Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

Chapter 34

34

CALLUM

A gust of warm air whooshes into my face as I push through the door to exit the squad complex, the summer sun beating down relentlessly overhead. We’re in the middle of what feels like an endless heat wave. The grass of the practice field is crunchy underfoot as I step out onto it, dying of thirst and begging for rain, and despite the fact that I just showered off the sweat I worked up while training, my t-shirt is already clinging to my body like a second skin by the time I reach the outer gate to head for the parking lot.

“Yo Cal, wait up!” a voice calls from behind me, and I swivel to see Logan jogging my way, his clunky motorcycle boots thudding against the ground.

I pause to wait for him, idly twirling the keys to my Corvette around a finger.

He flashes me a smile as he approaches, two rows of straight white teeth gleaming and a pair of dimples sinking into his cheeks. Handsome fucker. “Think you can find some time this week to finish my chest piece?” he asks, fingers trailing over his left pec where he’s sporting my ink beneath his shirt.

“Yeah, for sure. My schedule’s wide open these days.” I rake a hand through my hair. ” Just let me know when you’re up for it.”

His eager grin widens. “Shit, I’d do it right now, but I’m headed to Westfield to see Jax and Quinn. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I shrug, though truthfully, I’m just as eager as he is. I’ve been fucking around with my tattoo gun on myself for a while now, but the only other person I’ve ever tattooed is Nessa. That is, until Logan and I got to talking about our ink while we were away on the mission. When he found out I’d done it all myself, he asked if I’d do one for him, and I jumped at the chance. There’s

just a certain thrill that comes with seeing my art come to life on someone else’s skin.

Logan claps me on the shoulder and the two of us start toward the parking lot, falling into an easy stride with one another. “So can we count on you for the next mission?” he asks, swinging his gaze to me. “The IT unit

thinks they may have identified another

offshoot of the shadow pack, wants to send a team to investigate.”

“Nah, man,” I grumble. “Think I’m gonna stick around here for a while.”

He arches a brow in surprise, stopping short in front of his motorcycle parked at the curb. I swivel to face him as I palm my keys.

“Any particular reason?” he asks, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

Yeah, Logan knows about Ness. He was tasked with leading the mission, and he’s the one person on our team that I really connected with- we’ve got a lot in common.

with our mutual passion for art and ink. He noticed all my sketchbooks lying around the dingy motel rooms we holed up in while we were away, and when he thumbed through one, he happened to see a sketch or two of!!!! my muse. Or fifty. I can’t help that all my recent sketchbooks are full of her face.OTR

He doesn’t wait for me to answer because he

already knows. “You get her back yet?”

“Working on it,” I grunt.

Logan gets a mischievous glint in his eye,

his smirk deepening. “Was that what you were doing at the swimming hole yesterday?” 3

Shit, I’d actually deluded myself into thinking Nessa and I had been discreet. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I drank that much- it’s not exactly like I was firing on all cylinders when I jumped her in the water.

I reach up to rub the back of my neck, wincing. “You saw that?”

“You two all over each other?” he snorts.

Yeah, hard to miss.”

While a natural reaction would probably be to feel something akin to embarrassment, for some reason, I get a surge of smug satisfaction, my wolf preening with pride for publicly staking our claim. Not that I have any right to, not after the way I left.

“I still don’t know where we stand,” I admit, heaving a sigh. “We were both a little drunk yesterday. I have a feeling she might have woken up this morning with second thoughts.”

“Ah, you’ll figure it out,” Logan says with a cavalier grin. “Take her out to a fancy dinner or buy her something nice. Girls love that shit.”

I shake my head, chuckling wryly. If only it were that easy. “Not this girl,” I mumble.

Even if I could afford to do that, Nessa’s not the type to be impressed by flashy presents or fine dining. It’s more about the little things with her. She’d take a scenic view over a stuffy restaurant any day, or a drawing out of my sketchbook over expensive jewelry. The things that make her eyes light up are the ones you can’t put a price tag on.

