All I know is my ex is going to be at the annual family get-together this weekend, and he’s the last person on the face of the earth I want to see. I’d tried to break it off with him numerous times over the last couple of years, but he always apologized for his behavior, always insisting he’d change. I’m a cliché, I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still a little afraid of him, and his violent outbursts. He’s never laid a hand on me, but his threatening nature, always putting me down, and rough handling me in the bedroom, broke me a little, or a lot. I shake my head and push down the memories.
Honestly, I’d skip the reunion altogether, if it weren’t for my parents. Dad’s health hasn’t been great and I don’t see them enough as it is. They’re both looking forward to seeing me and what they’d like most is to see me back with Brad. The man could win an Oscar for his performances when he’s not behind closed doors.
“It’s my mother,” I say, and keep walking.
He continues on with me, slowing his strides to match mine, and I look straight ahead, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel his eyes drilling into me. God, I wish I wasn’t such an easy read. We might not have seen each other for a while, but Callan was always nice to me, always protective of those in our group.
“You don’t like your mother?” he asks.
That pulls a laugh from my throat, and eases some of the tension in my shoulders. “No, of course I do.” I take my last bite of ice cream and wipe my mouth. “It’s just, ugh, it’s the annual Davis weekend.”
“You lost me there.”
“Once a year, we have a big gathering at my parents place. They moved to the Cape after I graduated high school.” We make our way back to his car, and I continue with, “I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. Mostly.”
“Who is it you don’t want to see?” he asks, straight up. Leave it to Callan to get to the bottom of matters.
My body bumps his as we walk, and I move back quickly. Men like Callan, big, strong, powerful. Those are the kind of guys I go out of my way to avoid. Callan, however, he’s not like my ex. He’s always been sweet, and I probably shouldn’t be thinking about him naked. Clearly, it’s been too long since I’ve been touched by a nice guy, a guy who would never threaten to hurt me after a bad day at work—or even a good day.
“My ex is going to be there,” I say and scrunch up my nose. “Awkward, and all,” I add to cover the truth.
“Ah,” he says. “I take it the breakup wasn’t mutual then.”
“I broke it off with him, and no, not mutual.” My heart pounds a little faster. “He’s still messaging me, and he wants to get back together,” I say, wondering why I’m telling him any of this. I don’t talk about my ex, don’t even want to think about him. I guess with the weekend reunion tomorrow, it’s hard not to think about him. Not only am I thinking about him, the jerk is also invading my dreams. Every night for this past week, I’ve been waking up in a cold sweat. His folks are old friends of my parents. They were all so happy when we got together. None of them can understand the breakup, and I’m not about to drag my parents into my problems. I just wanted a clean break and to put it all behind me
“Is he harassing you?” he finally asks, pulling my thoughts back. I swallow as we reach the car and Kaitlyn jumps into the back seat, buckling herself into her booster seat.
“Let’s just say he doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”
His steps slow and the muscles along his jaw clench. “Is he hurting you, Gemma?”
“No, no,” I say quickly. “I just wish he’d get it in his head that we’re not getting back together.”
Callan pauses, his gaze moving over my face. “Ever think of a restraining order?”
A humorless laugh catches in my throat. “He’s a cop, Callan. It complicates things.” I can’t even imagine how much he, or his fellow officers, would harass me if I went to the courts. I’ve been around his buddies enough to know they stick together no matter what. At the end of the day, I’m physically fine, but it’s the mental abuse, his possessiveness that frightens me. Avoiding him has been my best course of action, and that’s worked so far. With the weekend coming, he’s been reaching out to me again. Changing my number and making it private hasn’t stopped him. Which just goes to show me how much power he has.
“It shouldn’t complicate things,” Callan says softly.
“You’re right, it shouldn’t.” I open my door and slide in. Callan stands there for a moment, his brow furrowed as he scrubs his chin. My insides tighten. I’ve already said too much, and to Callan at that. He has enough problems of his own. He doesn’t need to be taking on mine, or worrying about me. “It’s okay, Callan. Everything is okay. I’m sure the weekend will be fine.”
He nods, but doesn’t look convinced as he circles the car and jumps in. He turns the engine over and backs up.
“Daddy, can we have pizza for dinner?”
He glances at Kaitlyn in the rearview mirror. “Sounds like a good idea,” he says, the muscles in his shoulders tight, like he’s still trying to work through what I shouldn’t have just told him.
“Can Miss Davis have pizza with us?”
“Oh, honey, that’s okay—” I begin but Callan cuts me off.
“I do make a mean pizza,” Callan says. “Three-time champion at the station.” He blows on his knuckles and shines them on his shirt. I grin, happy to see the playful Callan back.
“Wait,
