Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)

Every muscle in Callum’s body was tight as Flynn drove. He couldn’t believe he’d driven home with Olivia and not known she wasn’t Fiona. Yeah, he’d been distracted, but that goddamn distraction could cost Fiona her life.

His insides rebelled against the thought.

His entire team had gotten to his place within minutes of him calling. Now, Jason, Liam, Aidan, and Logan drove in cars behind him and Flynn, while Tyler waited for the police at the house so they could arrest Olivia. She’d be driven to Fiona and Freddie’s first stop by the police, just in case they weren’t there.

Blake had gone to the library to make sure Fiona wasn’t there. Olivia had told them Freddie had already taken her, but he needed all bases covered. It hadn’t taken him long to get the information he needed. A few bullets to the floor beside her head and hand and she’d cracked.

The entire team was working on this. Eight former soldiers. Eight men who were the equivalent of an army. But their skills would all be for nothing if they were too late. If the loan sharks who were after Olivia got to Fiona first.

His cell rang and Blake’s number came up on the screen. He answered on the first ring. “Is she still there?”

“No.”

Callum cursed. He’d known the chance was low, exactly why he was going to the house Freddie had rented for the night, but there’d been that dim hope.

“I checked the basement and found drops of blood by the door in the office,” Blake continued. “Then more by the back door.”

Callum’s chest tightened. “Blood?” The fucker had hurt her?

Flynn pressed his foot harder to the gas.

“It’s not much, just a few drops here and there.” Wind blew over the line. “I’m going to head to the location now.”

“We’re half an hour away,” Callum said through gritted teeth. Too damn far.

He hung up, clenching the phone so tightly in his fist it was close to being crushed.

Flynn looked at him. “We won’t be too late. He would have gone the speed limit to avoid detection, so we’re going to make up ground.”

“If I’d just realized earlier—”

“Don’t do that to yourself. She spent months making sure she was a perfect replica of Fiona, even going as far as to practice on people she knew. She would have fooled anyone.”

He should have paid closer damn attention.

Flynn shot him a glance. “We have to be smart when we get there.”

“You think I won’t be?”

“I think if we find Fiona in a dangerous situation, you might put yourself at risk to save her.”

Damn straight he would. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d watch her die to protect himself.

The gun felt heavy in his harness. If they’d harmed a hair on her head, he wouldn’t use it. He’d tear the assholes apart with his bare hands. No pause. No hesitation.

“We remember our training,” Flynn said quietly. “And we get everyone out alive.”

They sure as hell better.

Fiona focused on deep breaths to keep from being sick. She’d come in and out of consciousness for a while, the consistent hum of the engine continuing to pull her under. The ache in her head combined with the drugs still flowing through her system was unrelenting. It stole almost all her energy.

She didn’t know how long had passed before she finally turned to look at Freddie. He hadn’t bound her wrists again, but she knew that if she tried her door, it would be locked. He looked so calm now. Because he thought he’d won? God, she wanted to hit the smugness out of him. The asshole really thought he could just keep her? Hell no.

Her gaze lowered to his side, where she’d stabbed him. He’d wrapped some gauze around his waist and the blood on his shirt was now dry.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

Was he serious? “No, Freddie. I’m not okay. I’ve been drugged, hit on the head, and kidnapped while another woman takes my life!”

Only a freaking psychopath would think she’d be okay after all of that.

He swallowed, his knuckles whitening on the wheel. “You stabbed me and ran, Fiona. You should consider yourself lucky that all I did was hit you.”

A low laugh that was the furthest thing from humorous escaped her lips. “You’re right. Thank you for hitting me over the head and kidnapping me, Freddie. Thank you for deciding this was the better option than going to the police when Olivia told you what she planned to do.”

His sharp breath was audible in the car. “Sarcasm isn’t attractive on you. And I’m doing what I think is best for us.”

“No. You’re doing what you think is best for you.” She sucked in a long breath in an attempt to keep the nausea and light-headedness at bay. Then she straightened and touched his arm, needing to convince him to turn this car around. “Freddie. You need help. I’m not sure when this spiral in your mental health started, but normal people do not kidnap women.”

