Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)

Callum watched Fiona’s back as she headed to the bathroom. He’d been damn well unable to take his eyes off the woman all night. She wore a short red dress that clung to her curves and made her creamy skin look so smooth that he yearned to run his hands over it. She’d paired the dress with red heels, drawing attention to her toned calves and thighs.

It was fucking torture.

The second she disappeared, he dragged his gaze back to his team. Tyler, Liam and Jason sat around him. Together, they made up half the guys who ran Blue Halo. Logan, Blake, Flynn and Aidan had decided to stay home with their women, and for Blake, that included his five-year-old daughter, Mila.

“How’s Emerson doing after everything that went down?” Jason asked Tyler.

Tyler’s partner had recently been through hell when both she and her brother were targeted by a deranged psychopath.

He lifted a shoulder. “I think she’s doing okay. Her brother’s doing well in the care facility where he’s receiving therapy, so I think that’s helping her. She’s still coming to terms with everything that happened with her ex, but she’s handling it well.”

Callum nodded, lifting his beer to his lips. “I’m glad she’s safe and you’re both happy.”

His friend was different since meeting Emerson. There was a new lightness about him. He smiled more often, and longer, and left the office earlier.

“I am happy,” Tyler said quietly, his lips curving into a smile. “Love will do that to a man.”

Liam shook his head. “What is it with this town? It’s like a damn love trap.”

Jason bumped his shoulder. “The beautiful, strong women help.”

Oh yeah. The women his teammates had found were strong. They’d had to be, with everything that had been thrown at them. Each had gone through their own nightmare in one form or another.

His gaze shot to the bathroom. Fiona was strong also. He still didn’t know her as well as he wanted, but he planned to change that.

He was still looking that way when the bathroom door opened and Fiona came out—only she didn’t look like she had when she’d stepped in there. Her skin was too pale and her eyes too wide.

What the hell?

She bumped into someone, then stopped and touched her chest.

Shit. Something was wrong.

He rose from the booth, ignoring the calls from the guys. As he walked toward her, he saw her attempt to step forward again, but she didn’t get far before the last scrap of color leached from her face and she looked like she was going to crumble.

Fuck.

He moved faster, sliding past groups of people and bar tables until he reached her. He grabbed her upper arms, hating the violent tremble in her limbs. “Fiona?”

Her eyes were on her shoulder, her chest heaving so quickly each breath was a whip of air. “Blood…”

His throat closed. There was blood? Where?

He scanned her face. Her shoulders. But he couldn’t see a damn drop. Was someone bleeding in the bathroom?

“His blood,” she gasped. “It’s all over me! Someone…someone shot him.”

Realization hit him like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t talking about here and now. She was talking about that night. She was having a flashback…a panic attack.

Quickly, he slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her close to his side. Her skin was too damn cold and her breathing still uneven. He maneuvered them through the crowd, sliding past people who were laughing and drinking, constantly watching both Fiona and the exit.

The second the cool outside air brushed his skin, he felt her breathing begin to slow. Heard her pulse return to an almost normal rate.

But he didn’t move away from her. Instead, he eased in front of her and touched his palm to her cheek, trying to bring some warmth back to her body. “Talk to me, Fi. Are you okay?”

Slowly, her gaze slipped up his stomach, his chest, then finally, her chestnut eyes met his. When she spoke, her voice was low with an audible tremble. “I thought I was okay. It wasn’t until I stepped into the bathroom that…”

That she realized she wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise. The bathroom was where the asshole had grabbed her. Fuck, Callum wished he could protect her from the memories. He wanted to turn back time and keep Levi from taking her to begin with.

“I’m sorry.” He felt responsible because it had been his team’s job to catch the guy who’d grabbed her. They hadn’t. At least, not in time.

Her lips parted. There was so much fear and torment in her expression that he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her against his chest and held her. For a split second, she was rigid. So still in his arms, he wondered if she’d push away. Then she eased into him, her shaky breaths brushing his chest. When her arms wrapped around his waist, she held him tightly, like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. Keeping her here, in this reality, and not in the past.

Minutes ticked by, calming the storms within each of them. It wasn’t until a woman’s voice sounded that he pulled back.

“Fiona.” The woman stopped a foot away, one hand pressed over her heart and looking at them, unsure.

Fiona pushed back, and it took a hell of a lot of strength to release her.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said quietly. “I couldn’t find you. I asked the bartender if he saw you go anywhere, and he said some guy led you out of here. I was worried.”

“I’m okay.”

The woman nodded, then finally looked up at him, and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No.” Fiona stepped away from him, like she was cementing that there was nothing going on. “I just had a moment. I’m fine now, but I think my night’s done.”

He opened his mouth to say he’d take her home, because damn, he wanted to stay close. To make sure she was as okay as she insisted she was.

“Are you okay driving me home, Jen?” Fiona asked.

Her friend nodded. “Of course.”

Fiona glanced up at him, the normal sassiness nowhere to be seen. “Thank you, Callum. You saved me again.”

Then he had no choice but to watch her walk away.