Lost & Bound (11 page)

Callum

“What are you doing, boy?”

He’s seen you. You’re screwed.

I turn at the waist. As I suspected he has that look on his face, the
look of anger and relentless rage. The look I have seen a thousand times
before. His face is flushed red, his jaw clenched, his eyes wild. “Answer me.”

He takes another step forward. I square my face with his. We’re the same
height now and I’m an inch or so wider.

“I was—I was changing out of my uniform,” I fumble with my words.

His glassy gaze gives my face the once over. “Why?”

  
“I’m heading to the
stands to watch the game with Eric.”

His face turns sour when I mention Eric’s name. He hates Eric.
Why would I mention Eric’s name? Was I
deliberately trying to bait him?

His eyes rake over my body, his jaw working overtime as he assesses what
I’m wearing.

“Get your uniform on and get back out there,” he seethes through clenched
teeth.

“But Dad…”

“But what?” he interrupts with his usual challenging tone.

I pull up the cuffs of my jeans, showing him my swollen and heavily
bandaged ankle. “The doctor said I couldn’t play. He told me to rest this
week.”

He shoves a finger into my chest causing me to stumble back against the
metal lockers of our school’s changing room. The room is empty and his voice
echoes as it roars from his lungs.

“I don’t give a damn what that quack says. You’re playing.”

The team is already warming up. I twisted my ankle during training
earlier in the week and upon assessment the doctor told me to get the ankle
strapped and sit the game out. That’s exactly what I planned to do.

“I’ve already spoken to your coach, he’s expecting you out there. Don’t
let your team down.”

“Dad...”

He turns his back, his black dress shoes squeaking against the floor as
he strides away.

His last words come out as an order. “You will be out on that field,
Callum. Make sure of it.”

I startle awake. Sweat drips from my temple
and I wipe it with the back of my hand. I look at my phone. It’s just after two
in the morning.

I shake the foggy feeling from my brain. I haven’t thought about that day
in years. I ended up with a fractured ankle and spent the next few months
hobbling around on crutches.

Why am I dreaming about this now? It was a day from my past that I tried
so hard to forget. I roll onto my side and let out a yawn.

It felt so real. His words, the disdain clear in his voice. I can still
feel his finger poking into my chest. It’s as if my father is here watching me,
taunting me, begging me to challenge him. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

Leila

“How are you?” His eyes light up as he
smiles.

We come face to face for the first time in
days and I’d almost forgotten how attractive Callum is. His light brown hair is
arranged messily on top of his head and his chin sports a few days worth of
stubble. And that smile, I love when he smiles so wide that his eyes sparkle.
Even in the dimly lit room I can see his icy blue eyes as they take me in.

“I’m great.” I smile.

I manage to tear my eyes away from his face
and for the first time I notice he’s cradling a brown paper bag in his arms.

“What have you got there?” I ask.

He moves to the sitting room placing the
bag on the coffee table and then sitting on the sofa.

“It’s a surprise for you.”

I stand with my hands crossed over my
chest. “A surprise?” I question.

He nods. He reaches into the bag and pulls
out two bottles of wine, one red and one white. He pulls two glasses from the
bag also and places them on the table.

He notices me studying the bottles. “You’ve
had wine before haven’t you?”

I have to think about it, when was the last
time I had a glass of wine? I cannot remember. “It’s been awhile,” I answer
honestly.

I make my way to the other side of the sofa
and sit on the edge.

“Red or white?” he asks.

The question throws me. I don’t remember
which I prefer.

Callum sees the uncertainty on my face.
“I’ll pour you a white.” He uncaps the bottle and pours even portions into
glasses. He hands me one and then clinks his glass against mine.

I take a sip and the liquid slides down
easily enough. It’s fruity, decadent and I feel my insides warm from just one
sip.

Callum still has the same boyish grin on
his face. “I have something else for you.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Another surprise. What
is it?”

