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Calista

I ’m shocked I haven’t thrown up yet. My eyes keep flicking between the road and the gas gauge, watching it slowly drop from a quarter to an eighth. When the red light finally pops on, warning me I'm low on fuel, I feel like my heart could stop.

Ken has been talking to me like I’m a child—not in a condescending way, but gently, giving me steady reassurance that I’m doing great and that I’m almost “home”. It’s strange hearing him call his place home, but I’m not about to argue.

I took the exit he mentioned about three minutes after Ronan hung up, and I’ve found myself in a residential area, one totally unfamiliar. Mobile homes line the street, their yards unkempt, metal gates barely high enough to keep in a wandering child. Dogs bark as I pass, but no one’s outside. This place feels odd—isolated, almost misplaced. It’s settled in the middle of a forest, yet the atmosphere is as barren as a desert.

“You should see a yellow house with a white fence, turn left there.” I take the last turn when I feel my car beginning to sputter. Holy fuck… I would have never made it home. I would’ve still been on the freeway.

“There you are.”

As I glance in my rearview mirror, the black sedan slows, its tires turning as if it’s about to follow me down this street. My pulse spikes, but at the last second, the wheels correct and it keeps going, disappearing down the road I just turned from.

I must have been breathing this whole time, but the second I start to hyperventilate, it feels like I’d forgotten how.

“Blue house,” he says. “Pull up, Amy will bring you in.” The call then abruptly ends.

Redirecting my gaze forward, I see three people standing outside. None of them are Ronan or his friend. One of them is a woman, whereas the other two are men.

My car rolls up slowly to the front, and somehow I manage to throw it into park and jump out, though I have no idea where I find the strength. The moment I look at the house, memories I’d buried, that I’d hoped would stay hidden forever, crash over me in a flood I can't control.

“This ain’t no place for a little girl, Jasmine.”

“Go fucking after them,” the girl—I’m going to assume Amy—screams, causing me to jump and look at her. “Stop staring at her and go!”

My focus stays on her as they scatter off. The sound of motorcycles revving echo before tires screech with their departure.

I blink, taking in the woman standing before me. She’s beautiful. Her bright red hair falls just to her shoulders, framing her face in a sharp, confident cut. She’s tall, probably six feet or even a little more, and her light brown eyes are fixed on me, scanning me up and down with an intensity that’s almost unsettling.

And in her hand— oh my god —a shotgun.

“You alright?” she asks, and I wet my lips, nodding my head. Her gaze trails to her shoulder where the barrel of the weapon rests, and then she smirks. “Don’t worry, the gun isn’t for you. It was for those pricks if they dared turn down our street.” She takes a step to me. “My name is Amaranta, but my family calls me Amy. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

I remain rooted to the spot, my hands clenched tightly at my sides, not daring to move or say anything. Then, her arm slips gently over my shoulder, breaking the tension.

“He’s got himself a little lamb I see,” she says, her tone unexpectedly soft, almost warm. There’s no trace of the hard edge she’d used on those two men just moments ago.

“I… would like to wait outside for Ronan.”

“Ro will kill me if I let you stay out here.” She sighs softly, guiding me toward the house. The place has the same wire fencing as the other homes around here, but the yard is noticeably better kept. I catch signs of a dog—patches of grass that’ve browned and a few scattered toys left out. Somehow, these small details make the place feel a little more welcoming, a little warmer. “If they come driving by, I can’t have you in any danger, sorry.”

Swallowing roughly, I nod.

As we reach the driveway filled with several cars, I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder at my own car, parked awkwardly at the curb. The house feels too familiar, even though I know it isn’t the same one. Still, that creeping unease lingers—the kind you get in a place you’re not meant to be, exposed among strangers.

When the metal security door creaks open, Ken steps out, his face lighting up with unmistakable relief. Somehow, that look is enough to settle me a little. He makes this place feel different from the others, like it might actually be safe here.

His voice is steady, reassuring as he says, “Thank goodness. You listen well, doll face.”

“I think I’m going to call her little lamb,” Amy says, passing me as though I’m a drink or object, off to Ken. “Gonna grab Cedric to look at your car.” She looks up to Ken. “Get her some water.”

Her gaze pulls back to mine briefly, and she gives me a head nod before whistling. “Cedric, get your cock out of your hand and get outside now!”

