Craving Redemption Read online

Page 15


  I’d like to say that the next night was easier, but it wasn’t.

  The third and fourth nights weren’t any better.

  But on the fifth night, something finally clicked—or my body was just too tired to stay awake any longer, because when I got home from school, I fell asleep on the couch. I didn’t wake up until sunlight hit my face through the tiny window in the kitchen.

  I hopped up from the couch and ran to the bathroom. Sleeping for sixteen hours was no joke when it came to matters of bodily functions. I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d been radio silent for all that time until I picked up my phone and my heart sank in my chest.

  I had forty-seven missed calls and one hundred and four text messages. All of them from Asa and Gram.

  I called Asa first.

  “Are you okay, Sugar? Where are you?” he roared into the phone. I pulled it away from my face so he wouldn’t burst my eardrums, and when I heard him quiet down a little I brought it back.

  “I’m so sorry!” I told him anxiously, “I fell asleep after school and I just woke up!”

  “What do you mean you fell asleep after school? It’s Saturday,” he asked , his voice an ominous rumble that made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

  “I know it’s Saturday, I’m not stupid. I fell asleep yesterday after school and didn’t wake up until today,” I answered, enunciating every word.

  “Are you seriously lying to me right now? What the fuck, Callie? That’s like twenty-four hours of sleep.”

  “No it’s not. It’s sixteen, and I’m not lying,” I snapped back. I was starting to get a little peeved at that point. I knew he was worried, so I would let him get away with a little pissy behavior, but I couldn’t believe he was accusing me of lying.

  “Why the hell would you need to sleep for sixteen hours?” he scoffed back, as if I was being completely ridiculous.

  “Because I haven’t slept since you left, you jackass!”

  My hand flew to my mouth at the confession, and I berated myself silently as I realized what I’d done. I’d played the happy-go-lucky, well-adjusted girlfriend on the phone that week, and all of the lies and assurances I’d given him were wiped out in an instant.

  “Aw, Sugar. I’m sorry you’re not sleeping,” he crooned quietly, his bad attitude completely vanished. “What’s keeping you up? You scared or are you having a hard time shutting your brain off?”

  “A little of both, I guess,” I confessed, “but it’s getting better.”

  “Shit, Callie, I wish I could be there,” he complained. “I’ve got some shit going down the next two weeks, but I may be able to come down for a couple days the week after.”

  “Okay, that sounds awesome!” I exclaimed, and the excitement in my voice had him laughing quietly. “Hey—I better get off of here and call Gram. She’s been blowing up my phone all night.”

  “Yeah, I bet. I called her last night,” he warned, and then I heard him sigh, “I was getting ready to get on my bike and come looking for you.”

  “Well, damn,” I huffed in mock annoyance. “I should’ve slept for another hour.”

  “Not funny, Calliope. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

  We said our goodbyes as the background noise on his phone got louder, and once we hung up I wondered what he was doing. It sounded like he was surrounded by people, but I wasn’t confident enough to ask about it. I didn’t want him to think I was checking up on him or something ridiculous like that.

  My phone call to Gram sounded eerily similar to the one with Asa, but thankfully, Gram said that she would be headed up to check out my place later in the week after she dropped Cody at the airport. It filled me with relief that she was coming to see me, but it also made my stomach drop to know that Cody was headed back across the country and what that meant.

  The coroner had finally released my parents’ bodies and my parents were getting their funeral.

  On one hand, I was glad that they were no longer being poked and prodded in some sterile lab, but on the other, it was gut-wrenching to know that their time was finally coming to a close. Soon they’d be buried in the ground, and I struggled with the fact that I wouldn’t be there to say my goodbyes.

  I’d never gotten to say goodbye.

  It also made me sick to my stomach when I thought of the way I’d been so focused on Asa and my new life. I’d pushed my parents’ gruesome death to the back of my mind so I could just get through each day, and I’d latched on to new problems in order to hide the old ones. Because of this, I’d been projecting all of my angst onto things that weren’t impossible to change. I could never get my parents back, they were completely lost to me—but I could change the situation with Asa even if I was refusing to do so.

  Knowing that the things I was upset about could change if I wanted them to gave me a sense of control—the control I’d lost when I took that drink at that party. If I just kept my mind on matters that were easily rectified, I could lock the door on things that I knew could never be fixed.

  Missing my boyfriend, and choosing that to be my solid focus, made me feel normal in a life that was far from it.

  So that’s what I did.

  I got up that day, did my laundry, and took a shower. I went along living a life that I’d never envisioned for myself, and pretended not to know that my parents were being buried just three days later.

  Instead, I thought about Asa, what he was doing, and why there were so many people with him when I’d talked to him on the phone.

  It wasn’t until I was in bed that night, lying in the quiet, that I thought about my parents and how much I missed them. Then, once I’d pulled the blankets up and over my head, I let the tears and gut-wrenching sobs envelop me.

  Sorrow was such a small word for such a huge emotion.

  Chapter 30

  Callie

  I woke up Tuesday morning with a feeling of dread.

