Craving Redemption
Page 103

“Come on, honey,” Vera said forcefully. “Let’s get you a drink. This is a celebration!”
I let her drag me into the clubhouse.
The next two hours were a blur of toasts made with any liquor we had on hand. Brothers were bringing me their drinks of choice—whiskey and tequila mostly—and they were so genuinely glad that I was back that I couldn’t turn them down without feeling like an asshole.
I woke up the next morning, face-first on my bed, with my boots hanging off my feet, and no shirt.
Oh, shit. Callie was going to be fucking livid.
I rolled out of bed slowly, my stomach fucking churning as I got to my feet. I needed a shower and some coffee before I could even think about hitting the road.
It took me less than an hour before I left, but it felt like days as I tried to get Callie on the phone. She wasn’t answering, and I knew she was pissed. Dragon followed me down, making sure we got to Sacramento without any problems, and it was annoying as fuck that they thought I needed some sort of babysitter. I didn’t mind the company, though—it gave me something to focus on other than the fight I knew I was gonna have with Callie.
Dragon kept riding when I pulled into the parking lot of the apartments. I recognized Callie’s new car from what she’d described to me, but I didn’t see Gram’s anywhere. Good. I didn’t want to deal with other people when I was dealing with whatever shit storm I’d walk into.
The door was locked when I got to her apartment, so I reached up and grabbed the key I knew would be hidden behind the siding above the door. I’d told her and Farrah to stop putting that shit there—but I somehow knew they wouldn’t. Fucking idiots. Anyone could just walk into their living room.
The place was quiet when I opened the door, but I immediately saw Callie sitting silently on the couch facing me. She was wearing a little black robe that barely covered her thighs, and the way it gaped between her tits had my heart thundering in my chest. Her back was perfectly straight, feet flat on the floor, and her hands were gripped tightly together in her lap as she watched me walk in.
There was no expression on her face.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I called quietly, shutting and locking the door behind me and pocketing the key. “I know you’re pissed, but I can explain.”
She didn’t say a word.
“Club had a welcome home party for me last night—planned to head out after a couple hours, but the boys were bringing me drinks and I didn’t want to end up getting a fuckin’ DUI on my way down,” I told her as I walked slowly toward her, every part of my body begging me to rush. “I know you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” she told me seriously. “I’m done.”
“What?” I slammed to a stop just feet from her.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she answered quietly.
“Fuckin’ explain, Calliope.”
“Last night,” she swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut, before she pierced me with them. “Last night, Will and I made spaghetti,” she told me, searching my face. “I told him all about how his daddy was coming home and we had to make him a special dinner. So we cooked, and I helped him clean up his toys while he rattled on about his daddy, mostly shit that I couldn’t understand because he’s twenty months old and most of the shit he says is gibberish.”
Her thumbnail started scratching against the skin of her hand as I watched, vomit building in my throat.
“Eventually, I had to make him eat dinner, even though he was adamant that daddy was supposed to eat the spaghetti.” She paused and took a deep breath. “So, we ate, and we waited. Will finally crashed around one, after fussing and complaining for hours because he didn’t want to go to bed, and then it was just me, waiting.”
“I’m—”
“I waited right here, all night,” she cut me off. “Because I knew that you’d be here. I knew you were as anxious as I was, and I didn’t doubt that you were on your way. I didn’t doubt it because you promised you were headed straight here. So I waited. And eventually, Will woke up and wanted breakfast. So I made him breakfast while he jabbered on and on about you, but you still weren’t here.”
“I got here as soon as I could,” I told her anxiously, palms up.
“I waited while I was giving Will his bath, and lunch, and finally put him down for his afternoon nap that he fought me on.” Her gaze moved across the room, gazing at nothing, and I immediately missed her eyes on me. “And now it’s twenty-four hours later, and I’m still in the nightgown I bought especially for your homecoming, and I have absolutely no desire to show it to you. None. I’m done.”
“Sweetheart, I know you’re mad. And I’m sorry as hell that I wasn’t here and didn’t call…”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you did,” she told me with a shake of her head. “I broke it last night.”
I followed her gaze to the corner of the room and the cracked cellphone lying at the base of the wall.
“You went to the club instead of coming home,” she whispered pitifully.
“You could have been there!” I snapped, felling like shit and lashing out in defense. “They tried to get a hold of you, but you’ve been ignoring them the entire time I’ve been gone!”
“Why would I want anything to do with them?” she sneered, making me take a step back in surprise. “That club has completely fucked up my life for four years! They were the goddamn reason you were in prison!”