Craving Redemption
Page 19
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She was mine—and goddamn if I could change that.
I needed to get my fucking head checked.
Dragon called through the opening of the door, and my chest expanded as if I could block Callie from view if I could just make myself big enough. I didn’t want that fucker to see her like this, even if she was dressed. It was the most raw I’d ever seen a person, and I was sure as shit going to protect that. Even from a brother.
“Grease, we gotta go. Been here for half an hour already—you’re fuckin’ pushin’ it,” he grumbled.
Callie gave a start when Dragon spoke, and when my gaze snapped to hers, she was back. She didn’t say anything, but she was finally seeing me.
“Gimme a second, man,” I called back to him, never looking away from her face. “Gotta put up her hair and we’ll be out. Close the fuckin’ door.”
The door slammed shut and Callie flinched, so I leaned down and kissed between her eyebrows. I wasn’t sure how to comfort someone—it’d been a long time since my mom died—but I knew that whatever I was doing helped, because as soon as my lips met her head she sagged into me.
I grabbed a brush and ran it through her snarled hair, but I didn’t have time to get the tangles out, so I just pulled it back into a ponytail as it was. It looked like shit, but it’d keep it out of her face on the bike and that was all that mattered. I moved to walk toward the door, but she wrapped her arms around me like she was afraid to let me go, so instead, I grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up. Fuck, I was going to be carrying her to the john when I had to take a piss.
I nodded at the boys and headed to the hallway when she whispered in my ear that she needed something from her mom’s room. It was the first time she’d really spoken to me since I’d gotten there, so I wasn’t about to remind her we needed to get the hell out of dodge. I probably would’ve strapped a fucking futon to the back of my bike if that’s what she’d asked for.
When we got to her parents’ room, she stopped breathing, and I had to rub my hand up and down her back for a few moments before she dropped her legs and started toward the dresser. Sitting on top was a generic jewelry box, and when she reached it, she almost knocked it to the floor because her hands were shaking so badly. She reached in and grabbed something I couldn’t see before racing back to me. She was jumpy as shit—not that I could blame her. She gave me whatever she was holding and turned around so her back was facing me. It took a minute for me to figure out what the hell she was doing.
She’d dropped a thin gold chain with two pendants on it into my hand. One was a St. Christopher medal, and the other a tiny gold cross. She stood there quietly as I wrapped it around her neck and fumbled with the tiny-ass clasp. That shit was not made for my bear paw hands, but I eventually got it on her.
She spun around as soon as I was finished and climbed back up into my arms—was she fucking joking? But fuck if I cared. I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t want her there. She was a tiny little thing, and the way she molded to my body with her face in my neck was not anything I’d ever get tired of.
We made our way through the house, passing the bloodstains in the upstairs hallway and the entryway as I held her face against my neck, ensuring she wouldn’t look. She wasn’t moving, just quietly breathing into my throat, but I didn’t want to take any chances that she’d see the fucking huge puddles of blood that covered the floor. I didn’t want her to go blank again.
When we got to my bike, I tried to figure out a way to make her get down, but I shouldn’t have worried. The minute I told her I was taking her to see her Gram, she completely let go of me, the weight shift almost making me drop her before I could set her on her feet. I was in the process of changing out my smelly t-shirt for a clean one in my saddlebags when she spoke up.
“She’s not dead?” she asked, looking at me like I’d just invented the fucking moon.
I reached up and put my hands on both sides of her face. I knew it was fucked up, but I loved the way she was looking at me. Like I’d give her anything. I was sure I was going to hell, and the whole situation was total shit, but I was soaking up the fact that she needed me. Shit, no one had ever needed me like she did right then—and I knew it wouldn’t last long, but for just a few more minutes she was completely mine. I put my face close and ran my nose up the side of hers, wanting to kiss her but knowing it sure as fuck wasn’t the right time.
“No, baby. She’s waiting for you.”
Chapter 11
Callie
The ride to Gram’s house was a blur of anticipation and apprehension that I had a hard time remembering. After Asa grabbed a clean shirt from his saddle bags and slipped it on, we left my house behind. I didn’t realize it would be the last time I’d ever step foot in the house I’d grown up in, but even had I known that I wouldn’t have looked back. Any good memories I had there couldn’t overpower the almost twenty-four hours of horror I had gone through.
Being out in the open on the back of a bike was the very last thing I wanted to do, but Asa said he’d protect me, and for some reason I believed him. I clutched his waist with my arms, my nails digging into his hard abdomen the entire way, but he didn’t make any complaints or ask me to loosen my grip. Every once in a while he’d rest one of his hands on mine, rubbing it softly before putting it back up on his handlebars. I timed the ride by the motion of his hands, waiting patiently for him to do it again and again until we got to Gram’s.