His chest rose and fell so heavily, she wondered if maybe she was getting through to him. “It started when you left me. When Amanda started criticizing every aspect of my life. Wanting to know where I was every second of the goddamn day. When she started shopping for cribs when there was no fucking baby!”

He slammed his fist against the wheel, and she jumped, snatching her hand back.

“It started,” he continued, “when I tried to replace you with Stacey. But she wasn’t you. Not even close. It started when I saw you with another man. When you teased me with the idea that we could be together again, then pulled away. When we had a blissful night together.”

“Freddie, that wasn’t me,” she stated firmly, suddenly seeing more pain in his gaze than anything else. “You already know it wasn’t.”

“It was. In my head, it was you.” He swallowed and straightened, seeming to get a hold of his emotions. “And it will be again.”

Jesus Christ.

He pulled off the main road onto what looked like a dirt driveway. “We’re here. Tomorrow morning, we’ll drive to the property I bought.”

Okay, this wasn’t terrible. She had a night close to Cradle Mountain and the house was near a semi-busy road. If she could get away from Freddie and back to the road, she might just be able to flag someone down to help her.

Different escape plans ran through her head. She’d have to get a look at the house. See what she could use as a weapon.

Her mind was moving a million miles a minute when a car suddenly pulled out from behind some trees into the drive, right in front of them. Freddie slammed his foot on the brake and cursed.

Another car pulled out from the other side of the house. Both had their high beams on.

When lights shone from behind, Fiona swung her head around to see two more cars.

“What the hell is this?” Freddie gasped.

Dread clawed at her gut. It dug so deep, she struggled to get air. “Freddie…did you tell Olivia you were bringing me here?”

His gaze swung to her. “Yes. She asked what my plan was, so I told her.”

Her heart started to pound to a new rhythm, loud and hard in her chest.

“What?” Freddie asked.

“Olivia stole money from some really bad people, then she ran. If she took over my life, she may have put me into hers to get them off her back.”

All the color drained from Freddie’s face.

The doors of the cars in front of them opened, and big men in sleeveless shirts, all of them riddled in tattoos, stepped out, two from each car. The guns in their hands made a new wave of terror weave through her belly.

“Get out,” one of the men yelled.

For a moment, Fiona was still, not because she was intentionally going against the order, but because she was utterly paralyzed. Unable to move. Unable to speak.

The same man lifted his gun and aimed for their windshield. “Get out now, or I’ll shoot you through the glass.”

Move, Fiona.

The shout in her head had her trembling fingers reaching for the door. It opened, but when she turned, she saw Freddie was still sitting there, so pale she wondered if he’d pass out. She shoved his shoulder.

“Freddie, we need to get out or they’ll kill us.”

Her words seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he’d been in. He undid his seat belt and climbed out with her. She turned to look behind them, spotting an almost identical scene of four men standing in front of two cars.

Eight men in total surrounded them, all armed. Unless she could talk her way out of this, she was screwed.

She lifted her hands and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Freddie did.

“She’s not Olivia! And I’m not part of this. We can tell you where the real Olivia is, but you need to let us—”

The bullet cut through the air, hitting Freddie between the eyes.

Fiona’s heart stopped, her world almost fading to black. She covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed the car with the other to keep herself upright.

Freddie…dead. The two words together didn’t compute in her head.

Before she could completely fall apart, her arm was grabbed from behind and she was shoved forward. The fingers were tight and punishing, and she stumbled so many times, she wasn’t sure how she made it in front of the car. But when she was, the man who’d done the talking came forward, only stopping when he was right in front of her. Then he studied her. Her eyes. Her face.

“You killed him,” she whispered, the words tortured. She hadn’t liked Freddie. Hell, the man had been planning to keep her hostage. But she’d known him for so long…dated him for six years. She hadn’t wanted him to die.

“You look different, Cohls. I almost thought it wasn’t you. You clean up good.” He tilted his head. “If it wasn’t for the eyes, I’d assume that tip-off was wrong.”