  Holy God, my parents were going to be buried that day and I wasn’t there. I wondered if they knew what was happening, if they’d understand why I wasn’t there for Cody and Gram. I had a feeling that they’d be relieved that I was out of danger even though they wouldn’t be too pleased about my living arrangements. I curled further into my blankets and let quiet tears run over the bridge of my nose and into the hair at my temples. I missed them—even their overprotectiveness that had plagued me for as long as I could remember.

  I didn’t move when the alarm went off beside my bed, letting the grating beep go on and on until it finally quieted. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it didn’t really matter anyway—I wasn’t getting out of bed. If the day of my parents’ funeral wasn’t cause for a day off, I wasn’t sure what was. Instead, I reached under my pillow for my cell phone and sent off a quick text to Farrah.

  “Not going to school today”

  “Y?”

  “Sick”

  “Bullshit! Just saw you yesterday.”

  “Text you later”

  “WTF?”

  I tried to fall back asleep, hoping that it would make the day pass quickly, but thirty minutes later there was a pounding on my front door. My heart raced and my entire body froze. I couldn’t think of any reason that someone would be at my door. Only Asa’s friends knew where I lived and I hadn’t seen them since he left.

  I opened up my phone quietly to call Asa when I heard a familiar voice yelling.

  “I know you’re in there!” Knock. Knock. Knock. “Open up, Callie! I better see vomit!”

  Farrah’s yelling and knocking escalated as I stumbled my way into the living room. I wasn’t sure how she found out where I lived, but I wanted to hug her for showing up.

  I opened up the door, almost getting punched in the face as I caught her mid-knock.

  “Damn, girl. You look like shit,” she told me as she pushed her way inside. “But you’re not sick.”

  I shut the door behind her, flipping the two deadbolts I’d begged Asa to install before he left. I’d never again be caught unawa
re by someone coming into my house.

  “So, what’s up? That Ace hottie drop you?” she asked me, dropping onto the couch.

  I laughed a little at her guess; little did she know she was sitting on his furniture.

  “No, he’s fine. Still in Oregon, though,” I replied, walking into the kitchen to brew some coffee. If I was going to be staying awake, I needed a boost.

  “Well, what’s the deal? You look like someone kicked your dog,” she asked in an exasperated tone, following me in and taking a seat at one of our barstools.

  “My parents’ funeral is today,” I answered quietly, deciding to just rip of the metaphorical band-aid. If she was staying, she’d have to know eventually. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep it together for long.

  She was silent behind me, and I gave her a minute to let the news sink in before turning around to face her. By the time I was looking at her again, she’d wiped all surprise off her face but was looking at me with sympathetic eyes.

  “A gang in San Diego broke into our house and shot them while I hid in the closet,” I explained, not sure where the verbal diarrhea was coming from, but feeling an immense sense of relief from just saying the words out loud. I hadn’t been keeping it a secret, but it felt like one.

  “Dang. Tough break,” she told me seriously, and I couldn’t help the snort that made its way out of my nose. Tough break? God, she was so unflappable.

  I think that’s why I’d chosen to tell her. She’d seen pretty much everything while living with her mother.

  We spent the day watching movies and eating everything in the house. The movies didn’t keep my mind off what was happening, but the marijuana she’d brought with her did a pretty admirable job. By mutual agreement, we didn’t discuss my situation with Asa. She had to have been really curious, but she didn’t ask. I think she was used to not being able to ask questions about things—living occasionally with her Ace quasi stepdad made sure of that.

  However, by the afternoon, I was dying to discuss stuff with her. I wanted to know her opinion on everything—my relationship, the weird living arrangement, and Asa’s job.

  “So, he just… claimed you and then moved your ass up here?” she asked lazily, rolling her head against the back of the couch until she was looking at me.

  “Yup. Just like that,” I replied, trying and failing to snap my fingers in emphasis.

  “Yeah, he fucked up.” She nodded slowly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I gasped, offended.

  “Not about you, idiot.” She waved her hands in front of her. “He never shoulda left you down there in the first place. He shoulda made sure you were safe first.”

  “Well…” I paused, thinking over her words and then answering strongly, “he couldn’t have known what would happen.”

  She watched me closely for a few seconds and then turned her face back toward the TV.

  “Sure. You’re right,” she stated, already focusing on the movie.

  “Do you think it’s weird, me living here and him just coming to visit once in a while—even though he’s paying for everything?” I asked, pulling her attention back to me.

  “I wouldn’t know. I mean, we only see Gator once in a while… but he’s got a wife,” she replied distractedly, not realizing that each word she spoke was like a slap in the face.

  I took a minute to control my facial expression, fiddling with the blanket I’d dragged off my bed to cuddle with. I didn’t want her to see that I felt like shit at her comment. Did Asa have a wife? He seemed too young for it, but he could easily have a girlfriend in Eugene. Or… an old lady. That’s what the guys had called their significant others when they’d visited.

  There wasn’t any way to become emotional without making it seem like I thought Farrah’s mom was a slut, so I made myself think of other things.

  “Your mom’s boyfriend is named Gator?” I asked her, with a small laugh.

  “Yeah, how fucking stupid is that?”

