The Redemption of Callie and Kayden (28 page)

chest. I don’t want to snap at her, but I’m panicking and my

feelings are controlling me. “Callie, I swear to God if you care

about me at all, you’ll turn around and walk back out into the

room.”

She takes another small step, reducing the already limited

space between us. “I do care about you and that’s why I’m not

going to leave.”

My head snaps up and rage bursts inside me, flames ripping

through my body. I’m about to ruin everything but I can’t stop it.

“Just get the hell out!”

“No.” Determination burns in her eyes. She doesn’t even look

like the Callie I know. She looks strong and confident. “I won’t let

you do it.”

I lean in toward her with the razor still pressed against my

skin and I notice her gaze flick to it. “If you know what’s good for

you, you’ll leave. You don’t get this… I don’t need you. Now leave.”

Her hand snaps out and she grabs ahold of my wrist, her tiny

fingers encircling it firmly. “I do get it. You want to stop whatever the hell it is you’re feeling and this is the only way you know how.

And because I get that, I’m not going to leave. If you walked in on

me when I was… when I was trying to… when I was trying to make

myself throw up, I’d want you to stop me even though I know I’d

try and argue and justify it with you.” Her fingers pry into mine as

she tries to steal the razor from my hand. “I get you!”

For a brief second her words stop the uncontrollable urge to

stab the razor deep into my skin, but then I panic again. I jerk my

arm back from her grip, ready to scream at her and probably say

words that will scar her for life. But as I move my arm, she winces

and she hastily withdraws her hand back to her. Her finger

skimmed the razor and her blood is dripping onto the floor by her

feet.

I no longer give a shit about the razor or getting rid of my

emotions. I chuck the blade into the sink. “Callie, I’m so fucking

sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” I’ve fucked things up again.

She’s clutching onto her finger and blood is spilling out and

her face is contorted in pain. She looks at me through her bangs

and I prepare myself for whatever she’s going to say: rejection,

hatred, anger. But then she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she

moves toward me and the next thing I know, she climbs onto me,

hitching her legs around my waist and fastening herself to me.

Then she wraps her arms around the back of my neck and presses

her forehead to the side of my neck, right where my pulse is

throbbing. I tense, but then a tranquil feeling rushes through my

body. My heart starts to still as she hugs me resolutely, trusting me wholly. I’ve never experienced anything like it, especially in the

middle of one of my meltdowns and I don’t know what to do with

myself except stand there with my hands lifelessly at my sides.

“Callie,” I say, but she steals my voice as she clutches onto

me and places kisses on my neck.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispers between each touch of her lips. “I

promise.”

I don’t fully understand what it is she’s promising, or maybe I

do and I’m just not ready to admit it yet. Either way, I find that I’m calm enough to leave the bathroom. I walk back to the bed and lie

us down. She refuses to let go of me even when I get us onto the

mattress. She crosses her ankles behind my waist, latching onto

me and making it impossible for me to escape.

But that’s okay. For the first time in my life I’m content

enough that I don’t want to.

Callie

I had one of those moments where I knew that every single

thing I did mattered, from the way that I breathed, to the tone of

my voice. Honestly, I am terrified out of my mind. I’d felt him wake

up, but I didn’t think too much off it, until suddenly I did. It

snapped me out of my sleep and I went in there, knowing I was

about to walk in on something that could potentially break me,

just like I did when I was twelve. This time things would end

differently though because I’d be strong and I’d save him, just like

he’s saved me.

He’s pissed about it, which is understandable, but it doesn’t

mean I give up and eventually it ends okay. Well, other than the

fact that I cut my finger open, something I’m painfully reminded of

when I open my eyes.

The sun is sparkling through the window and paints the sky

in contrasting shades of pink and orange. My finger is throbbing

and I realize I never cleaned it up. There’s blood on my hand, on

my arm, on the bed, and on Kayden’s chest where I am resting my

hand.

I sit up, cradling it in my other hand, and blink my eyes until

the room comes into focus. I’m still wearing Kayden’s shirt and it

smells like his cologne. Swinging my feet off the bed, I leave him to sleep as I head into the bathroom.

My hair is a tangled mess and there are dark circles under

my eyes. I feel exhausted as I turn the faucet on and wince when

the warm water runs over the wound, washing away the blood and

part of last night. I rest my elbows on the countertop and let my

head fall forward as I keep my hand beneath the water.

“Are you okay?” Kayden asks and I whip my head up,

startled.

He’s standing in the doorway, with his boxers on, and in the

bright morning light all of his scars are very distinctive against the outlines of his chest and ab muscles.

“I’m fine.” I shut off the water and reach for a towel, then

press my finger into it. “I just forgot to wash it off last night. That’s all.”

He steps into the bathroom and I tense as he extends his

hand for the towel. He lifts it off and brings my finger closer to his face, examining it. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says.

I shake my head. “You didn’t hurt me. It was my own fault…

and it was worth it.”

When he glances up at me, he looks horrified, but then the

look disappears and he lifts my hand to his lips. He places a tender

kiss on my finger and then moves his mouth downward to kiss my

hand. He continues to make a path of kisses across my forearm

and all the way to the crook of my arm, and then turns upward,

showering my skin in succulent kisses until he reaches the top of

my shoulder. He gives it an affectionate suck and his tongue rolls

out along my skin. The sensation of his zealous breath drives a

shiver through my body and I place a hand on his shoulder to keep

from falling down.

“You are the most amazing person,” he whispers against my

neck. “You really are.”

I almost start to cry. “So are you.”

