Page 94 of Built for Mercy

She kissed the back of my head. “Okay. You’ll be even more of an anchor to me here. I was scared shitless when I moved because I thought I would lose you. Turns out, we just lost bits of each other by not living in the same place.”

I exhaled slowly. “Nothing has been the same since you left. I thought we had a mutual understand that we hated the Big Apple?”

Callie snickered. “So is life, though.” She stroked my hair, then spoke a name I never expected to hear from her lips. “What are you going to do about Chavez?”

“Chavez,” I echoed, the name tasting like bile. I hesitated, then confessed the dark resolve that had been growing inside me. “I’m going to kill him, Cal. In cold blood. He deserves nothing less.”

For a moment, she was silent, and I braced myself for the end of our friendship. But instead, she let out a long sigh, her breath stirring strands of my hair. “I understand,” she murmured, her voice carrying a weight that sank deep into my bones. Surprising me in ways I hadn’t expected. “Shit, I wish I’d had ended Owen’s life when I was beating the everliving fuck out of him.”

Her admission was a twisted kind of permission. We were two sides of the same coin—always had been—tarnished by our choices. I thanked her again, the gravity of her words forcing me more firmly into reality than I’d felt in days.

“Always, Soph.” Her voice was fierce now, full of a fiery determination that warmed me to my core. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do now,” I said with a choked laugh, the kind that was half sob and all relief. She loved me, despite the festering secrets and the grim path I was ready to tread.

“Good.” Her hold tightened around me, a promise of unwavering support. “And hey, when you do take down that bastard, make it count.”

“Count on it,” I replied, a dark smile tugging at my lips.

We stayed there, locked together, drawing strength in silence. I wanted to stay like this, to just exist in this moment a little longer. But time was a cruel fucking thing—it kept moving, even when I wasn’t ready.

Then, before Callie pulled away, something shifted. She sighed, her hold lingering for a second too long. Then another.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

My throat tightened. I knew. But it didn’t change anything. I felt her exhale against my shoulder, like she wanted to say more, like she didn’t trust herself to. And then there was a buzz. Callie’s phone lit up by my head—I hadn't even noticed it was there. A quick glanced showed Liam's name. She grabbed it and pulled back, scanning the screen, her lips pressing together.

“I should go,” she said softly.

I nodded, even though some selfish part of me didn’t want her to leave. Even though she was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart right now.

“Take care of yourself, Soph. And remember, there’s always a place for you in New York, with or without your badge. It’s not so bad here.”

“Thanks,chula. For everything,” I managed to say, watching her silhouette blur through the tears I couldn’t seem to stop.

“Anytime, Soph.” Her voice was a caress, a final note of comfort as she headed for the door. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I called out softly, just before she slipped away.

And then I was alone again.

At least I could say those words to her.

***

My phone vibrated against the nightstand, a jarring intrusion into my temporary sanctuary. With a groan, I reached out, snatching it up with little grace. Dean’s name flashed across the screen. What the hell did he want now?

“Dean,” I answered, my voice thick with sleep and a biting irritation that I didn’t bother to mask.

“Sophie.” His tone was that same calm, measured cadence that once made me feel safe—now it just pissed me off. “I’m sorry to wake you. Can we talk? It’s important.”

“Can it wait?” I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to deal with whatever “important” meant coming from an ex who’d lost that privilege.

“No, I—look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. Lunch? Our old spot?” He was playing our nostalgia like a well-worn violin. And honestly, I did just talk to him last week telling him we could do lunch, so…

“Fine,” I snapped, more out of curiosity than any real desire to see him.

“Thank you, Sophie. Really.” There was a sincerity there that tugged at something vulnerable within me.