Page 31 of Through Any Fire (Any x #1)

W hen I leave Doc’s office, Cal’s waiting outside the door. He’s pacing, running his hands through his hair. When he hears me, his head snaps in my direction. His eyes frantically search my face, noting the bandage. A breath rattles out of his chest. “You okay?”

I nod and pass him, intending to head straight to his office. Cal’s long strides easily catch up to my pace, matching my speed once he does.

“Everett, Matthias, Luc, and Graves are waiting in my office. Do you need anything before we start?”

My steps falter for the briefest moment. I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

When we enter his office, the guys are locked in a heated conversation, arguing about something too quickly for me to understand. Cal crosses over and yanks Lucas out of the chair in front of his desk, then indicates I should take his seat. A blush creeps into my cheeks, but I sit.

“Update.” Cal’s voice has turned harsh, a clear indicator to the mindset he must’ve shifted into.

All four men talk at once, and Cal holds up a hand. “Everett, go.”

“We received an email not two minutes ago, and we’ve been debating the validity of it.”

Cal leans forward and clasps his hands together. He raises a brow in silent order for them to continue.

“Well”—Everett’s gaze darts to me and pauses, but Cal waves him on, so he continues—“it seems someone is claiming to know who the Disciples are and wants to meet to discuss the information they’ve acquired.”

Cal hums and scrubs a hand over his jaw. Stubble from the day darkens his face and gives him a rugged look that churns a low heat between my legs.

“Could be a trap,” he muses. “Who’s the sender?”

This time it’s Matthias who speaks. “It’s an anonymous address. We sent it off to be traced, but it will take at least a day or two for any sort of answer.”

“And when are they looking to meet?”

“At ten o’clock.”

That was in eight hours. It would have to be a judgment call, and it was times like these that I was glad I wasn’t in Cal’s shoes and responsible for making the right choice.

“Was there anything else in the email?” Cal asks.

Everett grimaces. “Not much. Just that they knew who the local leader of the Disciples is and where they can be found. The address they gave is to a restaurant, but it closes at nine-thirty.”

“So, they’re either friends with the owners or the owners themselves?” My question seems to remind the other men I’m still here, and Matthias’s scowl returns.

“What is she doing here, anyway? This isn’t something she should be involved in; she’s a Bianchi.”

Callahan slams a fist onto his desk. When he speaks, his voice rumbles with rage, and his eyes narrow on his brother. “She’s a Keane, and you will treat her as such, or so help me, Matthias, I’ll strip your rank and send you to babysit a fucking tree. Do you understand me?”

Matthias quiets, but his hateful gaze slices over to me, and the heat of his fury blisters.

“With Andy Thorne being blown to bits this afternoon, it’s awfully convenient we’re getting an invite to meet with someone we know nothing about.”

Cohen’s words ring true, and a shiver of fear ripples over me.

“What do you think Andy meant about how your family was the one who tried to kill his wife the first time?” I ask. “That there was a car bomb outside a pharmacy, and an infant that died.”

Cal swears. “Fuck. I didn’t even realize what he was saying at the time.” He looks to Matthias, who appears ashen.

“Could it be?” Matthias whispers.

My brows scrunch together. “Could what be?”

A wordless conversation passes between Cal and Matthias. For several seconds, we wait for somebody to speak. Finally, Cal does.

“Our uncle loved a Bianchi. Mia.”

Elias and Leon’s aunt. She died a long time ago.

Cal continues. “Our grandfather told him to end it, but Danny refused. Mia was pregnant. And she was the love of his life. Months later, after Mia gave birth, our grandfather ordered the hit. He’d waited long enough for Danny to choose family, so our grandfather chose for him.

They threw a molotov into her parked car, outside the pharmacy.

Later, they discovered a car seat in the back.

Pieces were blown across the street. Reports always said she was in the car, too. ”

“Or so we thought,” Matthias adds. “If she escaped, she never returned.”

“Andy’s wife’s name was Charlene. Not Mia.”

This time, it’s Lucas who speaks. “People can change their name, Lo.”

“Everything else he said lines up with her being Mia,” Cal says.

It does. And if Andy’s wife was Mia Bianchi…

“Cal, if that’s true, I understand why Andy was so upset to see you today. You represent all of his late wife’s past life and trauma.” Cal nods thoughtfully—and morosely. “But why were you so upset with him?”

