Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

31

CALLUM

The tip of my pencil moves against the page in quick, sure, strokes as a Nine Inch Nails song blasts through my earbuds, a heavy guitar rift drilling into my skull. The eyes I’m currently drawing are etched into my memory; surrounded in a fan of long, dark lashes and brimming with sadness. I wish I’d never seen that sorrowful look in her eyes. I wish even more that I wasn’t the one who put it there. And I wish I wasn’t stuck in a masochistic loop of drawing her eyes like this over and over again, forcing myself to confront the cruel consequences of my actions.

Sketching used to be my escape. Now, it’s my penance.

I’m so in the zone that I’ve tuned out everything around me- I don’t even realize someone is knocking on my apartment door until the pounding grows more insistent, rattling the door on its hinges and causing pples to form in my water glass beside me. yank out one of my earbuds, jerking my ead up to stare warily in the direction of the oor.

Whoever’s banging their fist against the >ther side clearly isn’t going away, and my nind immediately conjures up the worst- case scenario of who it could be. Fuckface has been blowing up my phone since I got back into town. I’m sure he’s figured out by now that I never put in a good word for Spence with our alpha before leaving, and he’s no doubt pissed about me failing to follow orders like a good little soldier. I wish I could avoid the guy forever like the plague he is, but he always seems to find a way to track me down.

I have half a mind to keep ignoring the knocking at my door, hoping he’ll just go away, and I even go so far as to pick up my earbud and start to slip it back into my ear. Before I do, though, I hear a voice call out that stops me in my tracks.

Her voice.

“Callum? I know you’re in there.”

My breath catches, my pulse skyrocketing.

I tear my other earbud out, tossing them both onto the side table and shooting to my feet. My sketchbook and pencil clatter to the floor, but I hardly even notice until I’m stumbling over them, nearly tripping over my feet in my haste to get to my apartment door. I can’t get it open fast enough; my heart pounds at a chaotic rhythm as I fumble with the lock, nearly tearing the door from its hinges when I finally get it open.

The girl on the other side looks like a goddamn angel descended from heaven and dropped on my doorstep. Her light blue sundress contrasts with her glowing bronze skin, her dark hair swept back in a casual ponytail and her face makeup free. I swear Nessa has never looked more beautiful than she does right now standing in front of me, brown eyes wide and puffy lips slightly parted on a sharp intake of breath when our gazes meet.

She’s here.

I don’t know why or what it means, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Stunned into silence, I step aside and gesture for her to come in, her sweet floral and cherry scent assaulting my senses as she glides past me into my apartment.

I kick the door closed, my eyes glued to Nessa as she wanders further inside, then spins around to face me.

“I thought you might want this back,” she says, and only then do I realize that she’s got my sketchbook clutched to her chest, grasping it so tightly that her knuckles are white.

“You can keep it,” I mutter, shoving my hands into the pockets of my low-hanging sweats and striding toward her with jerky steps. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “How many more?”

I shrug, gesturing to the stack of sketchbooks on the small table beside the recliner. “Take your pick.”

Nessa eyes the stack with curiosity, shuffling closer and running her fingers along the spines. “Are all the drawings like these ones?” she asks, depositing the book she carried in on the top of the stack and tapping the cover with a silver-painted fingernail.

I swipe a hand over my chin, eyes roaming over her form appreciatively before meeting her own again. I probably shouldn’t be checking her out right now, but fuck, I can’t help myself. She’s gorgeous. “I told you before that you were my muse.”

instead. ” I need to know, Callum,” Nessa murmurs, her back turned to me. She suddenly spins around, her eyes blazing with fierce determination as they lock with mine. “No, I deserve to know. After putting me through hell, the least you can do is tell me the real reason why you left.”

and raising a hand

touch. She stares up at me in demand, pressing a palm to my chest, right over my pounding heart. “No more excuses.

my hesitation causes her demeanor to shift. She rips her hand away, and I immediately ache from the loss of her contact. Her eyes flare in desperation and she folds her arms over her chest protectively. “Don’t you think I deserve to know?” she asks, a sharp edge

her biceps and pulling her closer. “Not enough?!” I

arms out of my grasp, stepping back with fresh tears shining in her eyes.

to soothe it away. Without thinking, I move forward again, wrapping my arms around Nessa and yanking her into my chest. She doesn’t resist or struggle; instead, her body melts into mine, every soft curve of her meeting every hard edge of me. She buries a muffled sob in my t-shirt and I hold onto her

of her head. “So fucking sorry. I should’ve

months, I’ve ached to hold Nessa like this. I wish it was under different circumstances; that she was happy, rather than wetting my shirt with her tears. I soak up every second that I have her in my arms, though,

me to hold her for another minute or two before she starts to wriggle away. Reluctantly, I relinquish my grip, my fingertips trailing

my shoulders. slumping in defeat.

aren’t going to

so wide, so vulnerable. She doesn’t know the truth of who I am

the truth will set you free?

truth feels like a death sentence. I can’t see a life worth living without the girl beside me

It’s time to man up and tell her, even

fucked things up beyond repair, so

on me as I recount the same story I told Chase, and even though it’s a special kind of torture to see her reaction play out on her face, I don’t look away. I watch as she takes it all in, and when I get to the part about how I killed the woman from Boulder with my

‘house, Troy reminded me of what I’d done,” I grind out, my throat tightening. ” He reminded me that it could happen again, to you, and I just… fuck, I knew

long pause hangs between us as she digests

left,” Nessa whispers.

It was the only way to make sure that what happened to her wouldn’t happen to you. I’d never fucking forgive myself if I lost control with you like that.”

lower lip between her teeth, wringing her hands in her

much harder to do what I had to,” I grumble, shaking my head. “It killed me to

to protect you from

I absently trace a fingertip over the little heart she tattooed on my wrist. “Do you get it now? Why we can’t be together?”

and paces toward me again. I watch as she goes back and forth, practically seeing the wheels in her head spinning. I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands as I listen to her footsteps treading against the

her chest and her eyes rounded in sincerity. “You’d never hurt me,” she says resolutely. “Not physically. I know you

reaching out to gather her in my arms. She falls into

she whimpers, her

The pain laced in her words makes something inside me crack open and bleed, and I just wish I knew how to fix it. How to make it better. “I still do, Ness,” I admit, feeling the thump of

face with both hands, angling it up to mine and staring deeply into her eyes. “I love you,

not,” she breathes, covering my hands with her

made a mistake. That doesn’t make you

that wide-eyed idealism. Her way of seeing the good in everyone. I don’t

my forehead against hers. “You’re too good, you know that?” I grumble, sweeping the pad of my thumb