37 | Caught

CALLUM

The interrogation room was cold, or maybe that was only me. Hot blood pumped through my veins but my heart was frozen over. Paige was dead. She had been murdered—no, that wasn't the right word for what happened to her. She was slaughtered. The scent of her death still clung to me. The taste of hot iron sat on the back of tongue, making my empty stomach clench tight.

"Here." Jason pushed a small paper cup of water across the chilled steel table toward me. His face was fixed into a familiar tired grimace.

The silver cuffs bit into the skin of my wrists as I shifted in the hard chair. "I'm good."

The Sheriff let out a sigh before meeting my gaze. We had known each other my whole life. Jason got promoted to Sheriff while my father was still alive. It was clear to me now that the weight of keeping our town's secret had aged him a lot in the years since.

"This sure does bring back memories," he said in a dull voice. I wasn't here for a walk down memory lane, we both knew that. Still, it was impossible not to stir up the dregs of my past. "You were a troublemaker then too. Guess time passes but nothing much changes. We just get old."

"Speak for yourself." The Sheriff snorted at my mumbled remark.

Silence settled between the two of us again. There was an uneasy feeling churning in my stomach, it made my skin itch. Since the moment I had returned to Twin Peaks almost everything had gone as I had designed. The future had never been much of a concern because I knew the end before I started playing this game. Roxie was going to be the Alpha of Twin Peaks. When I held her in arms for the first time, I knew she was my sister's gift for a brighter, better future. So, killing my father, giving the Alpha title to Bradford, having Tamara raise Roxie, leaving Twin Peaks—all of those were strategic moves towards that end.

Death was something I had expected. I was willing to sacrifice a few people if it meant achieving my ultimate goal. Though, I never intended for that sacrifice to be someone like Paige.

Sweet, caring Paige. Where did I go wrong? When was it, I wonder?

The image of Lucinda appeared in my mind.The way she had looked this morning in bed, it was something that made me question my own future. She was something that had made my resolve waver from the moment we had met. And now I'd had a small taste of salvation in her arms and I found myself greedy for it like the insatiable beast I was.

Lucinda was never meant to be apart of the equation. Her arrival in Twin Peaks had changed up the game in a dangerous way. If only I could have been stronger—If only I could have resisted the pull to her. I must truly be a cursed man.

A knock rattled the door to the room. The sheriff rose up from his seat with a heavy, defeated sigh. He met my questioning stare but said nothing as he turned away and went to the door. "Twenty minutes."

"Huh?"

He opened the door and Bradford stood there. I stood up quickly, almost knocking over my chair. They were both lucky that there was chain hooked to my cuff that kept me tethered to my spot. Clearly, this was intentional.

Jason looked over his shoulder at me. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. Try not to do anything too stupid."

I wanted to curse him out for leaving me alone with this rotten bastard, but I knew he was as much a slave to the hierarchy of things as we were. I scoffed at his words instead and turned my eyes away, looking at him only made me more frustrated. He left without anymore prompting, closing the two of in the room together.

"I only came here to chat," Bradford said with a relaxed demeanor as he motioned for me to sit back down in my chair. "Please. Sit."

I dropped down into my seat with a heavy thump. "I have nothing to say to you."

Bradford walked across the room and laid his coat over the back of the other chair. He was calm. Too calm. My gaze drifted to the two-way mirror behind him, then to the monitoring camera in the corner of the room. I watched as the tiny red light went out and didn't come back on. The itch that had been nagging at me only grew. I curled my fingers inwards, clenching my hands into tight fists beneath the table.

"You're a smart guy, Cal. We both know that." Bradford took a seat across from me, the motion lazy and unconcerned. "So, I'm hoping that we can come to some kind of understanding."

I spit at the table in front of him. "Go to hell!"

He appeared unfazed by my angry outburst. He sat quietly, a perfect image of serenity. My anger swelled until I was almost suffocating in it. I wanted nothing more than to grind him into dust—into nothing for all that he had done.

"That look on your face—" My back stiffened when the corners of his mouth turned slightly up. It was as if he was trying to smother his enjoyment. "I quite like it. Unfortunately, it's a little to bloodthirsty for my purposes at the moment."

