Colters' Promise

Page 2

Dillon snorted. “And don’t even think about coming back to the bar. You’re done. I’ll throw your scrawny ass out of here if you show your face.”
Callie sighed, not that she’d argue. She only worked in Dillon’s bar when Max was gone, which wasn’t often. It gave her something to do to pass the time. She knew Max wasn’t particularly fond of her working in the bar, but he didn’t say anything, which likely killed him.
She and Max … Well, they shared a different type of relationship. Which when she considered that her fathers and her brothers all had a very nontraditional relationship with their one wife, her and Max’s situation wasn’t that eyebrow raising.
Max was dominant. He expected—demanded—submission. Her submission. But he cherished it and her. But just because she willingly chose to submit to him, he never attempted to curb her free spirit. He loved it too much. He often told her that caging someone such as her was to squash everything that made her the woman he loved.
He was dominant, yes, but he spoiled, pampered, and lavished her with so much love and understanding that she simply couldn’t imagine her life any other way. His dominance settled her. Provided her a much-needed sanctuary and haven. She was safe with Max. And she was free to be herself because he loved everything she was.
“Going to bed now,” she mumbled to Dillon. “Promise.”
“Take care of yourself, Callie,” Dillon said. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She ended the call and dropped her arm over the edge of the couch. The phone dangled from her fingertips before hitting the floor with a thud.
It was cold. Her chill bumps even had chill bumps. But she was too miserable to get up and get something for the fever she was sure she had.
Going to her mom and dads’ place sounded good, but it would require moving. She could call her mom to come over. If she hadn’t dropped the phone already. Being babied by Holly Colter would make anyone feel better.
She tucked her hand back underneath her body and then turned to face the inside of the couch. She reached blindly for the blanket that lay over the back of the couch and pulled it down, drawing up her knees so she could huddle under it.
Oh bliss. She closed her eyes and immediately drifted off.
MAX Wilder pulled into his drive and turned off the windshield wipers. The snow was coming down harder, adding to the few inches already accumulated on the ground.
He got out, eager to see Callie again. He didn’t spend much time apart from her, but when Lauren had called, and he’d heard the quiet desperation in her voice, his single-minded goal had been to get to her as fast as possible. In retrospect, he should have taken Callie. It would have been good for Lauren to have Callie there. He hadn’t thought. He’d simply reacted and had done as he’d always done. Gone immediately to protect his family.
Only now his family went beyond Lauren. Their mother had passed just a few years earlier, leaving Max and Lauren alone. He’d always been fiercely protective of both his mom and his sister, and he’d been used to being a lone wolf. He was the protector. The provider. He didn’t depend on other people. His sister depended on him.
Now he had Callie. And he had the Colters. All of them. It was something he was still getting accustomed to. This whole idea of having a large, extended family. Not just any family, but one that was closely knit and fiercely loyal and would do anything, go to any lengths to protect their own. And he and Lauren were a part of that now.
As he mounted the front steps, he frowned. Usually Callie was at the door to meet him, even if he’d just taken a short trip into town for groceries. He’d grown accustomed to her enthusiastic greetings, and he loved the way she lit up when she saw him again.
He let himself in and opened his mouth to call out to her when he saw her on the couch in the living room. He smiled and put his suitcase down. On quiet feet, he walked to the sofa to stare down at her, curled into a ball, sound asleep.
It wasn’t like her to sleep in, but if he had to guess, she’d worked the night before in her brother’s bar. He wasn’t crazy about her doing it, but he didn’t say anything about it. Plus she only did so on the rare occasions when he was out of town and she stayed home.
He leaned down to kiss her temple but as soon as his lips touched her skin, he frowned and drew away. He put his hand to her forehead, cursing softly when he felt the dry heat radiating from her flesh.
She was sick.
And he’d left her alone.
He knelt by the couch and gently shook her. “Callie. Dolcezza, wake up.”
She grumbled softly in her sleep, and when she opened her eyes, they were dull. Her cheeks were flushed with fever and she blinked several times as if she were unaware of her surroundings.
Worry ate at his gut. She was his. Completely and utterly his. To love, to protect, and he’d left her alone because he’d been gutted by his sister’s plea for help. He should never have left Callie. She should have been with him every step of the way.
“Max,” she whispered. Then she smiled. A warm beautiful smile that made the very heart of him ache. “You’re home.”
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home immediately. How long have you been sick?”
“Just last night,” she croaked. She broke off and rubbed her throat.
He frowned again because he didn’t like to see her in discomfort. “Hurt?”
She nodded. “I was okay when I went in. Really. But I started feeling bad not long into it. I didn’t want to call Dillon. I thought I could make it. I crashed here as soon as I got home.”
He stroked a hand over her forehead. “Wait here. I’ll go get something for your fever.”
She nodded, her eyes already closing again.
He got up and hurried into the kitchen to the cabinet where they kept the medicine. He frowned as he stared at the acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Finally he grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, filled a glass half full of water, and went back into the living room.
Callie was back into a tight ball, and he could see her shivering from across the room.
He set the glass on the coffee table and carefully pulled her up and into his arms. She promptly burrowed into his chest and sighed in contentment.
“Take your medicine, dolcezza. It will make you feel better. After you’ve swallowed your pills, I’ll take you to bed. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable out of these clothes.”