I needed to get my fucking head checked.
Dragon called through the opening of the door, and my chest expanded as if I could block Callie from view if I could just make myself big enough. I didn’t want that fucker to see her like this, even if she was dressed. It was the most raw I’d ever seen a person, and I was sure as shit going to protect that. Even from a brother.
“Grease, we gotta go. Been here for half an hour already—you’re fuckin’ pushin’ it,” he grumbled.
Callie gave a start when Dragon spoke, and when my gaze snapped to hers, she was back. She didn’t say anything, but she was finally seeing me.
“Gimme a second, man,” I called back to him, never looking away from her face. “Gotta put up her hair and we’ll be out. Close the fuckin’ door.”
The door slammed shut and Callie flinched, so I leaned down and kissed between her eyebrows. I wasn’t sure how to comfort someone—it’d been a long time since my mom died—but I knew that whatever I was doing helped, because as soon as my lips met her head she sagged into me.
I grabbed a brush and ran it through her snarled hair, but I didn’t have time to get the tangles out, so I just pulled it back into a ponytail as it was. It looked like shit, but it’d keep it out of her face on the bike and that was all that mattered. I moved to walk toward the door, but she wrapped her arms around me like she was afraid to let me go, so instead, I grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up. Fuck, I was going to be carrying her to the john when I had to take a piss.
I nodded at the boys and headed to the hallway when she whispered in my ear that she needed something from her mom’s room. It was the first time she’d really spoken to me since I’d gotten there, so I wasn’t about to remind her we needed to get the hell out of dodge. I probably would’ve strapped a fucking futon to the back of my bike if that’s what she’d asked for.
When we got to her parents’ room, she stopped breathing, and I had to rub my hand up and down her back for a few moments before she dropped her legs and started toward the dresser. Sitting on top was a generic jewelry box, and when she reached it, she almost knocked it to the floor because her hands were shaking so badly. She reached in and grabbed something I couldn’t see before racing back to me. She was jumpy as shit—not that I could blame her. She gave me whatever she was holding and turned around so her back was facing me. It took a minute for me to figure out what the hell she was doing.
She’d dropped a thin gold chain with two pendants on it into my hand. One was a St. Christopher medal, and the other a tiny gold cross. She stood there quietly as I wrapped it around her neck and fumbled with the tiny-ass clasp. That shit was not made for my bear paw hands, but I eventually got it on her.
She spun around as soon as I was finished and climbed back up into my arms—was she fucking joking? But fuck if I cared. I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t want her there. She was a tiny little thing, and the way she molded to my body with her face in my neck was not anything I’d ever get tired of.
We made our way through the house, passing the bloodstains in the upstairs hallway and the entryway as I held her face against my neck, ensuring she wouldn’t look. She wasn’t moving, just quietly breathing into my throat, but I didn’t want to take any chances that she’d see the fucking huge puddles of blood that covered the floor. I didn’t want her to go blank again.
When we got to my bike, I tried to figure out a way to make her get down, but I shouldn’t have worried. The minute I told her I was taking her to see her Gram, she completely let go of me, the weight shift almost making me drop her before I could set her on her feet. I was in the process of changing out my smelly t-shirt for a clean one in my saddlebags when she spoke up.
“She’s not dead?” she asked, looking at me like I’d just invented the fucking moon.
I reached up and put my hands on both sides of her face. I knew it was fucked up, but I loved the way she was looking at me. Like I’d give her anything. I was sure I was going to hell, and the whole situation was total shit, but I was soaking up the fact that she needed me. Shit, no one had ever needed me like she did right then—and I knew it wouldn’t last long, but for just a few more minutes she was completely mine. I put my face close and ran my nose up the side of hers, wanting to kiss her but knowing it sure as fuck wasn’t the right time.
“No, baby. She’s waiting for you.”
Chapter 11
Callie
The ride to Gram’s house was a blur of anticipation and apprehension that I had a hard time remembering. After Asa grabbed a clean shirt from his saddle bags and slipped it on, we left my house behind. I didn’t realize it would be the last time I’d ever step foot in the house I’d grown up in, but even had I known that I wouldn’t have looked back. Any good memories I had there couldn’t overpower the almost twenty-four hours of horror I had gone through.
Being out in the open on the back of a bike was the very last thing I wanted to do, but Asa said he’d protect me, and for some reason I believed him. I clutched his waist with my arms, my nails digging into his hard abdomen the entire way, but he didn’t make any complaints or ask me to loosen my grip. Every once in a while he’d rest one of his hands on mine, rubbing it softly before putting it back up on his handlebars. I timed the ride by the motion of his hands, waiting patiently for him to do it again and again until we got to Gram’s.