  A few hours later, she had to leave to take her car home so her mom could drive to work. I wasn’t sure what her mom did for a living, but I’d seen her once before and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a stripper. The fact that Farrah stayed home alone most nights made me feel even more connected to her. We were two teenage girls that had to play grown-up every day when school got out, and knowing that she was living a similar life made me feel less alone.

  I straightened up the house a little and made myself a pizza pocket while I waited for and dreaded my nightly phone calls. Gram called every night if I hadn’t called her by eight o’clock. It was reassuring to know that she was checking up on me, but that night I was on pins and needles waiting for my phone to ring.

  For the first time since I’d moved, I didn’t want to talk to her.

  When she finally called, my phone startled me by vibrating on the kitchen counter. I walked over to check the caller ID, but didn’t even pick it up. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from answering, just to hear her voice. If it had been any other night, I would have relished the phone call. But, I knew if I picked up the phone I’d be able to hear the grief in her voice and I didn’t think I could handle it. So I just stood there, staring at it until it stopped vibrating, not even checking the voicemail that she’d left.

  As I got ready for bed, I carried my phone around with me. I was planning on avoiding Asa’s call, too, but oddly I didn’t want to miss it. I was too raw, and I was picturing him in Oregon with a whole other family, my imagination running wild. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to him although I wanted to hear his voice just as badly as my Gram’s.

  It wasn’t until I was in bed, surrounded by the comfort of my blankets, that I worked up the courage to listen to Gram’s voicemail.

  Hey, baby girl. I’m sure you’re having a hell of a day… just text me and let me know you’re all right. Okay? I can’t figure out this damn phone to text you back, but I’ll be able to see if you send me one. If you don’t, I’m gonna worry… I dropped your brother at the airport this afternoon and he seemed okay—but you might want to call him in the morning. He’s missing you like crazy… Okay, well, I’m gonna get off of here. I’ll be heading out bright and early in the morning—so I should be up there around dinner time. I love you, Callie Rose.

  I listened to her voicemail twice before pulling the phone away from my face and texting her that I loved her. It felt like years since I’d seen her, and I couldn’t wait for her to get there the next day. I even giggled a bit at her complaints about not being able to work her cell phone.

  As I lay awake that night, listening to the sounds of the apartments around mine, I felt calmer than I had in days. I’d successfully made it through one of the hardest days of my life.

  But when I finally drifted off to sleep, my heart ached.

  And Asa never called.

  Chapter 31

  Callie

  Gram showed up half an hour after I got home from school. I’d barely set down my messenger bag and stuffed my dirty laundry into my bedroom closet before she was knocking. I practically skipped to the front door and swung it open hard after I’d unlatched the locks.

  She didn’t even make it past the threshold before I was in her arms.

  “Hey, baby girl,” she whispered into the side of my head, giving me a kiss before she pushed me away so she could look me over.

  “Well, you haven’t starved to death,” she commented as she pushed her purse higher on her shoulder. “But you look skinnier.”

  “That’s what happens when you don’t eat fried food every night,” I joked before stopping short.

  “Hey, now, none of that,” she said forcefully as she poked me in the side and walked past. “Can’t be careful of everything you say, baby. Things are different for you now, no use pretending otherwise.”

  I closed the door and locked it before following Gram to where she was standing in the middle of the kitchen.

  “What?” I aske
d nervously. She was just standing there, her eyes darting from the floor to the cabinets above the sink.

  “You cleaned up since you moved in?” she asked as she dropped her purse on the counter.

  “Yeah,” I looked around in confusion, “I straighten up before I go to bed at night.”

  “Callie, you actually have to wash things,” she told me in exasperation as she turned on the water in the sink, pulling the little metal strainer thing out and reaching in with her fingers to clean out the drain.

  “I do wash things!” I snapped back, embarrassed.

  “Your mother did you no favors by following you around and cleaning up your messes,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

  My back snapped straight at her comment and my stomach began to churn.

  “Don’t talk bad about my mom,” I growled at her, causing her head to whip toward me.

  “I’m not talking bad about anyone,” she answered, her eyebrows raised. “I loved your mother, Callie. Don’t you talk to me like I’d ever say a word against her.”

  “You didn’t even talk to her! You wouldn’t even come to our house!” I practically screeched back at her, my hands trembling. I didn’t know where it was coming from, but I couldn’t stop the words spewing from my mouth. “She wasn’t welcome at your house! Dad had to visit you by himself!”

  She raised her hand as if to smack me, but dropped it back down at her side as she took a step away from me. We were both shaking by then, my awful words hanging like a dark cloud above our heads.

  “I loved your mother, Calliope. As if she were my own child,” she told me quietly, her words thick with tears. “When your father brought her home, I couldn’t help but love her.”

  She sniffed quietly and started messing with the sink again as I leaned heavily against the counter.

  “She told me that my boys deserved what they got,” she whispered, never looking away from the bottom of the sink. “I knew she was hurting. We all were. But I couldn’t look at her after that. Every time I saw her, that’s what I thought of—those awful words she said to me after the funeral.”

  She was quiet for a few more moments before saying something that was so quiet, I had to strain to hear her. “I loved your mother, and I refused to see her for years. That’s my cross to bear.”