Cal visibly deflates. “A few years ago, I tried to hire Thorne Enterprises for our IT security, but he wouldn’t accept the contract.

When I assumed leadership after my father passed, I tried again.

This time, I offered to triple the rate, but he staunchly refused.

We were growing at an impossible rate and needed to increase our security; our enemies would love any opportunity to take a shot at us.

When Andy rejected us yet again, it wasn’t only a blow to my ego, but also a hit to our organization.

It left us vulnerable.” As he speaks, his tone morphs from bitter resentment to slow understanding.

“We hired Garrett and prayed his skill set would be enough. I’d like to say that so far it has, but the recent wipes of our footage has him on my shit list.”

If that’s all true, it’s likely no amount of money would’ve convinced Andy to accept the contract. Any attempt would’ve been met with the same outcome: Cal’s further embarrassment. But fuck, there’s still so much unknown about this.

Cal’s gaze snaps up, and I realize I must’ve said that out loud .

“You’re right. There’s so much unknown right now”—he scrubs another hand over his tired face—“but ten o’clock gives us eight hours to prepare.

Luc, find out everything you can about the restaurant and who owns it.

Find out which territory they pay security fees to.

If it’s an outlier or the Bianchi’s, we need to know.

Everett, get a team ready to join us. They’ll surround the building at least an hour prior to the meet.

Matthias, follow up with Garrett about tracing the email, and let us know immediately if anything comes back sooner than expected. Understood?”

Each man nods, filing out of the room. I’m left alone with Callahan, who lets out a deep exhale and closes his eyes.

Even though it’s barely afternoon, a bone-deep tiredness tugs at my eyelids, and I can’t help but wonder if he feels the same.

My fingers itch to reach across the desk and take his, to lace them together and squeeze so tightly my knuckles turn white.

So instead of ignoring my instinct to stand and leave, I finally give in.

My fingers tremble as they reach over, but the warmth of his hand smothers any final hesitation.

I lace my fingers between his and squeeze, and to my surprise, he squeezes back.

Cal doesn’t open his eyes though, just holds my hand as we sit for a minute in silence, holding onto our sanity and each other with only our grimy hands.

The silence thickens, but it’s not uncomfortable. Finally, Cal looks up, and a sadness I haven’t seen in him stares back at me with open pain.

“An inch to the right, and I would’ve lost you today. And if we’d been any closer to the car that night at the Edwards’s, I could’ve lost you then, too.”

My heart thuds. Yes, we’ve escaped death a few times now, and I wonder once again: is this his life, or am I just special ?

“I can’t exist”—he moves a fist in front of his mouth and clears his throat—“in a world where you don’t, Ren.”

It’s so quick, the slip of his mask. Then he visibly shakes himself back into the hardened Callahan, turning in his chair and breaking all contact with me.

“It was a mistake to assign myself as your personal guard. I can’t do my job and keep you safe at the same time.

Matthias will take over as your primary guard, and Graves will remain as your driver and secondary.

Now go. Take a shower and get some rest.”

With that, he opens his laptop and begins to type away. I’m frozen where I sit, utter shock washing over his declaration. But once the numbness wears off, I’m left with a deep sadness that wrenches and contorts inside of me. He can’t be around me anymore.

My mouth flops open like a fish a few times before I’m finally able to get my voice to work. “Fine. When should I be ready to go by?”

This causes Cal to freeze, his fingers pausing on top of his laptop until he finally looks up at me. “Ready?” he scoffs. “For what?”

“To head to the restaurant tonight.”

Cal barks a harsh laugh, and I fight not to flinch.

“Loren, if you think for one fucking second that I’d ever allow you to enter a situation where I don’t know what the outcome will be, and can’t guarantee your safety, you’ve lost your mind.

You’re staying home, and that’s final.” He pauses and shrugs.

“In fact, thank you for reminding me of your rebellious nature. I’ll be sure to place two guards on our door tonight to ensure you don’t leave until morning. ”

A swell of anger mounts inside of me, and it lashes out without a second thought. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t need to put guards on your door. ”

“ Our door,” he corrects. “And based on your extracurricular activities the other night, it would stand to reason I do. Now go. Get cleaned up and get some rest.”

I scoff incredulously, but he’s dead serious.

He’s also right.

With a deep grumble, I stomp from the room. It might be petty, but I slam his office door with more force than necessary.