He hoped like hell the address Tara had dug up was real and that Axel worked quickly. Thorpe needed to eliminate the man, then find the strength to take a step back from Callie so her life could resume its status quo.
Sean caught sight of him in the foyer, standing beside Sweet Pea’s empty desk. He’d sent his little receptionist on a meaningless errand because didn’t want her anywhere near potential danger.
The Scot glared. “Where is Callie? You said she’d be here.”
“In her room, waiting for you. But you and I are going to get a few rules straight first.”
“More bloody rules? I’m done playing by yours, Thorpe. You’re determined to believe the worst of my intentions because you’ve got your dick in a twist with jealousy, and she shed a few tears last night. If you truly care about the girl, you’ll back away and let me make her happy. She looks up to you. For her sake, you and I need to stop this arguing.”
The whole speech set Thorpe’s teeth on edge, but the name of tonight’s game was to lie low, not do anything to rouse the bastard’s suspicion. So he just smiled.
“I’d rather not fight with you, either. It distresses Callie, but I won’t be less than honest. I don’t like you. However, if you fulfill her and have her best interest at heart, I’m willing to try accepting you. Therefore, I’m allowing you to have time alone with her in her room. I won’t interrupt.”
“Behind closed doors?”
Thorpe dug his fingers into his thighs so he didn’t throttle Sean and nodded. “Don’t make me regret my show of trust.”
“Thank you. I came tonight intending to suggest a truce in Callie’s honor, so I’m glad you agree. She’s a stunning, bighearted lass. If you’ll let her make her own choices and keep your distance, I’ll give her all she needs. You’ve got my word on that.” Sean held out his hand.
“I look forward to seeing her smile again.” Thorpe was loath to shake Sean’s hand, but he had no choice.
If not for the information Tara had dug up on Kirkpatrick, Thorpe was sorely aware that he might really have been willing to take the lying asswipe at face value and try to behave civilly—at least when Callie was around.
But now, that option was off the table.
An awkward silence fell between them. Thorpe ignored it, turning his back on the man and drawing him down the private hall. With a series of card keys and pass codes, he finally reached the residential section of the club and headed to the end of the hall.
He gestured to Callie’s door. “She’s waiting for you.”
And Sean was in for a treat. Callie wore a bloodred dress that showed a healthy hint of cle**age, accentuated her small waist and petite stature, while revealing a lot of thigh. Matching lipstick and dark curls offset her fair face. When he’d seen her ten minutes ago, all Thorpe had wanted to do was strap her to his bed until she screamed out in pleasure for him—until he’d realized she was wearing that ass**le’s collar again. When he’d questioned her about it, she’d been vague. Had she changed her mind about leaving?
Kirkpatrick knocked on her door. “Lovely?”
The second Callie pulled it open, Thorpe’s stare tangled in hers. He saw something in her eyes that set him on edge. Sadness? Before Thorpe could decipher her expression, she peeked over at the other man.
“Hi, Sean,” Callie murmured, lowering her gaze in a sweetly submissive gesture that made his c**k stand tall. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would.” The Scot stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
Thorpe heard it lock. He wanted to rip the f**ker’s guts out.
Instead, he leaned against the wall in the hallway and dragged in a breath, trying to calm his rage. Hopefully, in two hours or less, this shit would be over and this imposter would be gone for good. Then he could figure out what was troubling the girl and fix it.
The only reason he’d let Sean in Callie’s room was the knowledge that he could unlock her door himself in seconds. If needed, Axel’s musclemen could bust it down in two minutes flat. Her windows had bars on the outside to keep creeps out . . . or in. Zeb and Lance were stationed at either end of the hall, listening and watching, just in case. The whole plan was a giant calculated risk. Yes, he was assuming that Sean wouldn’t hurt Callie, since the prick had already had months if that’s what he wanted. Why would he do it now, when he was cornered with no escape route? Nor could he sneak her out with him past all these watchful eyes. She’d be safe; he had to believe that.
Before Thorpe gave in to the urge to punch the wall, he whirled on his heel and marched down the hall, texting Axel. Work fast.
As Thorpe passed Lance, he pocketed his phone and frowned. “Watch over the girl for me.”
Lance shot him a shrewd glance. “I’ll watch over your girl. Admit that’s what she is.”
He rubbed at his forehead where a bitch of a headache was forming. “Let’s focus on keeping her safe tonight and getting rid of the Scottish stallion. If we manage that, I’ll think about it.”
When hell froze over.
“If you won’t make Callie yours, why not let her be happy with someone who adores her?” Lance challenged. “You might not like Sean Kirkpatrick, but he’s in love with that little vixen.”
“You don’t understand.” Thorpe chafed, but the less he told the others about Callie and her secrets, the better.