Craving Redemption (12 page)

There was no way I could have left her passed out and alone on the floor of that house. The longer I knew her, and the more time I spent with her glued to my side, the more I knew that the decision to keep her safe had been the right one.

It was the decision to walk away that hadn’t been right.

At some point, Callie was going to realize that her fucked up life was entirely my fault. She was going to blame me and hate me and wish she’d never met me.

But at that moment, in her Gram’s bedroom, she wasn’t doing any of those things. Instead, she was standing in front of me, pulling the rubber band out of my hair far more gently than I ever had, and running her fingers through my hair.

I wasn’t a fucking saint.

I asked her if she was planning on crying again, mostly because I wasn’t sure where her head was at, and when she told me no, that was it.

I pulled her onto my lap, on her grandmother’s fucking bed, and I kissed the shit out of her.

I was so distracted by the taste of her that I didn’t notice her whimper at first. It wasn’t until the taste of blood filled my mouth that I ripped my head back to see what the fuck was going on. She had blood pooling in the corner of her lip, and for a second, I was afraid I’d fucking bitten her or something.

She wiped at the blood, swallowing thickly as her face turned beet red.

“I’m sorry! My mouth’s just—well, my braces…” she stuttered, looking at me apologetically.

“Holy fuck! Did I just do that to you?” Shit, I kissed her and drew blood. My thoughts were completely self-centered until she started trying to pull herself off my lap.

“No. Um, yesterday my mouth was really dry—and I wasn’t being careful.” She tried to lift her leg over me to crawl off the bed, but I grabbed both of her thighs and pulled her tight against me, effectively ending her squirming as her breath caught. “My braces cut a bunch of little sores on the inside of my cheeks. Totally not your fault.”

“Ah, sweetheart, why didn’t you say anything?” I asked her quietly, finally understanding what was going on. I’d never been with a chick with braces, and I couldn’t remember any of the kids at the club having them growing up, either. But it wasn’t hard to see how having metal fucking brackets in your mouth could fuck your shit up.

“Let me see, Sugar.” I hoped that the damage wasn’t bad enough that she’d need stitches or something.
Fuck. That was all we needed.

She pulled her lips out on the sides and turned them a little inside out so I could see the little red sores in her poor mouth. The things must have burned like hellfire, but she hadn’t said a word about them until I’d fucking attacked her.

“You got something you can use to fix it?”

“I’ve got wax in my purse I think. I forgot it here at Gram’s the other night.” She gave me a small smile. “It won’t help the cuts, but it’ll keep the little fuckers from making them worse.”

The bravado in her eyes from dropping an f-bomb mixed with the little goddamn dimple in her cheek had me smiling back at her. I couldn’t even help myself. It was so fucking…cute. I knew at any minute she was going to remember—she was going to get lost again in grief and guilt, and those few minutes where it was just her and I would be over.

Instead of talking to her, rubbing her back, or getting up so she could go find some of that fucking wax she needed for her braces, I lifted my hand and wrapped it around the back of her neck so I could bring her mouth to mine again.

I was careful, but I still tasted blood when I licked her lower lip.

“Ugh. Gross. I’m sorry. My mouth’s still bleeding,” she told me quietly, but her hands were still threaded through my goddamn hair.
Christ, that was hot.

“Don’t fuckin’ care,” I mumbled before pushing my tongue between her lips.

No one could ever accuse me of being a good guy.

Chapter 17

Callie

For a few moments, I was just a normal sixteen-year-old girl again.

He kissed me over and over, careful of the braces, but completely unconcerned with the way my mouth still tasted vaguely of blood. He tasted like tobacco and the gum that was tucked into his cheek, and I practically inhaled him as he tried to keep the kiss light. It wasn’t until we’d reached the breaking point and I was beginning to rock against the thickness in his pants that he finally pulled away.

“Pretty sure this isn’t what your grandma expected us to be doing in her bed,” he told me gruffly, using his hands on my hips to push me back until I was standing by the side of the bed.

“Ha! I’m surprised you care what my Gram thinks we’re doing,” I answered ruefully, still a little dazed as I ran my fingers through my tangled and greasy hair.
Yuck, I needed a shower.