She shook her head against his chest. “Will you build a fire instead? Want to stay here and snuggle.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.”
“Love you.”
The soft words came out a little breathy, but they gave him the same thrill they always did. No matter how often she told him, he soaked the words in and held them close. She was everything to him. Her love was the most precious gift he’d ever been given.
“I love you too.”
“Missed you.”
“I missed you too, dolcezza. Now take your medicine so I can build a fire and make you more comfortable. Want your pj’s or one of my shirts?”
“Mmm, your shirt, please.”
He smiled. It was a wonder he had any sort of a wardrobe left, because she routinely stole his shirts to sleep or lounge in. It gave him a ridiculous thrill to see his clothing on her. Just another stamp of his possession. Like the bands she wore on her wrists. She was his.
Oh, she had a wedding ring. A gorgeous princesscut diamond that had appalled her with how much it cost. But the platinum cuffs she wore around both wrists … Those were more special than even the symbol she wore on her finger. They were what signified her bond to him. Her submission.
They were intricately designed, made especially for her, and he’d had them engraved. On the outside of one, along the bottom, read two halves of a whole. And on the other was we are one. And on the inside of each in flowing script, Max and Callie.
He gently placed the pills on her tongue, then held up the glass so she could sip at the water. She winced and swallowed hard, putting her hand to her throat as the pills finally went down.
“I should take you to the doctor,” he said. “You might have strep throat.”
“If I’m not better by tomorrow, I’ll go. Promise. Going to the doctor means having to move, and right now I just want you to hold me.”
He eased her back onto the couch, pressing another kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back. Just need to get some wood to start the fire. I’ll get one of my shirts and pillows and another blanket.”
She opened her eyes to stare up at him. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
His heart softened at the love in her eyes and voice. He touched her cheek and then hurried toward the door leading outside to the patio where he kept wood stacked.
A few minutes later, flames licked over the dry wood. He hurriedly collected the items from the bedroom and returned to Callie.
He sat her up and she leaned into him as he undressed her down to her socks. He left them on, not wanting her to get cold, and then pulled his shirt on her and buttoned it all the way to the top.
After kicking off his shoes, he settled onto the couch, propping pillows around her before pulling her against him.
She let out a sigh and snuggled deeply into his arms, burrowing until she was damn near underneath him.
“I feel better already,” she said against his chest.
He kissed her again, unable to stop himself from touching her. His arms were full of the woman he loved. He was home. There was no better feeling.
“Is Lauren all right?”
He blew out a long sigh and clutched her a little closer to ease the pain that had suddenly crept through his chest. “No. She’s not.”
Callie tried to raise her head, but he pulled her down, holding her against him.
“What happened?”
“The man she was with …” He couldn’t even form the words. It made him angry to even think it. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of Callie’s head. “He abused her.”
Such a simple word that in no way conveyed what this man had done to his baby sister. He’d savaged her. Broken her in body and spirit. Abused? No, the word simply didn’t do justice to the damage he’d inflicted.
“Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. What happened? Where is she now? Why didn’t you bring her back with you?”
“I tried. She wouldn’t come. She’s ashamed. God, Callie, I can see it in her eyes. She can barely even look me in the face. She called me only because it had gotten bad, and she was afraid he’d kill her. She was hiding at a friend’s house, terrified that at any moment the bastard would find her.”
This time Callie did sit up and fire was in her eyes. “Max, she has to come here. She shouldn’t be alone now!”
“No of course not,” he soothed. “I’d never leave her alone and unprotected. I’ve taken care of it. And yes, I agree. She needs to be here. I don’t plan to back off, but she’s overwhelmed right now. I was …” He broke off and sighed. “I was afraid to push her too hard. She seems so fragile and so near her breaking point. I moved her into an apartment. I’ve hired someone to shadow her at all times. I also reported the asshole who abused her to the police. There’s a warrant out for his arrest right now.”
“What did he do to her?” Callie asked, tears brimming in her eyes.
“He beat the hell out of her,” Max said, bleakness nearly overwhelming him.. “She says he didn’t rape her, but I’m not sure I believe that. I’m so angry. And I feel helpless. She was ashamed to call me and wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been a last resort.”
“She’ll be safe here,” Callie vowed.
Max nodded. “I want her here by Christmas. I’m giving her space and time for the bruises to fade. She didn’t want anyone to see her as she is now. It’s frustrating because I don’t care. I just want her here, with me, where I know she’s safe and taken care of. But she refused to even consider coming right now, and as I said, I was afraid to push too hard. I have a cop friend who’s going to check in on her as well, and he’ll also keep me posted when they find that little bastard.”
Callie hugged him tightly and he shook his head at the idea that as sick as she was, she was offering him comfort. He kissed her again and hugged her back, letting her sweetness wash over him.
“I should have seen it.” He let some of the pent-up despair that had lived with him for the last few days ease from his chest. Grief was thick in his throat. “I’ve always checked up on her boyfriends in the past. But this time I let it go. I told myself she wasn’t a baby anymore. That I should trust her judgment.”
Callie reached up and cupped his face. She looked at him with such love and tenderness that, again, he was shamed by the thought that he should be doing all he could to offer her comfort.