Craving Redemption (40 page)

My head snapped up when I heard her giggle, and when I met her eyes, something just clicked. We were parents.
Holy shit.

“I’m not writing that in his baby book,” she told me with a smile. “The first time your dad held you, he said, ‘Holy Fuck’. It was a tender moment…”

I huffed out a laugh and felt my throat start to close up.

I reached my hand back to hers and she caught it instantly, watching Will and me with a soft look on her face. “He looks like you,” she murmured.

“Naw, he’s all you. Look at that hair!”

“I know, right? I couldn’t believe he was born with it like that. Gram says it’s pretty normal and it might even fall out.”

“What color are his eyes?” I asked softly, looking down at his little face, his mouth smacking like he was trying to eat or something.

“They started out this dark grey color, and I thought for sure they were gonna turn blue, but he got your brown ones. They’re getting more like yours every day.”

“I can’t believe we made him,” I whispered softly to myself, but knew she heard me when her hand squeezed mine.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“He’s fuckin’ beautiful,” I told her seriously, lifting my face so I could focus on her again.

I was holding my son in my arms and holding hands with my woman, and it was the best thing I’d felt in months.

“I can’t wait until you’re home.”

“Me either, Sugar.”

We lapsed into silence again, but it was comfortable this time. I was soaking that shit in. I could smell her lotion from across the table, and I prayed that I’d be able to smell it on my clothes after she’d gone. She’d just arrived and I was already dreading her leaving so much that I was having trouble breathing.

I wanted to walk out that fucking door with her. I wanted to carry my son to the car, buckle him in, and then kiss the hell out of his mother. I wanted to hold her hand as I drove her home, watch her feed Will, give him a bath, and change his shitty fucking diapers. I wanted it all and it hurt so goddamn bad that I couldn’t have it.

“I signed up for cosmetology school,” she told me abruptly, biting the inside of her cheek. “Farrah and I are going to go together.”

“Is that doing makeup and shit?”

“No, it’s mostly cutting and coloring hair—stuff like that.” She was looking nervous and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.

“That’s great, Callie. Are you excited?”

I watched her shoulders deflate in relief. “Yeah, I am. I’m excited to learn a bunch of new stuff and be able to get a good job.”

“Then what’s wrong? Why’re you strung tight as shit?”

“I just wasn’t sure what you’d think,” she mumbled, looking down at the table.

“Hey, look at me,” I whispered softly as one of the guards called a motherfucking ten minute warning. “I’m so happy for you, baby. You’re gonna do so good.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure. It’s gonna feel good when you can get a sweet job, not have to work at a fuckin’ fast food place forever, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m stoked that I’ll be able to support us.”

I jolted in my seat at her words and instantly felt uncomfortable. “Why do you need to support yourselves? I’ll always take care of you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she backpedalled, making my anxiety ratchet up a bit. “I just don’t want to have to depend on you for everything. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“Don’t hear me complaining, Callie,” I rumbled, completely frustrated at the turn of the conversation. I looked away, trying to get my shit locked down, when she squeezed my hand.

“I love you and I know you’ll always take care of us. I just want to be able to do my part, okay?”

“Yeah, Sugar. Okay.” I could understand that; she’d been vulnerable for a really long time. I hated the thought of her moving on without me, but I wasn’t going to fuck up our visit by being an asshole. I started feeling comfortable again just as the guard called for visits to be over, and I felt myself growing panicked.

“Can I hug you again?” she whispered as she stood up across from me.

“Fuck yes,” I grumbled, following her up and pulling her close. “I love you both so fuckin’ much.”

“We love you, too,” she whispered as she started to cry. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s only for now, okay?” I whispered back fiercely. “Thank you for bringing Will.”

I handed her our son and wrapped my arms around both of them.

That was where I was supposed to be. I was supposed to be holding my family, taking care of them. I wasn’t supposed to be visiting them with people watching our every fucking move, analyzing the way I fucking held her hand or carried my boy.