His head snapped up at my joke and his jaw was clenched as he stood up from the bed, putting his own hair back into a ponytail.

“Baby, we’re in her house. She’s cooking for us, letting us crash here, and she’s your grandmother. Woman deserves respect,” he chastised, making me feel like a jackass.

I nodded once and then dropped my head to the side, pretending to look at something on Gram’s dresser so I didn’t have to make eye contact. He made me feel like a child. Getting away with something was a common game among my friends, with each of us detailing to each other how we’d snuck around. It had been exciting, doing the forbidden. Now, though, it just seemed immature and stupid.

I was trying to look anywhere but at him, but he wouldn’t let me hide for long. His smile was tender as he wrapped his hand gently around my throat to tilt my face toward his.

“Calliope, we’re under your grandmother’s roof. Not gonna disrespect her and I’m too old to be sneaking around and keeping quiet when I’m with my woman,” he told me, leaning down to give me a deep, wet kiss. “We weren’t here? You’d already be naked and making so much fuckin’ noise you’d be waking up the neighbors.”

He winked at me before turning and opening the door, waving me through.

Whatever universe I’d been in, or part of my mind I’d shut off when I’d realized that he was feeling guilty and I’d needed to comfort him, rushed back with the speed of a freight train when I walked back out into the living room.

Gram and the men were talking quietly at the kitchen table, crowded around almost uncomfortably in the small space, and I didn’t have to wonder why.

My baby brother was sitting on the couch, bent over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

He was crying. Quietly. Privately.

I glanced up at Asa, who nodded, and then went to Cody. Sitting down next to his hunched back, I draped myself over him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and laid my head on his shoulder.

“Hey, brother,” I whispered, giving him a squeeze.

“Hey,” he sniffed once, rubbing his hand underneath his nose. “This fucking sucks, Callie. What are we gonna do? Gram just got off the phone with the funeral parlor and she’s making all of these arrangements and shit,” he swallowed loudly, using his thumb and fingers to dig into his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing right now.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Let’s go talk to Gram and see what the plan is, okay?” I pulled him from the couch and dragged him into the kitchen, stopping directly in front of Gram.

“What do you need help with? Anything we can do?” I asked her forcefully. It may have come out a little more abrasive than I hoped because Poet huffed at the end of the table in amusement. I glared at him, causing his eyebrows to raise in response, and then turned to Gram again. “We don’t want you to have to do all of this by yourself, so tell us what the plan is.”

Gram smiled up at Cody and me then stood and wrapped her arms around us. “How’d I get grandkids like you? Huh? Best of the bunch, I tell ya.”

“Gram,” Cody replied, his voice muffled by her shoulder, “I’m reasonably sure that we’re your
only
grandchildren.”

“Reasonably?”

“Well, Uncle Tommy and Uncle Charles got around…” he told her with a laugh, jumping away before she could swat him with a towel.

“That’s okay! Run away now… I’ll remember this far longer than you will, my dear,” she told him with a twinkle in her eye.

I was grinning at them both, my head whipping from side to side, when Poet spoke up from his place at the table, effectively ending our lighthearted moment. God, I was smiling and laughing.
What the hell was wrong with me?

“Rose, I know that the funeral is important to you guys, but we’re gonna have to figure out what Callie’s doing. Time’s running short—I got shit to do in Oregon and my boys can’t stay here babysitting.”

“Callie, sit down, darlin’. Time to talk,” Gram told me grimly. “You too, Cody.”

The men sitting around the table backed off, a couple going into the living room and the others heading toward the front door, pulling cigarettes out of their chest pockets. Only Gram, Cody, Asa, Poet, and I were left in the kitchen when Gram sat down heavily.

“Baby girl, you’re gonna have to move,” she told me wearily, running her fingers over her bottom lip in a nervous gesture I’d seen a million times. “It’s not safe for you here.”

I watched in silence as she seemed to think over her next words carefully, and for a moment it looked like she wasn’t going to say anything else. When I was about to speak up, she started explaining what was going to happen.

