Craving Redemption (25 page)

Farrah’s mom had a falling out with her man, and apparently had gone off the rails. She was partying like it was the end of the world, and Farrah had to deal with junkies and drunken assholes pounding on her locked bedroom door at all hours of the night. There must have been a breaking point—something must have happened—because soon after, Farrah was hot and heavy with Echo and staying with him more than she was home. I tried to talk to her about it, but she was shut up tighter than a bank vault. She’d just roll her eyes and tell me she couldn’t deal with the drama, changing the subject before I learned anything worth knowing. I was a shit friend, because when she changed the subject? I let her.

Because I wasn’t willing to upset the life raft I was on by taking on her problems.

I was an asshole.

That time, when Asa left, I wasn’t as lost. I’d made a pretty steady life for myself in Sacramento, and I was finally comfortable in my surroundings. I knew the neighborhood I was living in, I had a best friend that hung out at the apartment almost every day, I had a decent job that gave me a little bit of spending money, and I knew that Asa and I were solid.

I got good at paying bills and taking out the trash. I figured out which Laundromats always had wet clothes in their washing machines for hours on end and which ones were the cleanest. I figured out how to buy groceries on a budget without living on ramen noodles, and I cut coupons and filled a box in my bedroom closet with free toiletries that would take me years to use up.

I figured out how to take care of myself.

I finished out my junior year of high school, and instead of taking a break, decided to take a few classes that summer. I’d taken extra credits in San Diego, and it left me with a surplus that, with the help of a few summer classes, had me graduating a full year earlier than I was supposed to. Farrah was irritated that I wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer laying out by Echo’s apartment complex’s dilapidated pool, but I knew if I had too much time on my hands, my carefully constructed life would crumble. I couldn’t allow myself to slow down for fear that I would start thinking about things that were better left forgotten.

Once she realized that I couldn’t be swayed, we settled into a life not unlike the one we’d had during school. She was usually at my apartment by the time I got home, and hung out until I had to go to work. I ended up making her a key, and a lot of nights I’d get home to her sleeping on my couch. She rarely went home anymore—the only time she made herself go there was during Asa’s visits, which left me feeling both ecstatic that he was there and guilty that she wasn’t staying.

My life became a monotonous schedule, broken up only by my graduation from high school and Asa’s visits. I planned everything around them, eventually making every visit an event that I spent weeks planning for. I began waxing my legs, armpits and girly bits the week before I knew he was scheduled to come. I cleaned the house from top to bottom and filled the fridge in preparation for another person sharing my space.

We became more and more comfortable with each other, bickering about stupid things and feeling free to vent our frustrations. “The Fight”, as I remembered it in my mind, was slowly forgotten as we settled more into our relationship. I was no longer worried that he would forget me once he was in Oregon, and he no longer stressed about how I was handling life alone. We turned into a couple like any other long-distance couple, spending time every day to talk or text each other, and fucking like rabbits when we were in the same zip code.

Over time, my life became measured by how long it had been since I’d seen him. It was a sequence of, “two weeks until Asa comes” or “only two days since Asa left”.

My world revolved around him, even when he was hundreds of miles away.

If I still woke up occasionally from nightmares, I pretended like I didn’t. When Cody called and didn’t sound right, I bolstered him until he sounded normal, and when I hung up I pushed the conversations to the back of my mind. I didn’t think of my parents, or the worst twenty-four hours of my life. I didn’t wish for things I couldn’t have.

I refused to worry about how deep Farrah was falling in with Echo.

I refused to get upset when Gram visited and she had to go back to San Diego, leaving me alone once again.

And I
absolutely
refused to acknowledge that over the course of that year, Asa’s visits became further and further apart.

Chapter 40

Callie

My eighteenth birthday began like any other day of the year. I had a hard time making a big deal out of becoming an adult when I’d already been one for so long.