She swallowed, terror stealing her voice. She wasn’t sure if speaking or not speaking was better. These men obviously killed without hesitation.

“Freddie was right,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. “I’m not Olivia. I’m her twin sister.”

The men around her laughed. Even the man in front of her cracked a smile. “You forget, Cohls, I’ve known you a long time. You have no twin. No fucking family. I must admit, this sweet-girl act is convincing, though.” He cocked his head. “You’ve done a good job, creating this little…disguise.”

“My name is Fiona Lock. Olivia went into foster care, but I was adopted. I can take you to her.”

The smile dropped from his face, and suddenly, the muzzle of his gun pressed to her forehead. “You know how much I hate your lies. I’ve heard them too many fucking times. And you know what else I hate? That you took money from me. Money you had no intention of paying back. You should have been smarter than that. No one steals from me and lives.”

A tear fell from the corner of her eye, and the only thing she could think about in that moment was that she hadn’t had enough time with Callum. To love him. To know him. To belong to him, and for him to belong to her.

The man’s lips twitched. “Think about that while you rot in hell, Cohls.”

The sound of a gunshot exploded.

It stopped her heart. Her breath. Her entire world. It made every emotion inside her heighten and sharpen.

It took her a fraction of a second to realize she was still standing and another to realize the man in front of her was on the ground.

Her lips parted, her gaze flying around her to see the other men shifting their focus to the trees, cursing as they aimed their weapons. A new gun was pressed to her head by a man behind her—but then another shot rang out, and he dropped as well.

The men suddenly took cover behind cars. Fiona wasn’t sure if she should be running or hiding. She did neither. Because yet again, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t believe she was still standing.

Suddenly, bodies flew out of the trees, attacking the remaining hiding men so fast she almost couldn’t track them.

But she did.

She spotted Liam and Jason. Then Callum and Flynn. They killed with precision, their speed and strength far greater than those of the other men.

The ease with which they took them out made her knees weak and her lungs seize.

She watched as Callum snapped a man’s neck like it was a twig. Then his gaze found her. He blurred in front of her as the lack of air and the throbbing in her head caused the little energy she had left to disappear.

Fiona began to fall, but Callum’s body became a blur again—this time as he raced toward her, grabbing her waist moments before she crumpled.

She leaned her head to his chest, breathing him in. “Callum.”

“I’m here, honey. You’re safe.”

She closed her eyes and let him hold her, the night around them going silent. The violence was over.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed buried against his chest. She only pulled away when sirens sounded. She knew she’d have to talk to people, but she had no energy and her head was killing her.

Doors opened and closed, then a voice sounded. A familiar voice.

“Why am I fucking here?”

Fiona turned her head to see a woman who looked exactly like her, standing in cuffs.

Callum’s mouth went to her ear. “They brought her in case we didn’t find you,” he whispered. “So she could help us.”

Finally, the woman looked at her—and her eyes narrowed.

Like her feet had a mind of their own, Fiona tried to move away from Callum.

“Fiona—”

She turned to look at him, his arm still firmly around her waist. “I need to talk to her.”

His chest moved up and down, then his jaw ground before he reluctantly moved forward with her.

“You,” Olivia growled. “They were supposed to fucking kill you!”

There was so much hate in her voice that each word hit harder. But Fiona’s voice was surprisingly calm. “You could have just come to me, explained things and asked for help.”

Olivia laughed, the sound filled with scorn and bitterness. “I came to Cradle Mountain thinking I’d find a woman who’d experienced the same shit life I had. You know what I found instead? The sister who was given everything I wasn’t. Opportunity. Love. Privilege. You got it all, and I got nothing!”

“That wasn’t my doing.”

“You think that changes anything? No. It was my turn to have it all.”

Tears pressed to Fiona’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. Instead, she shifted further into Callum’s embrace. “I would have loved you. And I would have helped you. I wish you’d chosen differently.”

Then Fiona walked away from the sister she’d never known, the sister she never would know, ignoring her curses and angry shouts, understanding with everything she was, that if their situations had been reversed, she would have chosen differently.