She’d never wanted to be a part of this. To talk to men who worked for the mafia. How had she gotten to a point where she thought someone would shoot from a car at her? She’d gotten in so deep so fast.
Derek bent down, and helped Callie up. He had Adam’s jacket wrapped around his fist. The tears she’d held earlier began to fall. He yanked her into his chest with more force than before. His arms were tight around her, and he turned them so the brunt of the storm beat against his back. She burrowed her face in her personal human shield, let the leather of his coat warm and soften against her skin, and wept.
CHAPTER SIX
Callie hadn’t slept in almost four days. She should have collapsed from sheer exhaustion, but adrenaline continued to spike her synapses. Could someone overdose on the body’s natural highs? Could she be felled by cortisol levels? The priest at the church she’d attended during elementary school would have told her the Lord was testing her. Father Henry might have told her the same.
But this wasn’t a test. This was the universe fucking with her, and she was over it. Her one fresh lead had bolted into a noisy muscle car, leaving her with nothing but bruised knees and regret.
She sat on the edge of her bed. She’d thrown the jeans in the hamper, but the scrape of concrete over the knees might need more than a good scrub. Callie rubbed lotion over the bruises. It wouldn’t heal any faster, but it comforted her like it could. Derek sauntered into the room. He moved with that casual swagger he saved for home. No flexing muscles, no tight shoulders, no grimace.
“Take these,” he said, and handed her three brown pills and a glass of water.
Callie accepted them, but hesitated. “You’re not trying to make me sleep, are you? If Nate finally calls back, I need to be here, to be coherent.”
“You’re going to have to sleep eventually, doll, or being coherent won’t be an option. But, no, I’m never going to make you do shit. It’s Advil. You can see the name on the pills.”
Callie tossed the tablets into her mouth, and took a generous drink of water. She pretended she hadn’t peeked at the tab for the name first. “Thanks.”
The pleased rumble emanating from his chest has the silky warmth of aged bourbon. If only her body weren’t on high alert now, she’d drink him in and relax. Fortunately, they were on the same page there, because disappointing Derek was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I’ve got a contact who can run the plates for me.” He was already wearing his jacket again.
“You got the plates?” She’d been focused on the headlights and the tires and Adam leaving with information she needed.
He tapped his index finger against his temple. “Like a fucking camera.”
The urge to smile hit her, but even her face was too tired to comply. “Bet there are some great home movies in your head.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Lace is a predominant thread.”
Okay, even her wrung-out body couldn’t resist reacting to that one. “I love you.”
He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Love you, too, doll.”
Derek moved to leave, but stopped in the doorway. He turned back to face her. “I’ll be back soon. If you hear from Nate, you call me.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Calling from the car still counted, right?
“If you’re up for it, dig through the shit from Adam’s coat. Maybe we can still get decent intel out of him.”
Callie nodded. Adam may have slipped Derek’s grasp, but his coat hadn’t.
She gave herself a few moments alone. The pillows were calling her, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She’d tried two nights ago. The horror show behind her eyelids wasn’t going to abate until she set shit right, until she’d found Zara. It wasn’t even the gory gift Nate had left her that bubbled up first now. Now she could only relive her last conversation with Zara. The image of her mother’s face when Callie had slammed a beer bottle to her sternum and sucked out the rented soul. The betrayal. They were family. They were Delgados. They weren’t supposed to screw each other over like this. The guilt bubbled in her belly, and the fresh pills threatened to make an emergency exit.
She could make it right, though. That’s also what family did. It didn’t matter if Zara had been neglectful. It didn’t matter that she’d rented souls. It didn’t matter that she’d demanded too much from her daughter. None of that mattered. Zara was family, and Callie would save her.
Callie let out a long sigh. Her back hurt and her muscles ached. She was probably dehydrated. She drank the rest of the water Derek had brought her, and then headed to the living room.
Adam’s coat lay across her kitchen counter. Its drab olive losing its richness against the off-white Formica. She and Derek had already turned out the pockets. The contents rested next to the jacket: Adam’s phone, a cocktail napkin with a street address somewhere on the northern edge of Gem City, four packets of heroin, two bags of meth, a tiny bag with a bundle of molly, and a business card.
Callie had been about to flush the drugs, but Derek said they might be a bargaining chip to get information. She tugged the sleeve of her shirt down over her palm, and then pushed the packets to the side until they were almost beneath the jacket.
She picked up the business card. It’d been packed in a pocket next to the meth, but looking now, it was not drug related.
Fuck. The blunt swear blasted the base of her skull. The card was a problem. Her problem.
The glossy, black card read “Be Anonymous with a New Soul” in golden script. She flipped it over,
