Colour Series Box Set (64 page)

“I can’t answer you Callum because I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what I want or how I feel or anything. You have bulldozed into my life, my home my job and my fucking heart!” I am yelling now and I cannot stop. “I don’t want to want you, but I do. I am afraid all you see is Cassie’s ghost, I am afraid I will kill you. And I probably will. I am afraid of the way you hurt me, but I am even more afraid of the softness I saw in you for a second because that Callum could fucking kill me. So there are words for you. I fucking don’t know. You haven’t given me a moment to think, to clear my mind, to fucking breathe or even pee. I don’t know Callum.” I am having trouble catching my breath and my heart is racing. I am ugly crying and I know it. My teeth are clenched as are my fists, I can feel the rage, but there is no grey with it just the burn of a dull ache in my chest. An unbearable, agonizing pain I cannot explain.

I wait for him to respond. I shouldn’t have. He just turns around pulls on his wet boxers off the floor and leaves my home. Not a word, not a goodbye. Fucking nothing.

I hear his car start. He left, he went outside in the freezing cold wearing only his boxers and left.

I imagine him walking through the hotel lobby in his wet undies and the looks he will get and I feel a stab of jealousy at the thought of anyone seeing him that way. In an instant, I know I have made the mistake of falling for Callum. The ache turns to a punch in the gut at the realisation of what that means. I am about to lose a critical part of myself and replace it with a man that has the eyes of the devil and heart of ice. A man who will hurt me in so many ways.

THREE FUCKING DAYS, three days and still not a single word from him. I don’t even think anyone has fucking seen him. The family discovered Joel’s untimely death and they are all on their toes over what Connor may have done to cause such wrath. I know what he did, he broke a little boy and then he broke the man that boy became. Stupidly he underestimated that boy. Callum is the product of his family and of the way they treated him.  I know because I am a product of both my family and his. The ache won’t go away it is there all the time, nothing soothes it.

The surgery has been busy with little accidents happening all over, the help of the new doctor has been a weight off me. I have let Dr Conley Duncan take over most of the shitty work and anyone I don’t want to deal with. In other words, all the O’Reilly’s.

 Megan, I am sure, is stalking the new doctor and follows him everywhere, even on Facebook. The man is not ugly, he is handsome and seems genuinely good, but his family owes the O’Reilly’s something or he wouldn’t be here. I have kept our interactions professional only and have actually spent large portions of my day trying to avoid him and his uncomfortable stares. He would be dead by the end of the week if I didn’t. He was what girls drooled over, lusted for and then settled down with, the opposite of Callum. I will leave him for Megan; she could use a decent man in her life.

I am hiding in my office when I hear Megan sputtering off about how busy I am with someone; the bell on the door had alerted me to the fact that we had a patient. Dr Conley can handle it I am sure.  I concentrate on the screen in front of me and continue to order the supplies and meds we need for the surgery. I am enjoying the mundaneness of these tasks compared with what I typically deal with every day. I feel him enter my space; he sucks the air right out of my office, my skin prickles as the goose bumps creep up and over my arms. I thought he gave up, he walked away in his fucking undies and never returned, not even a damn text. I look anywhere but up, my half full coffee cup is next to me I am sure it’s cold but I take a sip of it, I want to gag at the cold milky liquid. I still don’t look up I sense him getting closer to me. My body reacts to him, my palms sweat my heart quickens, my stomach rolls with waves of apprehension and I feel my breath catching on every exhale. My mind still says fuck him, he walked away after he confessed all that fucked up shit made me act like a fool and then walked out in his undies! Fuck him! Stop body, he is not a nice person.
Neither are you,
my brain answers right back. The pain in my chest goes away as he comes even closer.

I look up to find him seated in the chair on the other side of my desk, all gentlemanly and sex god-y, fuck him.
Really?
He smiles at me and I want to climb over the desk and kill him or rape him, maybe both. There it is, the grey! I wondered how long it would take. Five minutes. Now it’s my smile that creeps over my face as I imagine him begging for his life. I shake with the shiver of satisfaction that would bring me.

“Hello, Shannon I see you still want to kill me.” My smile turns deadpan, how does he know what I think, how does he read me so well. In an instant, he can tell what I want. “Very much so. Hello Callum, to what do I owe the pleasure?”  I try to keep my voice calm and emotionless, but the sarcasm just leaks out on its own. I am on tender hooks wanting to know why he has returned. What he wants?