I’d been promoted to manager of the restaurant I worked at right after I’d graduated. I thought the owner was an idiot for making a seventeen-year-old a manager after a few months, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. The boob ogler had been caught grabbing the asses of other employees and was fired, and I think the owner just didn’t want to deal with hiring someone older. All of the employees were in high school, or drop outs, and I was the cream of the crop—as sad as that was.

So I spent my birthday at work, figuring out time sheets for the coming weeks. It was a freaking headache to do. This girl wanted certain days off to go to school functions, that one wanted to only work Tuesdays and Thursdays because she had church shit on the others. It went on and on until figuring out the schedule was like putting together a puzzle that never quite lined up.

By the time I arrived home, I had a headache from hell and I was sweaty from the drive since my car’s air conditioning was busted and Asa hadn’t visited in almost three months to fix it. I was irritated and tired and I just wanted to strip down to my underwear and pass out with a fan pointed at my bed.

I almost missed the motorcycle parked at the end of the parking lot.

Almost.

I ran up the stairs, cursing that while I’d had my monthly waxing session the week before, I hadn’t cleaned up the house or packed the fridge. My heart raced as I opened the door, and my jaw dropped when I saw the amount of people in the apartment… and the other shit.

There were streamers crossing the ceiling, posters on the walls, and balloons hooked to anything heavy enough to hold them from flying to the ceiling. It looked like a party store threw up.

Farrah.

I stopped in the doorway, and no one noticed me as I searched the crowd for Asa. Farrah was sitting on Echo’s lap on the couch, Michael was smiling down at some girl I’d never seen before, and a few of my co-workers were in the hallway making out. I was going to have to rework the entire schedule to make sure they weren’t on at the same time.
Dammit.

I found Asa standing in the kitchen, laughing with a pretty girl with blonde hair that hung down almost to her ass. She was pretty,
really
pretty, but the minute she put her hand on his chest she looked like a haggard bitch from hell to me. I saw red.

I slammed the door behind me, causing most of the occupants to turn in my direction, but I only cared about one person’s attention. His head swung in my direction, and he smiled huge until he saw the scowl on my face.

If I had been a cartoon, smoke would have come out of my ears as I swung my purse at Farrah. She caught it as if she’d anticipated the move, and watched with a smirk as I stalked across the living room and into the kitchen.

“You,” I pointed to the girl with Asa. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

She laughed uncomfortably and glanced up at Asa.

Oh. No. She. Didn’t.

“Bitch, you look at
me
,” I sneered at her, causing her head to whip back around. “He’s not gonna help you.”

“Calliope—” Asa’s voice was a warning I didn’t heed.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Apartment,” I told her through gritted teeth. “Unless you want me to rip that pretty hair out of your head when I beat the shit out of you.”

“I—”

“You—nothing,” I cut her off, pretending to stutter. “It’s
my
house and...” I pointed my finger to Asa, “
my
man. You put your hands on him, you deal with me. Now
go
.”

She looked between the two of us, trying to calculate her odds—but when I took another step toward her, she scurried toward the front door, dragging the girl by Michael with her. I watched her go and then pulled my arm from Asa when he tried to pull me to him.

His face was tight in anger when I glanced up at him, and I scowled until I heard Farrah clapping from the living room.

“Bravo!” she called, giggling. “I was hoping she’d stay so we could beat her ass. I got your back, sister!” She was drunk and swaying, and I couldn’t keep a smile off my face from her antics.
Fucking goofball.

The room was still quiet, watching Asa and me closely, so I raised my hands in the air and shook my hips from side to side.

“Nothing to see here, folks!” I called out with a derisive smile. “Drink up and be merry! Happy fucking Birthday to me!”

I walked back to my room with Asa less than a foot behind me. When I got there, he slammed the door behind us and I spun around in surprise.

“What? I thought that’s what we’re doing now,” he rumbled, slipping his cut off his shoulders as he stalked me across the room. “Slamming fuckin’ doors and having bitch fits when I haven’t seen you in three goddamn months.”

“She was all over you!” I sniped back as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“She wasn’t all over me. The chick came with Michael and you just fuckin’ cock-blocked him.”