She tilted her head up to me in invitation, and I fucking took it. I pushed my tongue between her pursed lips for just a second, tasting her, and then pulled away before the guards could fuck with us.

“I’ll call you in a couple days. Send me some pictures of you and Will, yeah?”

“Okay.” She was crying hard then, sniffling, her makeup running down her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. You better go,” I told her, lifting my chin toward the entrance.

When she turned around to walk away from me, I almost dropped to my knees.

My chest was on fire.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t done yet.

I needed more fucking time.

I was missing goddamn everything.

I wasn’t fucking ready.

I just needed a little more time.

Just a few more goddamn minutes.

Holy fuck.

It couldn’t be over already.

Chapter 68

Callie

That first visit with Asa was the hardest. I cried the entire way back to the hotel with Gram holding my hand. She didn’t speak; she just wrapped my hand in hers the minute I sat down, and drove.

I didn’t remember much of the next few hours, but eventually I got my shit together, and we left for Sacramento the next morning.

After that, both arriving at the prison and leaving again got—if not easier—at least bearable. I knew each time that Will and I would be back, and it gave me something to look forward to. Sometimes we’d bring Gram or Cody during school breaks, but mostly, it was just me and Will. We needed that time, just our little family.

Farrah and I started school and she was freaking fantastic at everything. While I had to study and practice until I thought my brain was going to ooze out my ears, she just seemed to pick up everything the first time, without even trying. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t be too pissed about it—she loved it. She’d obviously found something that made her happy, and after all she’d been through, she deserved it.

Gram took care of Will, even though it left her exhausted by the end of the day. She never complained, but I was always relieved when Cody was home from school and could help her out. She refused to let me look into getting a different babysitter, but sometimes I felt guilty for leaving him with her all day. Leaving him at all was so much harder than I’d imagined, but the look of pride on Gram’s face when we’d arrive home from school was like an affirmation that I was doing the right thing.

Will grew like a weed. His hair took forever to grow in, but he never lost the little Mohawk he was born with, and I freaking loved it. He was my little rocker baby, and some of my favorite memories are of Farrah and me dancing him around the house while he giggled hysterically, his little mouth pouring drool all over the front of our t-shirts.

He was a ham, grinning in almost every photo we took, and he looked like Asa more each day. His little body was sturdy, usually measuring in the ninety-fifth percentile at his appointments, and it was a chore just keeping the poor boy in clothes that fit. I loved it. Every minute of every day, I was thankful for the little person that got into my makeup bag and poured out all of my loose powder, then stayed up until all hours of the night when I had tests the next day. When I looked into his face I saw a perfect mixture of his father and me, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

We recorded every milestone, no matter how small, with video and photographs and I sent the photos to Asa weekly, keeping him updated on what our son was up to. I knew that he hated missing so many things, so I tried to keep him as involved as possible. It wasn’t easy.

Sometimes, I just wanted to enjoy the moment, without feeling panicked when I couldn’t find the camera. But I never stopped the video diary. If
I
was feeling frustrated, I knew Asa was feeling a thousand times worse.

My resentment over our circumstances grew with every passing day, burning and churning inside me until I felt ready to erupt. It was the club’s fault that our son barely knew his father. It was
their
fault that I was sleeping alone every night and that Asa was stuck behind bars in a prison full of murderers and rapists and God knew what else. My loathing for the Aces fed me, it kept me focused and calm when I felt the opposite, and it reinforced the wall between me and anything that I knew would be too much for me to handle.

It kept me safe from my memories by giving me something else to focus on while Asa was gone.

We were only able to visit Asa around my school schedule, which sometimes left us without face to face contact for months. Those were the hardest times. I lived for the moments that I could see him smiling at Will—watching as Will sat up for the first time on the little visitor’s table, or seeing him stumble into the room for the first time on his own two feet. In those moments, we were like any other family in the world.