“We are going to dinner; I will wait while you finish your work.” He cocks his head towards my computer. “I am not in the mood to go out Callum.” I will not cave so easily to his bullshit. He stands up and leans his massive frame across my desk, his large hand wraps around my neck making every breath an effort. He gets so close I can smell him and feel his breath on me, his eyes are cold and angry and evil. “Yes you do, Shannon yes you do. Hurry the fuck up, we are going out.” He lets me go and I draw in as much air as I can. I touch the skin where his hand just left and I know it will bruise. I can’t stop Callum from what he wants so I may as well stop trying. I nod at him. “Words woman, fucking words use them.” He roars at me now slamming his fist down on my desk. “I’m sorry Callum. Where are we going? Do I need to change?” I try sounding sweet and apologetic, but it just seems fake and forced. “To my hotel, and no you don’t need to change.” He grunts out as I reach under the desk for my handbag. He looks at it, then at me. “Leave it here; you won’t be killing me or anyone else tonight princess.” How did he know what I have in there?   I don’t argue just drop the bag on the floor and grab my phone. Why do I just obey him blindly, why don’t I fight?

He makes me walk in front of him as if I would stab him in the back or trip him if given the chance. I feel him behind me, his frame is so large towering over me, crushing any illusion I had of power. I have no power where Callum is concerned. 

The buildings pass by too fast to see them as we drive to his hotel and a profound sense of dread builds in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I am driving to my own funeral right now. I have used the last three days to think about what it is that I want. The reality is I want normal and that is never going to happen.

I TOOK THREE DAYS TO DEAL with my feelings for Shannon, the very wrong ones and the not so bad ones. I am undeniably attracted to her, but it is the danger she poses that draws me closer still. I spent the time fitting her into my plans, writing new ones with her in them and tonight I will tell her about them. All of them including the one where she walks away from me and back to my brother. I learned a little truth to that dynamic from Art over the time apart from her.
I don’t like it.
Three days that have felt like forever with the image of her messy hair and puffy eyes burned into my brain. The way, she yelled at me, made the desire for her even stronger, she is a fighter. She might just stand a chance against me and my madness, but regardless of what she wants and I plan to take her and make her mine. To do with as, I, please.

You cannot fix a killer, don’t even try, but I may just be able to change her into a different kind of killer. One that can kill for me and not just kill me. I have spent hours thinking about whether or not she might even be capable of feeling emotion, an attachment or even a need other than to kill. My thoughts left me with very little hope and another project to busy myself with while I wait to murder my family.

I cannot get the images of her in the shower out of my head, she crumbling under the pressure of me. Exactly what I wanted, but to what end? There is no denying it, her body responded to me, both my monster and the gentle lover. But her mind won’t accept both, her monster won’t dance with mine it will always be a fight. I like to fight.  I have had enough time to contemplate what I need and what she needs so that we can exist together.

How can she be so strong yet so weak? 

I am going to bring her here for dinner that will be prepared by the hotel. I want to see how she will react to everything I lay out for her. I have left her to think, to separate my presence from her feelings if she has any at all. Will she accept it and go along with me, or will she run?  I won’t chase her; if she runs I will kill her before I chase after her or let her go.

I fucking hate the surgery. The rancid antiseptic smell the dated furniture and rank decay of decades of remaining exactly the same. Mostly I hate that it reminds me of Cassie, I want to forget her so I can focus on Shannon and not the ghosts of my past. I need to focus on what is to come. On who I need to become.

Megan is ranting about how busy she is and that I cannot go back there. I ignore her whiny voice and move towards her office in the back. When I walk in the door of her consulting room, her head is down and she pretends to be working. She knows I am here, but won’t lift her eyes from her computer. I sit down in the chair opposite her, I hate being on this side of a desk, I belong on the boss’ side of the desk.

It only takes a few minutes for me to see the murderer in her eyes, she wants to kill me again. I can read her ticks without her even knowing it. The problem is, that pushes my buttons and I feel the madness burning just beneath my cool façade I am going to snap again. I don’t think I can be with her and not want to hurt her. She isn’t like the others before her where the madness comes before them, she brings the madness with her. She pulls the violent need right from me with a single glance. We are never going to be good for each other.

I am waiting for it. The fire in her eyes says she will push me to the limit of my self-control. When she says she won’t come to dinner, I cannot hold it in not even if I tried. I launch over the desk and grab her by her delicate throat and I squeeze the life out of her. She incenses me more by fighting it making me want to hurt her more. I eventually let go, but she has darkened my mood and woken the madness, tonight is going to be very long at this rate. I wanted to stay calm, I should be able to remain calm. What the fuck is wrong with me? She is making me worse.

Art said this was a stupid fucking idea, a bad, stupid idea. As we drive to the hotel the idea, becomes worse by the minute. Her hair is all messy and her face is clean of any makeup, her beauty is a part of the evil. It lures me in even when she is just her raw self.