d find a way. I’d find a way to ensure Calliope didn’t face this, whatever this was, on her own. And if it was her past shooting at us, I’d make sure that she didn’t push me away in order to keep me safe and her more isolated.
How I’d achieve all of that, I had no fucking idea. But I would. I had to. There was no other option.
I held her tighter, as tight as I dared. She didn’t wake. My eyes stayed glued to the door, to the entrances.
No way would I sleep.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep soundly until the threat to Calliope’s life was gone. Until I figured out how to get that weight from her shoulders, keep her from bolting like a scared deer under the mistaken impression that she was protecting me.
Seventeen
Wouldn’t Come Back — Trousdale
CALLIOPE
“Did you shoot at me yesterday?” I asked the second Jasper picked up the phone. Which was after exactly three rings, like always.
No matter what he was doing, where he was, he picked up the phone for me. Day or night. It used to be charming. Before the mind games, murders, sexual assaults and possible assassination attempts.
“I think I’d remember that.” He didn’t seem perturbed at my greeting, nor did he seem surprised.
I squeezed the phone, anger making me want to Hulk out and smash something. Actually, I wanted to smash Jasper’s face. The insane amount of rage I was feeling toward him was unfamiliar but not at all unwelcome.
“I’m okay, you know. Alive. Except for the flesh wound on my arm. Thanks for asking.” His usual lack of concern was something I’d also previously found charming. Thinking it was endearing that he was confident in my ability to handle anything. That he didn’t need to coddle me, protect me.
It was nothing but chilling now, in the face of Elliot’s complete concern about my well-being that wasn’t patronizing or controlling. It was caring. Elliot showed me what it felt like when someone truly and selflessly cared for you.