Callie
The second we walked through the door, the silence inside was more striking than the cold air we’d left behind.
Grayson locked the door behind us. His jaw was tight, eyes still storm-dark from the festival and what happened at the booth. He hadn’t said a word in the car. I hadn’t either.
My heart was still racing—but not from what he’d done to me against that wooden stand.
From Jude.
From the look he gave us.
From the bruises Grayson marked across my skin.
I stepped into the living room, my legs still trembling, my chest aching with the weight of everything we hadn’t said.
“Callie.” He called
I froze.
He walked past me, straight to the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter like he needed something to hold him steady.
I took a breath. “We need to talk.”
He laughed dr