I feel giddy with excitement, it’s been so
long since I received a gift and the smile on Callum’s face tells me I’m going
to like it.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just close them.”

It should make me nervous to close my eyes
and trust another human being, but with Callum I feel comfortable. I close my
eyes, I trust.

“Okay, hold out your hands.” I can hear the
smile in his voice when he speaks.

I do as I’m told and when I hold out my
hands he places two round objects against my palms. “Okay, open your eyes.”

I blink a few times until I can focus on
the two perfectly ripe passion fruits he placed in my hands.

“Callum.” I stop when I feel tears welling
in my eyes.

“Don’t cry.” He wraps his arm around my
shoulders, a friendly gesture. Nothing more.

I bring my hand to cover my mouth. “I’m
sorry,” I cry. “It’s just been so long since I received a gift.”

“Well you’re really going to love my next
surprise then.”

My interest is piqued. I watch in
anticipation as Callum reaches into the bag and brings out a smaller white bag.
He hands it to me with an adorable smile on his face. “Open it.”

I crinkle the paper as I peek inside. My
lips turn into a smile when I see its contents.

“You brought me cheesy balls,” I say, using
his term from days ago.

He nods his head once. “I did.”

I pop one straight into my mouth. It tastes
like heaven and I’m surprised that they’re still slightly warm as if they’ve
just been plucked from the oven.

I chew on the bread eagerly and Callum
smiles at me. “Good?”

“Just like home,” I say as I hand him a
ball to try.

He takes a generous bite and chews
enthusiastically. “Really good.”

“I told you.”

I take a large gulp of wine to wash down
the bread. “Thank you, Callum,” I say after I swallow.

I curl my legs underneath my body and dry
the tears away from my eyes with the back of my hand.

Callum’s eyes drift over my body, finally
landing on my ankles. “What’s that?” He focuses on the fresh rope burns from
last night.

“It’s nothing,” I say, attempting to cover
the skin with my hands.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he says as
he leans forward to get a closer look.

His eyes go wide and I watch the
realization cross his face. His father had hurt me one last time. The fresh
wounds a reminder of how absurd our situation really is.

I open my mouth, but the words come out as
a whisper. “He can’t hurt me anymore.”

I watch him fight with his emotions. He
clenches his jaw as his finger traces along the skin of my ankle. The marks are
subtle enough on my olive skin, but Callum noticed them instantly, just like
the day we first met.

“Leila.” I watch his face fight with
emotion and then he stands, walking the length of the room.

“Fuck,” he lets out, causing me to flinch.
“I will fucking kill him,” he seethes through clenched teeth.

I stand and walk over to where he is
pacing. He meets my eyes, his gentle blue depths taking me in as if they can
see my entire, tarnished soul.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” I repeat, this
time the weight of my words causing my voice to crack.

We stare at one another for a long, drawn
out moment. I lick my lips slowly and Callum’s eyes flash to my mouth, watching
my tongue linger on the corner of my lip. He wants me. He craves me as much as
I crave him.

I bring my hand between us and cup the side
of his face. My thumb brushes against his cheek tenderly as I look into his
eyes. I’m practically begging him to kiss me, my eyes trail to his lips,
the
lips I want to kiss.

He swallows roughly. It’s the only sound in
the room as I wait for him to speak.

“Leila, we can’t…”

They’re not the words I want to hear.

“Why?” I don’t let him finish. I need to
know why he can’t stand the thought of being with me, why he has to fight this
so damn much.

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes
closed, but doesn’t explain the fight that’s going on within.

I’m going to cry. I can feel the tears
threatening to fall at any moment. I can’t let Callum see me crying. Not over
this. Not over the loss of a relationship that never existed.

I move past him, walking toward my bed
without looking back. I hear him talk behind me, his words carrying through to
my ears even though I don’t want to hear them.

“Because you’re going to think of him.”

I turn around. The shock on my face
obvious, his words cutting deeper than he ever intended.

I take a few steps forward, closing the
distance between us.