Ken’s hand on my shoulder is steady as he directs me down a narrow hallway into an open living area. The tan carpet, worn and stained in places, sprawls across the room, grounding the space that’s cluttered with mismatched couches in faded shades. Oddly, it feels fitting, adding a sense of warmth I hadn’t anticipated. I half-expected stale air, but instead the room hums with life, filled with the faint scent of cigarette smoke, lingering barbecue, and an air freshener well past its prime.

He leads me further into the house, navigating around the random furniture, and past walls blanketed in photos that blur as we move. I can’t focus on any of them; I’m too dazed to catch the details, but the sense of family and memories here is unmistakable.

The kitchen comes into view now. Brown cabinets line the walls, and white countertops match the appliances—it's almost identical to the cabin’s kitchen before it was torn apart. My gaze lands on a large, round dining table that feels oversized for the space, crammed with seven seats around it. I realize I’ve likely only met a fraction of the people who live here. Then my eyes catch something unexpected: a booster seat tucked among the chairs.

“Sit, Calista, I’ll get you some water. Are you hungry?” It was going to be dinner by the time I got home, but the last thing I can think about right now is food.

Shaking my head, I sit and slightly huddle forward.

“Water it is.”

I dig out my phone from my back pocket and place it onto the table, looking at the screen that only has a few social media notifications. I want to call Ronan so badly, to ask where he is and to hear him tell me that I’m going to be okay.

A glass slides across the table, and I can’t help but chuckle at it being a worn-down cartoon cup. “Need to do the dishes, sorry, you’ll be sharing with Mia.”

“That’s my favorite.” A young girl’s voice pulls my attention downward. Her bright hazel eyes that are slightly slanted stare straight up at me. Black hair that’s cut right at her shoulders bounces as she crosses her arms. “Don’t take it.”

“I… won’t. Can I use it while I’m here?” My voice lowers, as though I’m afraid to be too loud.

“Yes, but only if you tell me your name.” Her lips pout out, as if I’d tell her no and she’s ready to argue with me.

“Calista, but my friends call me Cal.”

A wide smile spreads across her face, lighting up her eyes. “That’s such a pretty name. Alright, you can use it.” She winks, making me feel a little more at ease in this unfamiliar place.

I mirror her smile as I take a sip, feeling a little bit of my guard drop. She pulls out the seat next to mine—not the one with the booster seat—and I find myself wondering if there are more kids here.

“How old are you?” I ask, honestly so grateful for this distraction.

“Ten.” Not that she looked anything like Ronan, but my stupid heart needed confirmation of it. He was in prison for the past fifteen years and couldn’t have a kid then.

Shut up, Cal…

“You?” Mia asks.

“ Oooold ,” I joke, which gets a giggle from her. “Twenty-seven.”

“So ooold ,” she mimics, and it’s my turn to laugh. As I take another sip of water, she asks boldly. “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?” She leans against the table, her elbows digging into its surface, chin resting in her palms.

“Who’s your dad?” Not that I need to get clarification, I’m no one’s girlfriend here, but I’m curious at the very least.

She points over my shoulder, and I turn to see Ken looking for something in the empty living room. When I look at her, she’s got a very cheeky smile.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then who?”

“I’m no one’s girlfriend, Mia. Just… a friend.”

Her eyes narrow, and I already know this girl has seen a lot . She can read me, or this situation. How can a child be giving me a look of weariness. “You got Daddy and the family running around like chickens with their heads cut off. A lot for a friend.”

My lips part to speak but a loud bang makes me jump. The front door is flying open, the sound of a helmet dropping.

It’s when I hear Ronan call for me. “Cal?!”

I’m slowly moving from my seat and coming to a stand.

“Uncle Ro-Ro!” Mia shrieks.

Her calling him has his head turning in our direction, and nerves return at how angry he looks. He’s a lion caged, and finally let loose, now looking for the men that captured him in the first place. I don’t take my eyes off of him, and although it feels like time doesn’t exist, he doesn’t pause.

Even as Ken tries to stop him, he brushes past and heads straight for me. My hands instinctively reach out, hoping he will grab for me and allow me to hold him back. I’m craving that comfort from him more than anything.

But I know better, and just as he is in arms reach, I pull back on instinct. He doesn’t hesitate to grab me, because it’s okay that he can touch me. I just can’t touch him .

His hands cup my face, turning me side to side. “Are you alright?” His voice carries concern, but beneath it, there’s a simmering rage. I’m not sure who it’s aimed at, but even if it’s me, I don’t care, because finally I'm safe.