Logan shrugs, stepping up to his motorcycle and kicking a leg over. “Find another way to get back on her good side, then. You’ll think of something.” He starts the engine, the deep hum vibrating through my body as he revs it a few times. “Flowers usually help, all girls like flowers. There’s a floral shop in Summervale.” I wrinkle my nose at his suggestion and Logan shrugs again.

has a chance to sit

my hair back off my forehead, already damp with sweat after spending ten fucking minutes

flicks up the kickstand with a boot, rolling away from the curb. “Good luck,” he calls, shooting me a grin over his shoulder.

for my Corvette as I hear the roar of the motorcycle engine rumbling

got a point. The longer I wait before seeking out Nessa, the longer she’ll have to overanalyze what happened yesterday; the longer she’ll have to decide that she regrets it. If I want

to come up

are you doing here?” Nessa asks cautiously, clutching the edge of the heavy wooden front door of

confident swagger, but

is dry, my palms are clammy, and my heart is pounding so hard that it feels like it’s

six months ago would slap the shit out of me right now for being such a pussy and getting all awkward and nervous around a girl. This isn’t just any girl, though. Nessa’s my

hand, half hidden behind the back of my thigh. I lift the small bouquet of white flowers, thrusting them toward

breathes, her lips pulling

I didn’t even think to ask the florist at the shop in Summervale what kind they were; I just went in there and

for the amount of flowers I ended up walking out with, I thought I was getting a

any work for me at

fluttering. “They’re beautiful,” she smiles, pulling the door open wider and taking a step backwards. “Just let me put them in

you, Logan. 5

step inside while Nessa carries

the sink. “So where are you taking me?” she asks over her shoulder as she puts the flowers in the glass of water and arranges them just so, fussing over the

“You’ll see.”

spins around, eyeing me suspiciously, but I keep

relents, crossing in front of me to grab her shoes from beside the door. She bends at the waist to slip them on her feet, giving me a nice view

a perfect ass, perky and round. I get the flash of a memory of squeezing it in my hands, my fingertips sinking into her flesh as I bent her over and pounded into

twisting. It doesn’t register at first, but bile crawls up my throat when it hits me that she’s probably associating my

parked at the curb outside her parents’ house. Her eyes lit up, and it struck me how despite its flaws, she truly appreciated the beauty of the old, restored car that I had poured so much sweat and effort into. When she climbed in, I remember how she took in every detail of the dilapidated interior, running her fingers over the old leather seats reverently. And when I started it up, I saw her shiver of excitement at the purr of the engine, the delighted smile on her

now she eyes it with apprehension, all the good memories

and pressing my keys into her palm. ” Wanna

eyes widening in shock as they ping between the set of keys in her hand and my

from apprehension to excitement. “But this car’s like your baby,” she points out. “You sure you trust me

keys. Honestly, the thought of anyone else behind the wheel of this car makes me a little bit queasy, but I shove that

just bailing out on you.” I reach up to touch her face, running my thumb gently along the curve of her jaw. Her throat bobs beneath my knuckles with a hard swallow. “I know I fucked up everything when I left, but I’m trying to make it right. Figured the first step is establishing trust.” I flick my head toward the Corvette. “So

tip up, a smile slowly, beautifully, spreading across her face. I feel her little tremble of excitement

of place on this side of the Corvette. I watch Nessa climb in behind the wheel, her long tan legs slipping inside, her lithe fingers gripping the key as she turns it in

do- it’s just that this vehicle is one of the few things in this world that I give a shit about, and relinquishing control of it

isn’t it?” Nessa giggles from beside me, darting me a glance and clocking the

smile. I tip my head toward the windshield.” Eyes on the road,

the gear at the end of the driveway and

My lungs constrict.

little

to the left. She takes the turn, and I lean forward to hit the button for the

too fast for my liking, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the ceiling of the car, which she finds fucking hilarious. Although my heart’s in my throat, her giggle soothes my nerves like music to my ears. Nessa’s laugh is one of the things I

narrow one-lane road with sporadic places to pull off to let other cars through. There’s hardly ever any traffic, but the last thing I want is for her to chance it by going too fast and send the Corvette tumbling over the edge. The boys and I used to come up here to smoke sometimes, and there’s a killer view up at the top that I know

make

barely restraining myself from reaching

eyeroll. She does slow down, though, and when the Corvette finally rolls to a stop and she cuts the engine, I blow out a long breath, my muscles sore from being

throwing it off my shoulder. “C’mon,” I urge, opening the door and

out of the drivers’ side

ask, and I grin when she shakes

stony plateau, offering her a hand to help her up. As

on a swivel as she takes it all

can see the swell of nearby mountaintops and the snow-capped peaks of those in the distance. The lush foliage of the forest

face as she drinks

murmurs closer to

back before she can take another step. “Careful,” I warn, nodding toward the edge.

back to me with a smirk creasing her lips. “So you didn’t bring me out here to kill me?” she jokes.

I flinch.

to, and it’s the barest of movements, the slightest tic of my jaw. If she blinked, she’d miss it. She doesn’t, though. The smile drops from her

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