CALLEN (Second Chance Novels Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

laughs at himself. "Push-ups, sit-ups, miles of jogging, right out in the open air. I stayed south during the winters. Never bought myself a coat."
    "I thought I was the only idiot who lived like that."
    "Great minds," he smiles. "So what brought you here?"
    I tell him everything from Ledger and Cam's story up to the day I met Evelyn.  
    "Best week of my life," I admit sadly. "Thanks for staying scarce on the boat."
    He nods his "you're welcome."  
    I take a deep breath and drain the contents of another bottle. I look him in the eye and tell him the crux of our situation. "It's my fault she's dead."
    Riggs raises his eyebrows as I continue the entire story. I confess to my plans for revenge. The weight of my grief now rests on my brother's chest, too.
    "I'm in," he states darkly. "Need me at the jail or background tactical?"
    I clench my jaw and my fists, which stops him flat. He may be an obnoxious jokester, but he carries a depth of understanding few could equal.  
    "Got it," he says in clear acceptance, all hints of his earlier humor gone. "But if you need a single damn thing, I provide."

    As I drive home the following day from the jail and another meeting with Quinn, I'm hit again with how much I miss Evelyn. Being at Stoneridge in close proximity of her husband boils the hatred, and acutely reminds me of the woman I mourn. I miss the body I never touched in intimacy. I miss the golden flow of her hair when she allowed the tresses from the tight twist her husband dictated. I miss the soft expression on her beautiful face when she looked straight into me.  
    In spite of my undying loyalty to her memory and respect for our shared celibacy, I've dealt with my grief by over-compensating in the opposite direction. In recent weeks I fell into old habits as a form of comfort. Random, detached sex allows for escape, and represents my only reprieve from being at the jail and stewing over my mission points near the bed where Evvie slept. My face darkens at the thought of Evelyn's peace. She won't rest yet.
    Tonight, again, I go looking for a willing woman for a form of masturbation more pleasurable than my hand. I use these women for a warm body, making no promises but a singular hot night. I deliver every time, fucking women the way I never would have fucked Evvie. She would have experienced nothing but love from me until her body asked for more.
    As I drive to a bar, however, my thoughts of Evvie hit me too hard. As sick as my line of thinking may be, I dive head-first into the shallow end of my grief. A blonde beauty with a similar grace to Evelyn may somehow allow me to connect with a woman I never had. I imagine myself moving with Evvie's body, and I feel the need to experience a moment such as that. A stand-in will be a weak shadow of the true experience, but will be all I'll ever have.  
    When I find a woman to fulfill that fantasy, I'll admit to her the truth. I'll play on her sympathies, I'll charm her delirious, and I'll enjoy her efforts to assuage my need for another woman. Sick may not be a strong enough word, but at least I'll be honest. The need for such company pulls at my grief. Within a half-hour, I con my way into an exclusive club I'm not a member of. I don't pay attention to where I am, only to whom I'm looking for.  
    Sitting alone on a pedestal too posh to be considered a bar-stool is a scattered trio of high-class women, one of which is a slender blonde. From the seductive, graceful angle of her seated posture, she is elegant enough to fulfill my fantasy, though pales in comparison to the woman I love. I'm certain no woman could achieve the kind of sweetness and internal strength Evvie combined with the deep, true beauty I saw in every part of her.  
    I nearly shake my head at myself as I approach the slender woman I'll use tonight. I compartmentalize my opinion of myself as I sit next to my Evvie-stand-in and order some pretentious drink. I don't allow myself to smile, which is simple on a night such