I nod, just as he tilts my head up to have our eyes meet.

“Use your words, Cal. Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. I’m alright, thank you for coming.” My eyes flick between his, and I quickly bite on my cheek to stop myself from shaking. “Thank you for sending me here…” I lean into his hands, silently hoping he’ll close the gap between us and let me rest against him.

His chest expands, and when he glances down between us, I shove my hands behind my back. His head tilts slightly up as a heavy, worn sigh escapes him. He places a hand behind my neck, pulling my forehead to his chest.

His heart is racing—no, it's thrashing, like it's trying to break free.

“Thank you…” I murmur and sink into this moment.

It feels as if I’ve just finished a good, long cry. I remember how it felt years ago, and the relief that followed. My body feels lighter, my mind quieter, and the emotions that nearly overwhelmed me on the way here are fading. A calmness washes over me, as if every bit of tension inside me has been swept away. It’s a strange mix of exhaustion and peace, one that makes me never want to escape, not while I’m here.

I’d fallen into such a place of peace I hadn’t recognized his opposite hand had snaked under my arm and was resting at the small of my back. He has me closer than we have ever been, and I want so badly to return this feeling of care he is offering me.

I won’t, because I don’t want him to let me go.

After a long moment of silence, he finally says, “No need to thank me.” His head rests against mine. “I’ll always answer when you call…”

My heart jumps and butterflies kick box in my stomach.

I swear he is going to say more, but instead, our moment is broken by Mia’s sweet voice. “Uncle Ro-Ro? You didn’t even say hi to me…”

A soft laugh that I can just tell is forced brushes against my cheek as he pulls away from me. He looks down at Mia with a genuine smile.

“Hey, sprite.”

As she leans in for a hug, I nearly put my hand down to stop her, but I know he can do that. Except, he doesn’t, and she embraces around his hips tightly with a long ‘Mmmm’ that only ends when she releases him.

He places a hand onto her head. “Go check on Murphy, I think they chained him in the backyard. Cal likes animals, she’ll be fine.”

Mia giggles, turns and heads right out the door in the kitchen, screaming, “Here, boy!” at the top of her lungs.

Ronan takes my chin into his hand and redirects my attention back to him, just as I hear footsteps approaching us. “I want to revisit the question from earlier. Who would be following you?”

Damn it .

The gentle moment we shared is gone. I want to go back, to have him stay with me instead of stepping away and letting Ken join us. The urge to beg him to hold me again is so fucking strong that my chest tightens, and I have to wrap my arms around myself to stop from reaching out for him.

“It was just an instinct I had,” I say, looking away from him when he releases my chin.

“Boss,” a man says, but I don’t look up to see them. “Fuel line was snapped. It’s risky to weld it, best bet is to get a new one and replace the entire thing.”

“Get it done.” I’m surprised it’s Ronan that speaks. It’s only then I peer up at him. He still has his eyes on me, and under his heavy gaze, I just know he doesn’t believe it was purely instinct I ‘think’ someone was following me.

“Great instincts, doll face,” Ken says with a laugh, then addresses his friend. “Sent the boys after the car, ain’t back yet but I’m sure when they are we can speak with them.”

“I’ll get the part ordered but won’t be done for a few days.” When I shift my gaze behind Ronan, it’s a boy likely no older than I am, with bright blue hair and grease all over his shoulder and face. “I’ll fix it right up, Barbie, don’t worry.” He catches me staring and gives me a wink.

As if sensing the slightly flirtatious remark, Ronan steps between him and I.

“Thanks, Cedric,” Ken says. “Ro, we are about to order some Chinese food, stay for dinner while we wait for the boys.”

His chest rises as he takes a deep breath, and I’m shocked as the back of his hand comes to brush across my cheek. He drags it back and brushes my hair behind my ear, then releases a heavy sigh. It’s in this moment his strong facade cracks and an expression I’ve never seen encapsulates him.

Sadness.

“Hang with Mia for a bit, baby girl. I’ll just be out front, okay?”

I want to argue and ask him to not leave, but I don’t cling. He wouldn’t leave me here if it weren’t safe.

“Okay… thank you again, Ronan. I’m sorry for all this trouble.”

Ken cuts in before he can say anything. “No trouble at all, but now you owe me double.” He sounds like he’s joking, but Ronan doesn’t laugh, just turns away from me and heads toward the front door.

Sadness… Oh, Ronan, please let me in…