CALLEN (Second Chance Novels Book 3) (19 page)

Mason spit out,
So quit your pansy-ass-weepy-fucking-pink-wet-whining and get back to who you are
.

Riggs simply said,
Amen
.

Mason's rant-like speech brought me a degree of peace over our verdict and sentencing, but his perspective lacks one element: grief. His sense of pending loss is naïve and immature. I have no idea how my own grief will settle once this is done. I may grieve doubly for having lost both Evvie and Spades, or my grief will be balanced by the vengeance which allows Evvie to rest. Only the act will determine the outcome.

Nagging me in the background is the knowledge that Evvie wouldn't want me to kill at all. That beautiful woman held onto her her soul's purity in the face of a devastating marriage. My convictions, however, lie in the opposite direction. Justice is my life, and has been since the moment the Army gave me purpose.
 

I don't know if she ever understood that about me. We didn't have enough time together for her to know much at all. I only hope she'll understand more about the man I am from wherever she may be watching. Certainly her soul deserves a heaven, in spite of my question if such a place exists. Maybe heaven only forms around angels like her.

I hope hell exists only for men like her husband.
 

Returning my focus to Spades' execution, I remind myself the decision has been made, regardless of the consequences. I'll quit my pansy-ass whining and do what needs to be done. The soldier in me solidifies as I begin rolling scenarios in my head again.

The strategy of lure-and-trap works well, but I may have eliminated that option in finding his identity in the first place. I doubt he'd be lured into another face-to-face. Another option is to set up an actual contract kill to lure him out, using someone as bait. Sofia comes to mind as person strong enough and smart enough to volunteer for such a position, but Mason would never allow me to place her at that level of danger.
 

The clearest option is to study Spades' habits outside the office and kill him by stealth, most efficiently by sniper rifle. My personal dissatisfaction with a distance-kill stands in the way of this strategy. Like I did with Bennett, I prefer to look him in the eye as I eliminate his now-worthless life from this planet.
 

Any option carries risk at many levels, but more so on this mission due to Spades' training and his gut instinct. Hiding our intentions from 99.99 percent of the population would be simple. Spades falls into the .01 percent. Mason, Riggs, and I each must work at optimum capacity to avoid detection.
 

As soldiers, our absolute success is solid. As brothers, I hope to any god available we're able to remember we're soldiers on a mission.
 

As Quinn's lover, I hope to God I can make her understand.
 

QUINN

Two quiet days after Callen left me alone in my bed, a knock at my door drops a nervous brick in my gut. I'm not at all surprised when I answer the door and find Callen standing there. What does surprise me, however, is the emotional intensity.
 

I try to greet him, but the moment my mouth opens, he shakes his head at me with a clenched jaw. I'm captivated completely by the power emanating from every pore. He exudes a level of confidence I haven't seen before. The absolute dominance in his gaze renders me both cautious and silent.
 

"Quinn," he says with his breath pushing tightly through his throat. His intense eyes move slowly up and down my form while his hands flex at his sides.

Without warning, he snaps himself against me and grips me tight. "Thank you," he breathes heatedly across my ear. Before I can respond, his fingers press along the curve of my lips. He pulls back enough to look me in the eye with an intimidating stare. He clenches his jaw before he continues. "I have been away from myself for far too long. You reminded me."

His forehead presses on my temple for a quiet moment before his lips press strongly against my jaw. Slowly, intensely, his lips travel across my neck, melting my skin as he demonstrates the strength of what he's feeling. I'm not yet sure what brought him to my door like this, but I find myself drowning in him again.

We hold each other tightly in my foyer, our arms pulling and our hand dragging for minute upon intense minute. I'm not exactly sure when or how, but I find myself walking backward into my bedroom being guided by the subtle nudge of his body and confident direction of his strong hands.

"Thank you. …
thank you.
" he whispers again. "Now let me
show
you."

He pulls my sweater over my head and admires my shape with his eyes and fingertips. He kisses me again.
 

"You brought me back to life," he says has he studies the curve of my breast. "Everything I know. Always like this, Quinn. First, I learn…"

He allows his hands to remove my remaining clothes, his eyes drinking me in and his fingertips finding every minute curve of my body and flex of my muscles.

"Then…I assess the situation," he murmurs as he lays me on the bed and settles my head on a pillow. He finds desire in my eyes and smiles softly, which barely veils his intensity.

"And when I know what I need to know," he breathes with his lips only a sliver from mine, "That's when I introduce my intentions…" his crystal blue eyes bore into mine as his hand travels slowly past my belly button. My breath comes to me in shallow swirls as I fall under this man's spell. Watching his own hand tease the skin of my inner thighs, he offers the next step in this beautiful process. "…and I do exactly what needs to be done, what I
want
to do."
 

His eyes flick up to mine, and those irises pin me down more strongly than his hands ever could. His fingers continue to tease while his words incite slow chaos in my mind. He watches me move and listens to the sounds from my lips. The blush of my skin under his touch meets his whispered approval.
 

"And as I proceed, I observe my target," he breathes, dragging his fingers heavily up my hip. "I discover every subtle nuance, and I play on your reactions."

Trying to find my voice, I open my mouth and hope enough thoughts are available to respond to him, but he shakes his head at me again and kisses me lightly.

Very deliberately, he traces my lips softly with his fingers before he kisses me deeply. I respond without decision, knowing he will 'play off my reactions' as he said he would. I simply let myself be carried away.
 