His lips part again and he sucks on my neck, his tongue

savoring the taste of skin and the edge of his teeth gently grazing

it. My head distractedly falls to the side because it feels so good

and my fingers dip downward, gripping onto him and trying to

keep my legs from giving out. His mouth starts to progress upward

to the arch of my neck, to the spot where my pulse throbs, then to

the line of my jaw, the corner of my mouth. His moist lips dampen

my skin and knock the breath out of my chest in ravenous gasps of

air.

It’s like we’re locked in a box, protected from the world and

our fears. We can’t keep our hands off each other. There are so

many problems around us but all I can’t think about is him. When

our lips join, he turns us to the side and backs us toward the bed.

Maybe it’s crazy, with everything going on, to be so absorbed in

each other, instead of working on our problems. Maybe one day

we’ll look back and wonder what we were thinking. Or maybe we’ll

just remember the day we decided to escape the pain in the arms

of each other.

We collapse onto the bed, our legs twined together like a

snug vine. He’s on top of me, his shirt is still off, and I trace my

fingers along his firm chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the

dance of his heart beneath his chest. He scoots between my legs

and the shirt I’m wearing rides up over my stomach. His fingers

caress my skin right below my belly button and it tickles but it feels so overwhelmingly good at the same time. My knees lift upward as

heat spirals downward between my thighs and I contemplate how

far I’ve come in just a short while and how much I’m enjoying him

touching me.

His fingers hook the top of my panties, and he starts to

guide them down my knees. I’m still sore from the other times

we’ve had sex in the last twenty-four hours, but there’s no way I’m

going to stop him. It’s completely worth the pain. When my

panties reach my feet, I kick them off and then his hands glide

down my arms and he pulls me so I’m sitting up. With one rapid

tug, he jerks the shirt over my head and throws it on the floor.

My lungs heave wildly as I take the moment in. I’m naked in

front of him. Again. Me. Callie Lawrence. Every time I think about it, it gets to me. I start to lie back down while he takes his boxers off, but he quickly grabs my wrists and pulls me toward him. Then he

sits down and picks me up by the waist. I gasp as he lies down and

sets me on top of him, so one of my legs is on each side of his

hips. Before I can respond to the abruptness, his fingers spread

around to my back and he’s drawing my breast to his mouth. He

sucks on it repeatedly until I cry out and my legs press against him, and then his mouth leaves my breast and he lowers himself back

onto the bed with this content, hungry look in his eyes that makes

my skin swelter. He thrust his hips upward and he enters me. I cry

out again, biting my lip as my hands search for something to grab

onto. Like he reads my mind, he takes hold of my hand and steers

it to his shoulder where I grip forcefully and hold onto him as he

rocks inside me again and again until I think I’m going to explode.

Then he presses the palm of his hand to my back and pulls me

down to his lips. With one last thrust, he slips his tongue inside my mouth and kisses me passionately as every thought in my head

leaves me and my body spins out of control, soaring away before

returning again.

When I come back down from the high, panting and sweaty,

I think about how good it feels. And not just the sex. The

connection. The contact. The fact that I’m here. With him. And I’m

fine. More than fine. I think it might be time to tell. To get my

freedom back. Because I deserve to have it. I deserve to be here in

this moment.

Kayden

“If you could have one wish, what would it be?” Callie asks,

tracing a finger in circular motions along the palm of my hand.

It’s late and the sun is up and beaming into the room. Seth

and Luke haven’t woken up yet; at least that’s what I’ve

determined by the silence in the house. Her head is relaxed on my

arm, her leg is hitched over my stomach, and her hand is resting

over my heart.

“That we could stay just like this forever,” I answer truthfully.

Her head tips up and she meets my eyes. “That’s really what

you’d wish for?”

I nod, running my fingers through her soft hair that smells

like strawberries. “Absolutely. It’s peaceful.”

Her cheeks start to flush and I wonder what she’s thinking.

“What would we do if we stayed here forever?”

It’s fucking cute as hell that her dirty thoughts are making

her blush. “Whatever you want,” I say with a hint of laughter in my

voice.

She angles her face down against my chest and gives my

skin a kiss, sliding her tongue out. “I’d want to stay just like this.”

I chuckle underneath my breath and it hurts my lungs

because my muscles have been immovable for the past month. “Is

that all you’d want to do? Because your pink cheeks are

suggesting otherwise.” I trail my finger across her cheek and she

shudders. I love that she does, and yet I hate it at the same time

because it shows how much I affect her. “Or did you have

something else in mind?”

She’s quiet for a while and then she finally looks up at me,

her blue eyes large. Her cheeks are still pink and her hair frames

her face and her shoulders. “I didn’t have anything else in mind,”

she says. “I was just wondering.”

She’s lying, but I let her off the hook. Gathering some of her

hair out of her face, I move it behind her ear. I’m about to tell her we should probably get up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Um… I’ve been waiting as long as I can,” Seth says through

the door. “But at some point I have to come in there and get my

stuff.”

Callie pushes up from me and starts to kneel, with the sheet

pressed against her chest. I grab ahold of the edge of the sheet

and tug it down, then brush my finger over her nipple. She shivers

and I feel gratified as she gives a shy smile, backing off the bed,

naked.

She searches for her clothes, trying to cover her body with

her hands. She is so small, thin, fragile. I can’t help but think about how she said she made herself throw up and how I think maybe

we need to talk about it, since we’ve been talking about my

problems so much.

“Callie, please,” Seth begs, sounding hoarse and hung over. “I

really need to get my stuff.”

“Just a second.” Callie grabs a pair of shorts and a T-shirt