"Bastard! What do you want?"

"I told you. I'd like for us to come to an understanding. This is me offering you an olive branch, just this once." Bradford spoke like the politician he was, trying to make his bullshit sound like a gift.

"After everything you've done—Don't fuck with me!" Something in me had snapped. All of my careful planning didn't prepare me for this. "Paige is dead and you think that I want to talk peace with the one who killed her?! You must really be out of your fucking mind."

His eyes darkened at my accusations but his posture remained calm. "You're letting your emotions get the better of you, Cal. You're failing to see the full picture."

I swallowed my urge to snarl at him. "Paige was innocent!"

"Don't be so self-righteous." Bradford's voice was sharp. "They were all innocent. Did you mourn them too?"

I gritted my teeth but had no response. There was nothing that to say. This was a game I had intended to play with Bradford. Deaths were to be expected. The people of this town had been as much his pawns as much as they were mine. Bradford's gaze shifted away from me to the ceiling. I noticed the way the muscle in his jaw ticked, the only sign of his real emotions.

"Paige's death is unfortunate, not something that even I expected." That was startling information, but I wouldn't let it show on my face. If Bradford hadn't intended to kill Paige than it was clear who his intended victim was. My hot blood turned to ice when his eyes slid back to mine. "Though we both know you're as guilty as me for Paige."

"What?"

Bradford leaned forward with a dark, penetrating stare. "Oh, don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you at all. I'm certain you've figured out who the real target was."

"You think it's my fault you killed Paige?" My disdain for him hung in the air between us. It was almost as heavy as the guilt that had begun to grow in my heart. Of course, It wasn't my fault Paige was dead. He was only trying to get to me and make me start doubting myself.

"If you knew who the real target was, then we can both agree you knew this outcome was a possibility. You made a decision, and now you don't want to bare any of the responsibility?" Bradford eased back in his seat with an empty laugh on his lips. "Not the quality of a good leader. I guess somethings never change."

My lungs squeezed tight, making it impossible to breathe in deep. He was right. Paige's death, whether it was intended or not, it was my fault. I had suspected that Lucinda was the next target in the murder spree that was plaguing Twin Peaks. When I took us away for our little trip, I knew someone would be taking her place. I had willingly sacrificed someone else to save her. If she knew that—No. It didn't matter. Lucinda was going to take Mary-Beth and they would get away from this cursed place. Everything would play out as it was supposed. This was all going to end exactly as I intended it to. I had to believe that.

"Why did you come back, Cal?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, wondering about the change of direction in our conversation.

Bradford held my gaze for a quiet moment. Maybe he was trying to read me for any clues to my real intentions. He was going to get nothing out of me. I had not sacrificed everything I had to lose in the eleventh hour. I watched him close his eyes, giving me a small shrug of his shoulders and a heavy sigh. The air of nonchalance he continued to maintain was starting to nag at me. Shouldn't he be more guarded in this moment?

"Guess not, just chalk it up to curiosity." His eyes opened slowly, but they were as cold as steel when they gazed upon me. "The end will be the same either way."

"On that we can agree," I said, my voice low in my throat.

"I think there is more for us to yet agree on. The reason I'm here at all." Bradford had always been a coward, but he was a cunning one.

"Finally, you're going to get to the point."

He gave me a toothy grin, that held all his menace. "You don't want to be the Alpha. You might have the strength of one. No one could deny that. But your will is far too weak to maintain control of an entire pack."

He wasn't saying anything that I didn't know myself. It wasn't anything that my father hadn't already hammered into me. And somehow, his words cut through to the memories that I did my best to suppress. The air seemed to have gathered some weight to it and hung off my skin like a wet blanket. My heart thumped harder against my ribs.

"Of course, no one blames you for that. Your father was a cruel man. He had a habit of breaking things." My sisters face started to materialize in my mind. The way I had found her. Paige's lifeless body rushed forward, ripping the breath from my lungs. The urge to throw up tickled the back of my throat and sweat rolled down the back of my neck. I was my father's son, after all. I broke things too.

He was getting in my head. Push it all way, Cal. Focus on the goal. I forced myself to breath in slowly through my nose, holding the air for a moment before releasing it. I squared my shoulders. "I don't want to talk about my father."