For the longest time in my bed, Callen caresses me. He alternates between soft, intimate kisses to deeply connecting dances of our tongues. My lips are nearly bruised with the intensity of some, and are cared for tenderly with the sweetness of others. He reacts to every subtle shift in my desires, from point to counter point.
 

He hasn't yet made love to me, but the concept of
foreplay
doesn't seem to describe this time in my bed.
Confession
is a closer description of his time with my body.
 

"I understand everything, Quinn," he whispers after finally leaving my mouth. "You have a complex relationship between your body and mind. You live in a world where strong, gentle, slow, desperate…
all
of them fit. And now, let me show you how I use what I learn."

Before I can respond, his mouth covers mine solidly. The teasing, testing motions of his body from the past hours crumble. The intensity between us has me spinning, and the sensation of his steel cock entering me erases the rest of the world, blocking out my need to comprehend his state of mind.

As he observed, my emotions and physical response to him are complicated. He demonstrates his understanding by offering slow, gentle caresses along my curves which build into heavy, desperate, grips along my entire form.
 

His knowledge goes far beyond my physical needs. His eyes meet mine every time I need the connection. He takes a moment to hold my hand when my emotions overwhelm me. He kisses my neck with passion, and kisses my knuckles with romance. Then, when emotion gives way to carnal need, he takes my body higher, faster, and harder, only to gently hold me together so I don't fall apart from the crushing power.
 

More and more time passes as he takes my mind, body and soul into a molten, pliable form which belongs only to him. He brings me to orgasm twice as he spends untold minutes making love to me. I wish I could figure out how to speak, but my eyes alone seem to find the way to communicate. Answering my unspoken words, he murmurs to me, "I already know."

With no more words between us, Callen eases his body into mine again, and begins making love to me in a display of passion more pure and bright than anything I've ever known. The slow, subtle movement of his hips urges the smoldering heat in my body to flame. He holds my gaze while he moves with me. His fingertips trace wispy lines along my shoulders and neck while he watches me softly with undeniable love in his eyes. One tear escapes my eyelashes, pushed out to make room for the overwhelming emotion roiling inside me. He brushes his thumb across the tear and continues loving me in every way possible.
 

When he brings me to the brink again, one final time, I lay below him in awe, in love, and wondering how I earned the privilege of owning his heart.
 

We lie together, now holding tightly in our embrace. I'm near weeping at the sensation of bringing my body and my mind in sync more powerfully than ever. I never imagined love could be this amazing.
 

Before Callen, I experienced love through the filter of clinical analysis. Occasionally I learned twisted ideas of love through the rants of violent criminals. But
this
…this is full-bodied bliss, wrapped in deep emotion and physical perfection.

"I love you," Callen whispers as he tucks me against his chest tightly. "And now you see," he says, adding a tinge of sadness to his voice.

An unease settles into me at his tone. I have yet to speak a word to him, and words continue to fail me.
 

"You see who I really am," he says quietly. "I learn, I assess, I manipulate. I do what's needed...what I
want
. I take my advantage."

Both fear and anger filter into my thoughts as I stare at him in disbelief. I say an internal prayer I'm misunderstanding his words.
 

"Now you see…I need to kill Spades as much as I need to love you," he says as he draws himself away to look me in the eyes. "It's the other half of me. You can't have one without the other. I love you, Quinn, but I can't leave that betrayal unanswered. I observed. I assessed. Now I'll take my advantage. It's the only way I know how to live."

With stiff, cold movements, Callen dresses himself and ignores the angry tears on my face. He looks down on me as I lie naked on the bed and watches as I struggle to cover myself with the twisted sheets. He lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head.
 

"I love you, Quinn," he says honestly. "I'll come back when it's done."

Tears burn a hot trail down my cheeks as I silently watch him leave.

I'm not certain which makes more noise: my heart falling from the height he took me, or the sound of Callen falling off the pedestal I'd constructed for him. Maybe the tears threatening to choke me would be louder.
 

My silence continues. I have no words to explain the tattered pieces of my emotions, nor do I have anyone to speak them to. Gathering myself, I walk to my shower and prepare to wash away the beauty of the afternoon along with my tears.
 

The steamy spray does little to alleviate my pain, but does offer me the chance to think for a moment. My emotions battle with each other, raging between anger, love, and a genuine fear for Callen. His safety isn't much concern. His mind, however, has been torn between his current life, his former life, and the life he envisioned with Evvie. He barely recognizes the future we could have together. He pushes those thoughts aside and turns his thoughts of me to those of a mission-oriented soldier.

Regardless of how his revenge plays out, my future goes one of two ways. He may want to ignore what's to come, but I can think of little else. One possibility rests in my own inability to deal with his choices. Can I lose him? Can I be with a killer? I honestly don't know. Another way my future goes is by way of grief…losing Callen by death or decision would rip me open.

Nothing is simple where Callen is concerned, and nothing is simple when love is involved. Part of me wants to fast-forward a year to find out how all this will work out. The uncertainty is crushing, but I've never been one to shy away from a difficult journey, including a similar love and grief over my father.
 

Bottom line…Callen
will
kill Spades, and I have to decide if his need to exact revenge is too much for me. Callen won't be caught. I won't be accused as an accessory. My only point of concern is my heart. How far do I compromise what I think is right, simply to be loved by someone who murdered a man he called
brother
? Circumstances may be complicated, but the concept of calculated, premeditated murder is simple. The reality leaves me cold, but the remaining shadows of Callen's love warms me.
 

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I cease the flow of water. The beauty and tears of the afternoon have successfully washed away. Drying the final remnants from my body serves as the foundation to move forward.