“I’ve told you, you’re nothing like him.”
I’ve never meant anything more in my life.

“Leila, it isn’t that simple. When you’re
with me, you’ll think of him. There’s no way around it.”

I let out a sigh. “You know nothing about
me, Callum. You know nothing about what I feel.”

His eyes snap up to mine.

“I know nothing about you?” he questions.
“Then why does it feel like I know you better than anyone else?”

His words startle me, but they’re
not untrue
.

He studies my face. “What do you want me to
say, Leila?” he keeps his voice low.

I swallow roughly. “I want you to tell me
the truth for once. The whole truth of what you’re feeling here.” I press my
hand against his heart and I can feel it beating against my palm.

I wait for his words, the untold truth that
I’ve wanted to hear all along, but it doesn’t come. He remains mute, his gaze
set on my face.

I can’t handle being in a room with Callum
if he doesn’t feel the same way. It hurts too much. I brush
past
him, my shoulder grazing his arm.
Without warning, I feel his arm wrap around my middle, pulling me flush against
his body, his hands resting on my hips as he gazes down upon me. My heart is
pounding so fast that I can hear it rushing in my ears.

He dips his head pausing just before our
lips meet.

This is what I want, what I’ve wanted for
so long, but when I feel his lips on mine I am powerless. One gentle kiss that
seems like so much and so little at the same time.

He pulls away too soon. He keeps his arms
wrapped around my middle and I can feel his warm breath hitting my bare
shoulder. It’s the most erotic thing ever.

I watch his eyes rake over my face and then
settle on my lips as if he wants more. We both do.

I stand on my toes and our lips meet again.
I bring my hand up to his face and run my fingers along the soft skin of his
cheek before wrapping them around his neck and drawing him in closer.

His tongue peeks through his lips and
enters my mouth, slowly, sensually, moving against my own tongue as they dance
together to music neither of us can hear.

He uses his hands to guide me backwards,
one hand at the small of my back, while the other feels for the couch, laying
me down on a bed of cushions. I prop my leg up, letting his body fall perfectly
against my curves. I feel his hardness against my hip. Knowing I have this
effect on him excites me.

His lips travel down my neck, kissing his
way up my jaw and then behind my ear. I could climax just from him kissing me
there. His hips grind against my sex, rubbing me where I need him.

He brings his lips back to mine and stops
with a hairline distance between us. His eyes blink closed and I know
something’s about to happen. He’s either going to rip the clothes from my body
and have his way with me, or he’s going to stop. The way his thumb tenderly
rubs against the apple of my cheek tells me it’s the latter.

He reclines back, his head resting against
the back of the sofa. “We should stop.”

“Why?” I ask, hearing the desperation in my
own voice. I need this. I need him.

I can see it all over his face. He’s torn.
He focuses on my hands, his fingers lacing together with mine in such a way
that a man would with his girlfriend.

“This will just complicate things,” he
says. “This situation is already fucked up between you and I,” he signals
between us. “This cannot happen.”

I glance into his eyes and I know he
doesn’t mean the words. He says them because it’s what he should say, but not
for a moment do I believe them to be true.

“I don’t care what you say,” I whisper. “It
doesn’t stop the way I feel about you.”

He nods his head. “I know.”

“And the way you feel about me,” I add
brazenly.

He lets out a soft sigh, brushing his thumb
against my cheek causing my whole face to warm. “I know that too.” He smiles
slightly.

He wraps an arm around me and I rest my
head on his shoulder. I curl my legs underneath me, pulling a blanket to cover
our bodies.

“Close your eyes,” he says softly.

He places a soft, feather light kiss on my
forehead.

“Don’t leave me,” I murmur with my eyes
still closed.

“I’m right here.” He settles back, resting
his feet on the coffee table and letting out a soft yawn. It doesn’t take me
long to drift off to sleep. I rest so peacefully that night and for once I
don’t dream. In Callum’s company I feel safe. I feel content.

But when I wake up, Callum is gone.