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.”

” 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

eyes closed and raising a

distance between us in a few quick strides until she’s close enough to touch. She stares up at me in demand, pressing a palm to my chest, right over my pounding heart. “No

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 to her voice that betrays her emotions. “Why’d you say you

closer. “Not enough?!” I

arms out of my grasp, stepping back with fresh tears shining in her eyes. “Then why, Callum?

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

choke, pressing my lips to the crown of her head. “So

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, because it

I relinquish my grip, my fingertips trailing down her arms until I take her hands

shoulders. slumping in defeat.

aren’t going to like what you

seat beside me, looking to me expectantly. I try to memorize the way she’s looking at me right now. Her eyes are so wide, so vulnerable. She doesn’t know the truth of who I am yet, and once she does, I have a feeling she’ll never

say- the truth will set you free?

feels like a death sentence. I can’t see a life

drag in a labored breath, rubbing my hands over my face and fighting against my frayed nerves. It’s time to man up and tell

already fucked things up beyond repair, so

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 bare hands, she sucks in a sharp gasp of alarm.

reminded me of what I’d done,” I grind out, my throat tightening. ” He reminded me that it could

hangs between us as she digests my

you left,”

in my throat. “I decided that night that I had to. It was the only way to make

worries her lower lip between her teeth, wringing her hands in her lap. “But the full

so much harder to do what I had to,” I grumble, shaking my head. “It killed me to walk away that night, but even the mate bond didn’t change the risk

to protect you

heart she tattooed on my wrist. “Do you get it now? Why we can’t

couch, pacing away. She takes a few steps, then turns sharply and paces toward me again. I watch as she goes back and forth, practically seeing the wheels in her head spinning. I lean

tightly over her chest and her eyes rounded in sincerity. “You’d never hurt me,” she says resolutely. “Not physically. I know you wouldn’t. But leaving without a word? That hurt,

to my feet, reaching out to gather her in my arms. She falls into them, fisting my shirt

you loved me,” she whimpers, her

and caused so much damage. 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 her heartbeat against my body, matching the steady thrum of my own. “I never fucking stopped.”

both hands, angling it up to mine and staring deeply into her eyes. “I love you, but I’m a fucking

breathes, covering my hands with her own and shaking her head. ”

That doesn’t make you a monster. I know you,

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

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