I stood next to the bed, stuttering as he slipped off his boots and socks. He was even bigger than the last time I’d seen him, and apparently he’d had a few of his tattoos touched up, too, because the one on his back was even bigger and creeping up his neck. I soaked him in with my eyes, not coming out of my stupor until he was right in front of me and pulling my work polo over my head.

“What the hell?” I gasped. “We’ve got like fifteen people in the living room!”

“I don’t give a shit,” he replied, leaning down to take my mouth in a wet kiss as he unsnapped my bra. “They know what’s good for them, they’ll stay out there… even when they hear you screaming.”

He undressed me as I tried to squirm away, but I gave a halfhearted attempt at best. It had been too long since I’d felt him, and I couldn’t truthfully make myself care that we had an apartment full of people.

He tossed me on the bed and I scrambled up and off of it as he undid his belt and pants. I started for the door like I was going to leave, but didn’t make it far before he was lifting me by the waist and tossing me back—his jeans falling farther and farther down his hips as we struggled.

When he’d finally pinned me down, my hands were captured in one of his above my head, and I was in nothing but my underwear. Somehow he’d even stripped off my shoes and socks. His pants had completely fallen down at that point, and he kicked them off his legs without moving from his position above my body.

“You miss me, baby?” he rasped, running his nose along my collarbone and neck.

“I did, until I saw you in my kitchen with that skank,” I sniped back, pulling on my arms.

“Wasn’t doing anything with her and you know it,” he whispered, biting my lower lip gently. “Why would I want that, when I’ve got this?” he asked with a rock of his hips, the friction causing me to rock into him.

“Don’t let them touch you,” I whispered back. “I turn into a psycho.”

“Yeah, Sugar.” he told me with a chuckle, still rocking against me, “It’s hot as fuck, too.”

He pushed my hands into the mattress as he leaned down to kiss me, pushing his boxers off his hips as he bit and sucked at my lips. I used my toes to help him push them down, grabbing his lip in my teeth as I growled into his mouth.  I could still see him laughing with that girl.

He pinched one of my nipples hard, making me gasp, and as soon as I let go of his lip, his tongue plunged inside my mouth in a quick thrust. His hand had let go of mine, but before I could grab him, he flipped me over to my belly. He leaned back on his knees and jerked my hips up, ripping my underwear down my thighs until they were stretched tight between my knees.

I didn’t get a word out before he slapped my ass hard, making me screech in response.

“Shut it,” he hissed at me, slapping my ass again. “You want your little friend running in here?”

He waited for a response, pausing to put a condom on before rubbing my ass firmly, causing me to gasp into the comforter.

“No,” I moaned, and he slapped his hand down again.

“I get here, and first thing you do is cause a scene.”
Slap.
“You start bitching and treating me like shit for no reason.”
Slap. Slap.

He leaned down over my body, which made my ass throb in response, and whispered in my ear.

“I love you. Don’t want
anyone
but you,” he rasped as he slid easily inside me.

I whimpered as he rocked back and pushed my body toward his. He’d never told me he loved me before, so I hadn’t said it, either. All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed by all of the emotions running thorough me. Love, anger, annoyance, surprise, and lust flooded my brain like a tidal wave and I felt tears rolling down my face as he ground his hips into my sore ass.

“You gotta stop pushing at me baby,” he whispered, kissing at my neck. “I love you. It’s hot as fuck, but I wanna come home to you and not fight about the goddamn house or your piece of shit car.”

I tried to focus on his words, but he ran his tongue down my back, making me shiver and lose my train of thought. He felt so good against me—surrounding me—that the throb of my ass was barely noticeable as I pressed my hips harder against him, my nails digging into the comforter beneath us.

“You have to tell me what’s really going on, Calliope,” he told me, resignation in his voice.

              “No!” I gasped as he pulled out of me completely, but went quiet as he gently turned me over to my back. He rubbed away the tears on my face with his thumbs, and kissed me softly before pushing back inside.