Page 12 of Through Any Fire (Any x #1)

“I’ll call you back when I have more information. For now, enjoy the benefits of being Mrs. Keane.” Cal returns to his desk and opens his laptop. Within moments, he’s furiously typing, the dismissal clear.

God, his inflated ego is going to be the first thing I’ll rejoice in no longer having to be around when our contract is up.

I grimace. “Enjoy the benefits of being Mrs. Keane? Seriously?”

Cal ignores me as he continues to type out what can only be a novel. I almost feel bad for whoever is on the receiving end of his scorn.

The silence stretches, and he doesn’t look up from his computer. With a huff, I lean over his desk and push the laptop closed with more force than necessary. His fingers have to slip out of the way or risk being slammed by the force of my anger. Cal glowers but meets my wrath head on.

“You will make this a priority,” I reiterate. “And you will keep me informed. Otherwise, I will make your life a living hell. You will rue the day you chose me to fulfill whatever archaic marriage requirement you needed to conform to.”

Callahan looks between my eyes and must see how serious I am. He opens his mouth to speak, but I raise a hand.

“You owe me.” My words are hushed, and my voice shamefully cracks.

Cal’s nostrils flare, and his gaze drops back to his computer. He lifts the screen, pushing my hand off the back.

“I made you a promise,” he says simply. “I’m a man of my word.”

“You haven’t always been.”

It’s satisfying to see the blow land, to see him flinch as his shoulders tense.

It may have been eleven years since the man in front of me took my heart and shattered it into a million pieces, but at least I knew I was going to survive.

That I would eventually be stronger for it.

If I lose Mason…God help Cal if I find out he didn’t follow through on his word to save him.

I turn and leave, pausing by the door for one last thing. “I have a life, you know. I won’t stop living it.”

Cal’s fingers still on his keyboard, and he looks over to me. “I wouldn’t dream of it. As long as it doesn’t conflict with any social events I will require Mrs. Keane’s presence for, you’re free to do as you wish. Within reason, of course. Just make sure you take Graves with you on any outings.”

My brows shoot to my temple. “Graves?”

“That would be me, ma’am,” a voice says from behind me.

I jump, whirling around to find a man who must be at least six and a half feet tall, with black tattoos crawling up his arms and neck.

His tanned olive complexion is warm and thick lashes frame amber eyes.

Shoulder-length onyx waves are half tied up in a knot atop his head, and he sports a perfectly trimmed matching beard.

The man— Graves? —is dressed in all black with a tight, black tee tucked into tactical pants, which are then tucked into combat boots.

What is with the uniform? Everyone dresses like they are in Mission Impossible.

“Loren, this is Cohen Graves, your assigned protection whenever you’re off property. He’ll also be your driver. Take him with you. Do not give him the slip.”

Yeah, he looks exactly what you’d expect a personal bodyguard to look like.

I stick out a hand in greeting. “Hi, Cohen. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Loren.”

Cohen takes my hand and shakes it firmly. “You, too, Mrs. Keane.”

I hum in appreciation. “Please, call me Loren.” I look pointedly to Callahan. “And it’s Catrone.”

Cal arches a brow. “Actually,” he drags out, smug amusement slashed onto his frustratingly perfect face, “it’s Keane. We filed the paperwork on Monday.”

Filed the paperwork on Monday? “We just got married last night. How is that possible?” My words come out more shrill than I’d like to admit.

“Mrs. Keane— Loren ,” Cohen amends, “almost anything is possible when you’re Callahan Keane.”

I scoff. “That wasn’t part of the agreement.” Callahan said nothing about changing my name. I was quite fond of Catrone and quite averse to Keane.

“Guess you should’ve read the fine print.” Cal flashes his teeth in a victorious smile. “Oh well. Next time. ”

My eyes narrow. “What else was in the fine print?” The Callahan I knew was devious, yes, but never intentionally malicious. Well, until that cursed morning, that is.

“That would spoil all the fun, Bunny. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Cal and I lock into a staring match, neither budging for several moments. Cohen clears his throat.

“Nathaniel mentioned a social appointment, ma’am?”

I grit my teeth and turn from Cal. “Yes, that’s right.

I just need to find something more”—I glance down at my loungewear and bare feet—“appropriate for going outside. Do you know where my bags are? Nathaniel said Tinley would take my bags to my rooms, but they weren’t there when I got in last night. ”

Even though my question was for Cohen, Cal answers. “Tinley was unaware of our arrangements and brought them to my room instead. I didn’t want to disturb you last night, so I waited until breakfast to have her move them to your room. They’re there now.”

My pulse quickens at the thought of him left unattended with my bags. “Oh,” I stammer. I drop my gaze to Cohen’s chest, cheeks burning. “Cohen, would you please help me find my way back? This place is a labyrinth.”

Cohen chuckles, a deep rumbling that’s almost melodic. “Of course.”

We turn to leave, but Cal calls out once more. “And, Loren?” He waits until I turn around. “The first of those social events is next week. Find something nice to wear.” With that, he pulls out his wallet, takes out a card, and extends it to me.

I arch a brow, unsure if the insinuation should insult me. Does he really think I’m excited to be here, to play “wife” to the boss? That I’m in awe of the glamorous lifestyle the women closest to the nexus of the family receive?

Absolutely not.

But if I have to suffer through two years of social events and appearances as his arm candy, it’s certainly not going to be on my dime. I step into his space once again and take his card. Our fingers brush, and an electric zap shoots up my arm. I yank my hand back.

With a prompt spin, I leave without another word. Cohen catches up easily before taking over and leading me through the maze that is the Keane residence. With each turn, my stomach sours.

“So, how’d you get the short end of the stick to be my babysitter?”

Cohen chuckles. “It’s actually a great honor knowing the boss trusts me enough to keep you safe. Am I gonna miss the action I saw as Cal’s guard and resident enforcer? Of course. But every now and again, you gotta shake things up.”

Oh, so he’s like, off his rocker.

Cohen laughs again, this time a full belly laugh that has me looking over in confusion. “What? Didn’t think this face could grind some teeth in with the sole of my shoe, like stubbing out a cigarette?” He smiles widely, and it only further proves he has a few screws loose.

“No, it’s not that I think you don’t look capable…” We turn another corner, and he leads me to my door. “I just didn’t expect you to smile while describing what I’m sure is an incredibly brutal act of aggression.”

Cohen shrugs sheepishly. “What can I say? It’s the duality of man.”

I hum in agreement, and we enter my reception area. A deep sigh rattles from me. This place is a maze.

“It took me weeks to figure it out. You’ll get there,” Cohen says .

I realize then I said that out loud. His words are meant to be reassuring, and I give him a tight smile.

“I know.” That was what I was afraid of.

One day, I’ll know this place like the back of my hand. And then another, I’ll have no reason to, and I’ll forget. One day, our contract will end, and with that, so will our marriage.

Why is there a part of me that hopes that day never comes?