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Broken Bond 38
CALLUM“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me,” Troy mutters dryly as he forces his way past me into my apartment.My muscles lock up as his shoulder knocks into mine. “Yeah, well I knew you wouldn’t stop calling until I picked up,” I grumble.I glare after my stepfather as he strides right into the living room like he owns the damn place, and all the effort I put into calming myself prior to this interaction is immediately wasted at the sight of him in my space. My jaw ticks in agitation, fingers twitching at my sides. I’m not fond of anybody intruding on my space, Nessa being the only exception.That’s who I’m really doing this for. My girl is an idealist; she can’t abide not seeing wrongs righted, so if there’s one to uncover here, I’ll try, for her. I finally picked up one of Troy’s calls this morning and told him he could come over for a chat, though I still have doubts about Chase’s plan actually working. It’s clever, but he doesn’t know Troy like I do. It’d take a sledg
Broken Bond 39
VANESSA My fingertips ghost over the delicate lines of the drawing in my lap, in awe of the painstaking detail that went into every stroke of the pencil to create it. It’s a depiction of me- like every other sketch in this book- and in this one, my eyes are the main feature, crinkled at the edges, a giveaway that I’m smiling even though my fists are tucked in front of my mouth to hide it. My hair frames my face in loose waves, every strand etched with such precision that you can see the movement in the drawing like it’s captured a moment in time. Callum is so freaking talented, and something hot burns in my chest every time I look through these drawings, his love poured onto every page. It’s a heady feeling, being his muse. Being the subject of his art, the object of his affection. It’s immense and overwhelming. Nobody sees me like Callum Conway does. The sound of a key turning in the lock of his apartment door yanks me out of the trance I’m in, and I jerk my head up, looking toward
Broken Bond 40
CALLUMI don’t typically get nervous. Agitated and pissed off, sure. Annoyed, definitely. But nervous? It’s not a frequent state for me, at least it wasn’t until recently.Since I returned from the mission, it’s like I’ve lived in a constant state of apprehension. Coming clean about my past and trying to win Nessa back came with a heavy dose of nerves, as did confronting Troy, but after successfully navigating all of that, I thought I was finally in the clear. Troy was exiled last week. Nessa has remained by my side, and we’re closer than ever. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been more at peace that I have been this week, but now here I am again, a fumbling, uneasy bundle of nervous energy as I walk with Nessa up to the front door of her family’s house.“You’ve already won me over, but now you have to win my parents.”That’s what Nessa said when she invited me to this dinner, and my anxiety has been on overdrive since. I’ve never been great with parents, and the thought of coming f
Broken Bond 41
VANESSA My hands tremble as I wait for Callum to arrive at the cabin. It’s the same place I waited during each of the full moons when he was gone, blindly hoping he’d walk through that door and everything would be okay again. He never did, and it never was, but tonight’s different. Tonight, we planned to forgo the full moon run with our respective packs and meet here instead. Tonight, I know he’s actually coming, but even that knowledge does little to calm my frantic heart. We could’ve picked somewhere else to meet, but this felt right, almost poetic. This place is full of cruel memories, but they’re ours. We can’t pretend that part of our story never happened or gloss over the hard times. They all make up the patchwork of our messy, imperfect path of coming together, of finding our way back to one another. It hasn’t been easy, but can you ever fully appreciate the happy ending if you didn’t claw tooth and nail to get it? I wait in the dark, surrounded by the ghosts of our past, th
Broken Bond 42
CALLUM “Okay, Levi has really stepped up his jungle juice game,” Nessa comments, plucking a cherry from her red plastic cup and bringing it to her lips. She sinks her teeth into the fruit, tugging off the stem and smiling in satisfaction as she chews. If by ‘stepping it up’ she means adding actual fruit to the concoction as a garnish, then sure. Though Levi’s jungle juice recipe is still basically jet fuel disguised as fruit punch. Tastes great, but has a nasty kick that you don’t feel sneaking up on you until it’s too late. Still, the people here can’t seem to get enough of the stuff. I sling an arm over Nessa’s shoulders and lean back on the sofa, taking in the familiar scene at the packhouse tonight: a bar set up in one corner, large speakers in the other, and a sea of bodies crowded in between. The flow of liquor is seemingly endless and the pungent aroma of marijuana smoke lingers in the air. Girls are dancing throughout the room while guys vie for their attention, but I’ve onl
Broken Bond Epilogue
VANESSA***Four and a Half Years Later***My knee jumps nervously as I sit rigidly on the edge of the bed, my mind turning over anxious thoughts while I stare at the red glow of the numbers on the bedside clock. He should be home any minute now. It isn’t unusual for Callum to take short trips to Denver these days since he’s apprenticing with a tattoo artist there, but the wait for him to return this time has been particularly brutal. The past two days have felt like the longest of my life.Even before the bedroom door opens, I know he’s back. It’s just like in those early days when I could feel him before I saw him. Our souls are magnetized to one another’s, and through the bond they’ve become even more fused and interwoven. There was a time when I’d given up hope that I’d ever feel this with him again; when I woke up alone in the cabin after he left, when I felt the bond being torn from my skin under the next full moon. But then fate saw fit to give us a second chance. I’m still not
Broken Bond 1
CALLUMA lot of little boys idolize superheroes. I’ve always identified more with the villains.It’s not like I had designs on growing up to become some sort of evil mastermind, but some part of me has always recognized that desperate darkness that lurks beneath the surface of the villain in the story. The tortured soul behind the manic façade.Nobody roots for the villain, and nobody has ever rooted for me, either. My stepdad ensured that by painting me as the black sheep of the family from the moment I took my first breath. I was always the problem child, the nuisance he was forced to live with but never wanted. The product of an anonymous hookup that my mother regretted before I was even born, because she met the love of her life when she was six months pregnant with another man’s child. A man I’d never meet, because apparently, he didn’t want me either.Ain’t life a bitch?The villain in the story never comes out on top, but you’ve gotta admire their tenacity. The world’s against
Broken Bond 2
VANESSAI’ve never been a big drinker, but if all alcohol was masked by the taste of cherry Kool-Aid, I’d probably be a lush. I’m a big fan of cherry anything. Cherry lip gloss, cherry gum… even just straight-up maraschino cherries from the garnish tray at the bar where I work. I’m not sure what else is in this jungle juice, but it’s officially my new favorite drink.Vienna has vacated her spot beside me in favor of joining Levi on the other side of the couch, and a blonde guy slips in to steal her place, tapping my cup with his own. “Want a refill?”I turn to meet his hazel eyes, giving a little shake of my head. “Nah, I should probably pace myself,” I say, all too aware of how easily the first half of this drink has gone down. “I’m driving.”“Fair enough,” he replies easily, reclining back on the couch and stretching his arms, not so subtly propping one onto the top of the cushion behind me. It’d be a smooth move if he wasn’t so painfully obvious about it. “I’m Miles, by the way.”“
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