Will’s first birthday passed with little fanfare—Gram’s homemade pineapple upside-down cake, and a trip to the prison for a visit. That seemed to be our life in a nutshell.

Six months later, Farrah and I graduated from cosmetology school and found jobs in a little salon at the mall. The pay wasn’t great, but they let us make our own hours and we were always able to work together, which helped when my car died for good and we had to carpool until I could get a new one.

We were riding in my new car, a cheap used Toyota that was easy to finance, when Will said his first word. He’d been mumbling and saying Mama and Dada, Fawa and Gram for months, but it was the first word that wasn’t a name. He pointed out the window at the semi driving next to us on the freeway and said “truck” as if he’d always known how to say it.

I cried the entire way home, while I clapped and cheered him on, because I hadn’t brought my camera with us to the grocery store and Asa had missed it.

Some days I didn’t know how I would keep going without Asa, and others felt as if he’d never been there to begin with. I’d begin to feel as if I’d always lived without him, and it would scare me so much that I’d slide back into missing him to the point of madness. It was a cycle that repeated itself over and over again until I felt exhausted from it, but one thing was certain: there wasn’t a minute that I didn’t wish he were beside me.

Life passed slowly in some moments, and quickly in others, leaving a bittersweet sensation behind. As hard as I wished for time to pass quickly, I also begged it to slow down. I missed Asa, but Will was growing so fast that I could barely stand it.

And then, after twenty-five months of waiting, he was out.

Chapter 69

Grease

The air smelled fucking sweet on the outside.

The boys had brought my bike to the prison so I could drive it home, and I looked like an asshole in my fucking dress shirt, but I didn’t care. I was so glad to be going home to Callie that I would have ridden in a clown suit.

I had to stop by the club on my way out of town to get a couple changes of clothes and check in with Slider, but I was planning on hitting the road the moment I got my shit together. I couldn’t wait to see Callie, and my dick had been hard since the moment I sat down on my bike and knew for sure that I was out of there.

I promised Callie that I would head straight to her once I’d grabbed my shit—she’d been practically bursting with excitement for the last month as we waited for my release. I wondered if she’d have Will with her when I got there, or if she’d have Gram keep him so we could have a little time for ourselves first. I didn’t care either way—I couldn’t wait to see my son—but I was dying to be inside my woman again, too.

I’d worked it out so I could drive back and forth to Sacramento as long as I let someone know I was going, but I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to be making that drive for much longer. I was beyond ready to be living with Callie and Will full time, and I wasn’t going to deal with her putting that shit off. I’d waited four years for the chance to live with my woman and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.

When I pulled up to the club, the place was fucking packed. When I parked and climbed off my bike, I turned to Dragon to see what the fuck was going on, but before I could say a word a wall of noise came thundering out of the front doors. Boys were yelling and cheering, and even a few old ladies were fucking screaming and clapping their damn hands. It was embarrassing as all hell.

“Welcome home, boyo,” Poet told me merrily, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“What’s all this?” I asked with a smile, I couldn’t help it. He was swaying from side to side, taking me along with him, and I’d rarely seen him so plastered.

“It’s a welcome home party, obviously,” Vera called as she and Slider came to meet us. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Good to be back. Is Callie here?” I looked around the crowd, but couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Couldn’t get a hold of her,” Slider grumbled.

“What? I thought you were keeping an eye on her?”

“We have been. Kept boys on her since you been gone, but she doesn’t talk to any of them. Won’t answer calls, won’t answer the door—we did what we could.”

“Why the fuck didn’t someone tell me?” I snarled. “I’ve seen you once a month for two years!”

Vera’s face was sympathetic, but Slider and Poet were expressionless.

“Did what we had to, Asa,” Slider rumbled, his use of my real name startling me. “You didn’t need to worry about that shit. Knew she was coming to see you still—didn’t want to cause problems between the two of you when there wasn’t shit you could do about it. Didn’t want to take the chance that you’d stop getting those visits.”