Page 15 of Shadows Within (Millhaven #1)

Callum

I sit at the dining room table, staring at the decanter of whiskey that I haven’t touched. The house is too clean and too silent, like it’s staged for someone else’s life. Father walks into the room like he doesn’t just own the house, but he owns me too.

“You’re late,” he says and straightens his cuff links. “Don’t embarrass yourself tonight. Or me.”

I don’t respond. I barely do anymore, arguments with him are a waste of time.

“Are you listening?” His voice drops, not loud but edgy. “You don’t have to like The Society. You just have to remember that you belong to it. And that means showing up, Callum.”

My jaw flexes. I want to smash something. The decanter might feel good.

Instead, I stand up to leave. “I’ll be there,” I say.

Father gives me a fake smile. “You’ll do what’s expected. You always do.”

I leave the room and the air is heavy, not from guilt, I’m used to that, but from a legacy that’s been built on lies.

I walk through the house, into the garage, and open the bay that my car is in.

I hear rain as the door lifts. I’m reminded of last night, in the parking garage with Scarlett.

When she saw more of me than I wanted her to.

I unlock my car door and pull it open as I unbutton my suit jacket. I get into the driver’s seat—the cool leather welcomes me back. As I rev the engine and drive off, I see my family’s estate in the rear-view mirror.

You belong to it.

I replay Father’s words in my head. I can’t escape him, even if I want to, and boy does he love to remind me of that.

Rain calmly hits the windshield. Over the hood of my car, the city comes into view. I don’t remember how I got here. I had to leave the house before I broke something, and my muscle memory must’ve brought me to the city that raised me.

Tall buildings look down on me as I pull into the circular driveway of The Monte, a luxurious hotel in Boston.

Valets rush over. I climb out of the car, adjusting my jacket, and I slide my bruised knuckles in my pant pockets.

As I walk through the grand doors, I gaze at the familiar marble floors and bright chandeliers.

Another night of secrets and silk. Time to play the part.

I step up to the gold-plated elevator and take it to the penthouse. The doors open like a curtain revealing a scene in a play. A performance awaits.

The polished floors shine beneath the soles of important people wearing Italian leather shoes. There are women in black gowns with red lipstick that stains the champagne glasses. Red pairs nicely with their fake smiles. Everything is beautiful, while everyone is rotten.

The room’s full of people who hold authority in our small town.

I see Roger Booth, who is the Sheriff of Millhaven and also Chase’s dad.

I continue to move through the room like a chess piece being shifted by someone else’s hand.

I nod to familiar faces, as I’m expected to, and avoid the gazes of the smart ones.

They avoid me too. I don’t smile and I definitely don’t speak.

I make my way across the room to Harrison. He’s near the bar. Shocking.

“Already counting down the minutes until you can leave?”

A thin smile crosses my face. He raises his finger, and a waiter comes over. He orders us drinks.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I wonder if it’s her, but I leave it for now—I have a part to play.

“Didn’t know if you’d show.” He sips the drink that was just given to him.

“You say that like I have a choice.” I swirl the dark liquid in my glass.

“None of us have a choice.” He stares across the room. My eyes follow his. A woman in a tailored red dress leans in too closely to an older man in a custom suit.

“She’s new.” He motions toward her. She moves around like she’s someone who wants the attention, but I don’t recognize her.

“Why should I care?” I ask flatly.

“Because that’s Scarlett’s mom.”

My eyes snap back onto her, sharper this time.

There’s something in the way she carries her shoulders that reminds me of Scarlett.

Her mouth is the same too—a similarity I don’t want to see.

Harrison takes another sip of his drink, his eyes on me.

He knows I wouldn’t do anything here, but he watches for my reaction.

My stomach twists when I look at her. With all the time we’ve spent together—mainly when I watch her—I haven’t seen her spend any time with her mom.

“How long has she been involved?” I keep my voice low.

“At least eight years. Probably more.” He shrugs like we’re talking about the weather. “She keeps to herself. They like her, she’s… compliant.” He sips more of his drink.

“Does Scarlett know?” I sip mine, feeling like I know the answer but needing his confirmation.

“No. And she’s not supposed to.” He glances at me.

My shoulders tense and my jaw tightens. I can’t help but look at her again.

She clings to the man she’s with, laughing at whatever he’s saying.

Her reactions look planned, and her smile looks fake.

It’s too late, the damage has already been done.

The illusion that there’s distance between Scarlett’s world and mine is immediately cracked, and there’s no fixing it now.

I can’t be here, not around these men, knowing that she’s in their circle.

“Thanks.” I finish my drink and place the glass on the bar. Without another word, I walk toward a balcony with double doors and push them open. The chill of the evening ripples through my body as I walk outside. The city shines beneath me. I take a few deep breaths.

Scarlett’s Mother.

Of all the twisted pieces in this game, I didn’t expect her to be one of them. All I can think of is Scarlett’s face if she finds out. My grip tightens against the balcony’s ledge.

I need to get out of here, now.

I head to the elevator and press the button, waiting impatiently for it.

Once I get down to the main floor, I grab my car from the valet and tightly grip the wheel.

I need to see her. She needs to be okay and untouched by all of this.

Trying to concentrate on driving, I drown out the thoughts of what could happen if she is impacted.

I don’t think before I get out of the car, and I walk over to the side of her house. Stepping over the green hedges, I grab the trellis. I don’t struggle as I make my way up to her window that’s cracked open. As I slip inside, she doesn’t move.

Her limbs are wrapped under her bed sheets and the moonlight shines across her face. I stand over her and know that her world is closing in. I hate that I’m a part of it.

She looks so graceful when she sleeps, like the world has never touched her and no one has ever hurt her, but that’s not the reality.

I hold my hand just above her face, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but not close enough to steal it.

If I touch her, I don’t think I’ll stop.

Even with her eyes closed, she makes me feel like I’m worth saving.

She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll ruin her. And the worst part? I’ll do it gently.

I climb back down the trellis then light a cigarette. Cold hits my chest but the heat of her stays on my skin. She burns me without even knowing it.

Smoke isn’t enough for me right now. I need something harder, something violent.

I try to leave quietly in my loud car— I don’t want to wake her. The drive doesn’t take me long, even though it’s two towns over.

The alley behind the club, The Underground, smells like sweat and blood. It feels like the closest thing to a home right now. It used to be a night club, but now it’s a place for people who need more, like me.

I hear loud, familiar voices as I get closer to the building.

I push through the door, ducking past the bodyguard.

No one asks questions here, that’s why I like it.

Through the lobby's low light, I can see the black paint flaking off the walls.

I walk toward Johnny, the club organizer, and pay him my entry fee.

I make my way through the crowd of people.

Standing on the sidelines, I watch the main fight until it’s my turn.

The first hit lands sharp on my jaw and I smile—I’ve got this.

The crowd gets louder as the taste of metal fills my mouth, and just for a few seconds the world disappears. No warmth and no softness. No guilt, just pain. Just me.