“Grease is gonna take you up to Eugene. That’s where they live and they can keep an eye on what’s happening. As soon as I get all of your parents’ legal stuff and Cody’s school stuff taken care of, I’ll follow you up there.”

I felt my eyes start to water as I thought about moving all by myself, but swallowed hard and kept it together. Moving to Oregon was the least of my worries. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but the idea of being so far away from the only family I had left was a daunting prospect.

“Okay,” I answered her, my voice breaking a little.

“Gram…” Cody looked between us, his skin pale and his eyes worried. “What about me?”

“Well, you’ll go to school. It’ll be the same as it was before, except you’ll fly to Oregon to be with us on your breaks,” she reassured him.

She turned back to me and opened her mouth to give me more details when Cody’s voice broke through the quiet again.

“I can’t!” he told us, looking back and forth at our faces as if gauging our reactions. “My scholarship—the one that pays for school? It’s for exceptional students in
San Diego County
. They won’t pay for school if we live somewhere else.”

Gram and I both burst out with words of denial, but halted mid-sentence when Asa’s dark haired friend, Dragon, opened the front door and leaned inside.

“Poet! Grease! We’ve got a situation.”

Chapter 18

Callie

Poet and Asa hopped up from the table like it was on fire and moved toward the front door after Dragon slammed it shut—both reaching for guns I hadn’t noticed in the waistbands of their jeans. I’m not sure if it was the thought of cowering like I’d done before, or the thought that Asa could be in danger, but when Gram grabbed my arm I shrugged her off and followed them outside.

When I crossed the threshold, I couldn’t see anything at first. Gram’s house stayed shaded inside during the day in an attempt to beat the heat, so walking into the waning sunlight had me raising my hand in front of my face to shield my eyes. When I’d acclimated to the change, my hand dropped limply to my side as I registered what I was seeing.

There were Hispanic guys all over my Gram’s driveway and two silver SUVs with spinning chrome rims blocking our vehicles in. For some reason, I couldn’t look away from the rims of those SUVs. I’d never understood why people chose them for their cars, and the way they kept moving, even though everything else was still, felt like an omen.

“Javier,” Poet rumbled from a few steps ahead of me. “What brings you out for a visit?”

“Eh, you know, just taking a little survey in the neighborhood. It seems your neighbors don’t like having bikers clogging up their parking spaces,” one of the Hispanic men answered, causing my eyes to shift toward the group on the ground.

Our guys were standing in a semi-circle around the front of Gram’s trailer, their bodies tensed and ready, but the Hispanic men weren’t in any sort of formation. They were standing around the driveway, some leaning on the vehicles, looking like they were out for a casual stroll. There were so many of them, though, that their appearance was deceiving. Even if they didn’t look like they were ready for anything, their sheer numbers were enough to cause a tightening in my stomach.

Wait, when had I started to think of those bikers as ‘ours’?

“Well, you took your survey, now it’s time to leave. I’m feeling… mellow, today. And I doubt Rose’d like my boys using up a fuck-load of water cleaning blood off her driveway,” Poet growled back, making the hair at the base of my neck stand up.

“Your boys killed three of my men. It’s not something that can go unpunished. You know this,” the man answered back almost gently.

Poet scoffed, “Three? I thought it was four? Well, fuck me. Looks like you left one breathing,” he said, barely turning his head in Grease’s direction.

“Cabrón! I’ll have blood for this. Hand over the girl and we’re even.” The man spit on the ground, and for the first time, looked at me, causing me to sink back.

“Not gonna happen, you little Mexican piece of shit,” Grease growled, stepping sideways so I could no longer see what was happening. “Get the fuck out of here.”

The man started spouting off in Spanish, and I wished for one minute that I didn’t understand the language of my mother. His words cut off when Gram stepped out from behind me, almost shoving Grease aside as she started using Spanish words of her own. I was so surprised that she was fluent, that it took me a minute to register what she was actually saying. It wasn’t until she started using English that everything became clear… or at least, less confusing.

“I’ve got contacts of my own, you little cocksucker. If my boys were alive, you’d already be dead for what you’ve done to my family,” she hissed, yanking me fully behind her as she raged. “You leave my granddaughter alone or I’ll see you in hell!”