"Then how about those girls—what were their names again?"

My eyes narrowed. He was playing with me like a cat with a mouse. There was pleasure in watching me squirm in his grasp. The uneasy sensation that had been sitting beneath my skin from the moment I entered this room, made its home in the pit of my stomach. It was possible that there was something I hadn't accounted for. Perhaps it was the reason why Bradford continued to sit before me so calm and collected.

As I stared into his eyes, I saw it—the death of everything I cared about. I couldn't stop myself from baring my teeth at him in a dangerous, hopeless grin. "Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you. Stop wasting my time and get to the damn point."

"Fine," he said with feigned boredom. "You want to save those girls, don't you? Especially the older one. Lucinda."

Lucinda.

She sprang to life in my mind, her defiant eyes and tender hands. My body was moving before I could register the fact. Everything in my head was so muddled together now, that thinking clearly was impossible in the ocean of thoughts. The snap of a chain as it pulled taut was followed by the sharp biting pain of the silver cuffs as they cut into my raw skin. These were the things that cleared my mind and brought me back to my senses. Bradford was lucky that I was tethered to floor as I was. My arms were outstretched toward him, my clawed fingers inches from his throat.

He didn't try to move. Instead he grinned at me, obviously satisfied with himself. "There is that look again."

"Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!"

"You really should consider your position before making threats." Bradford rose from his chair, readjusting the collar of his shirt.

I snapped my teeth together in bitter frustration before dropping my arm and sitting back down in my chair. He was right. At this moment, I was exactly where he wanted me. I was a puppet dancing on a string. It pissed me off, made me want to swallow my tongue out of spite. Still, I knew all of this was possible. I had to trust in Lucinda and in the plan. Wasting time here with Bradford would only help them to get away without trouble.

"Fine. Let's talk," I said, meeting his victorious stare.

Bradford moved to the corner of the table, one hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks. He looked like the damned devil come to collect my soul. Hell, maybe he was. "You're going to rescind your claim to Alpha. In exchange I'll guarantee the safety of those girls you have been so desperate to protect."

"Even if I agreed to that—" The words tasted sour in my mouth. "There is no way the people of this town would let things good so easy now that you've planted evidence that I'm the killer."

"You don't need to worry about that."

I scoffed at his response, leaning forward. "Why? Because you're going to give up the half-breed instead?"

Bradford laughed at that, smiling wide. "Smart boy. So, you figured out that much at least."

Lucinda and I had discovered this truth on our trip. It was unexpected and I had yet to figure out a solution for that particular problem. Once Bradford was out of the picture that would be the most pressing issue. "How do you control it?"

He arched a brow at my question. "More interested in the how and not the who...interesting. "

"Call it a deadman's curiosity."

I watched with suspicion as Bradford walked towards me. He must be quite confident that I wouldn't attack him. Though, I had definitely given him that assurance at my response to mention of Lucinda.

"Accept my olive branch and I'll quell that curiosity." He held out his hand to me, waiting.

This was a waste of time, for both of us. He couldn't guarantee even if I shook his hand that I wouldn't go back on my word and the same went for me. So, he had some other purpose, something I didn't see. Whatever the reason, I could use this to suit my needs. I lifted my arms and took his hand awkwardly in mine.

Bradford moved quick, tightening his grip on my hand and pulling me toward him. The pain was sudden and piercing. It stole the breath from my lungs. He had stabbed me, the blade was four inches deep in my side. The hand he had concealed in his pocket...bastard. The silver cuffs were suppressing my wolf and any ability I had to heal.

"A bond of blood," he said into my ear before pulling away, leaving the knife behind. "I hope that satisfies a dead man's curiosity."

My vision began to blur. I was losing too much blood. Pain surged through me with every shuddering breath I took. If I removed the knife now I'd only bleed faster. Bradford gathered his coat and walked to the door.

"I enjoyed our chat," he said, giving me one final look before leaving the room.

I dropped my head back on my shoulders, a desperate chuckle escaping my lips. He had given me the answer to all my problems as he left me dying. A blood bond. It was a powerful thing but a double edged sword. If either one of them died, the other would follow shortly after.

"Crazy bastard..." My vision grew dark.