“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!”
“That club has fed you and clothed you for four years, too,” I growled back, irritated as fuck.
“No. You supported me. They didn’t give shit to me,” she shot back, her face immediately smoothing out again. “And I don’t even need you to do it anymore.”
I stared at her, gaping. It was so much worse than I’d thought. I’d known she was pissed, but I’d had no idea how deep that shit went, and now I was fucked.
“Sugar, don’t do this,” I whispered, my entire life crumbling around me. I wanted to fucking shake her, to shove her down on the couch and prove that she was mine. But I couldn’t. She was the mother of my child, and she was breaking apart right in front of me.
“Will’s still sleeping,” she told me dismissively. “I know you have your phone, since I hooked it back up, so I’ll have Gram call you when he wakes up.”
“I’ll just stay until he does,” I answered, moving toward the couch.
“No. You won’t,” she commanded, shaking her head as she stood, the silky robe falling down her thighs in a way that made my mouth water. “I’ve been paying for this apartment for months, Asa. It’s no longer yours. Gram will call you when he wakes up and you can come for a visit—after that we’ll work something out.”
“You don’t want to do this, Callie,” I warned her, my muscles straining in frustration. “You don’t want me to leave.”
“I’ll probably cry,” she told me quietly, opening the door and motioning for me to walk through it. “I’ll probably weep and lie in bed for hours and feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest.” She searched my face as I reached up to touch her, but she pulled her head back before I could make contact. “But I won’t change my mind.”
Just like that, she completely shattered my fucking life.
Chapter 70
Callie
The minute Asa walked out the door, I wanted to take it all back.
I wanted to tell him that I’d just been angry, that I loved him and wanted him to hold me. It had been so long since he’d been able to just hold me without the threat of a time limit, or of it being thought inappropriate. I just needed him to fight for me, to tell me that the club wasn’t more important and that he would put Will and me first from then on.
I dropped onto the couch, stunned that he had actually left. When I realized I hadn’t heard his bike start yet, I jumped back up and ran to the front door. I raced to the landing and looked over to find him talking on his phone. I raced down the stairs barefoot, anxious to get to him before he left, and he didn’t notice as I came up only a few feet behind him.
“Bitch fuckin’ kicked me out,” he hissed to whoever he was talking to. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Nah, man. Take care of it for me, would you?”
I felt my nose start running even before tears hit my eyes, and thought vaguely that it was weird as I quietly backed away from him. I’d messed up. I’d gone too far, and even though that was my intention, I felt gutted.
I backed into the stairwell before he could hear me, and listened as he fired up his bike. Within moments he was gone, and the warm afternoon suddenly felt frigid in my tiny-ass robe. I made my way back to the apartment on silent feet and prayed that I hadn’t woken Will up when I’d thrown the door open. I didn’t know if I could handle being mommy, when I couldn’t even feel my hands. Why couldn’t I feel my hands?
I wasn’t in the house long, sitting on the couch where Asa’d found me earlier, when someone was knocking on the door. He came back! I was so relieved that I freaking ran to the door, my fingers fumbling with the locks until I got it open.
“Hey, remember me?” a voice called jovially. “I’m Grease’s brother Deke, we met once before.”
My entire body slumped when I realized Asa hadn’t come back, and then stiffened when I noticed how the man was watching me. I didn’t move from the doorway, but he used my surprise and disappointment against me as he slid past me and into the apartment.
“Seems like he would have hooked you up better than this,” he commented, shaking his head as he looked around the apartment.
“I’m sorry, I don’t really remember you,” I answered calmly as I placed myself between him and the hallway. “We’ve met?”
“Yeah, I was there the night Grease found you. Remember? I had a Mohawk then.” He was watching me intently, taking in my skimpy robe, and it creeped me out big time. There was something wrong with his eyes. His pupils were too large, his eyes sort of glassy and bloodshot at the same time.
“Yeah, I remember you now,” I told him with a fake laugh. “That night is sort of a blur.”
“I bet. Jose always had the good shit at his place,” he answered insensitively, as if I’d chosen to be drugged.
“Are you looking for Asa? He just ran to the store, he should be back pretty soon,” I lied through my teeth.
“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll just sit down and wait then.”
I watched him make himself comfortable on my couch as my stomach turned. Should I have told him that Asa wasn’t coming back? It seemed safer to lie and say that Asa would be there any second, but now he was acting like he wasn’t going to leave and I had no idea what to do.
“I’m going to go get dressed really quick,” I mumbled, watching him closely.
“No need to do that for me, I’m enjoying the view,” he leered, making my skin crawl.
I didn’t reply as I turned and made my way to Farrah’s bedroom. There was a basket of clothes from the Laundromat sitting on her floor, and I’d never been so glad that she refused to put anything away when it was her turn to do the laundry. I left the door open half an inch so I could hear what he was doing, and raced to pull on jeans and a two t-shirts. I didn’t have a fucking bra in there, but I wasn’t about to bring any attention to my room with Will sleeping inside.
I moved silently to Farrah’s dresser, one eye on the door as I pulled out her top drawer. The dresser was tall enough that Will couldn’t reach into it, and I breathed a sigh of relief as my hand wrapped around what I was looking for, hiding underneath a plethora of silk and lace underwear. The .45 was heavy in my hand as I checked the clip, finding six bullets. I was glad as hell that I’d found high-waist jeans in the laundry basket, because the thing was so big there was no way I could have hidden it at my back if I hadn’t.
I pulled my t-shirts down over the waistband of my jeans before swinging Farrah’s door open so I could slide through. He was still sitting on the couch when I got back to the living room, but his knee was bouncing in impatience.
“Can’t say the view’s any worse,” he commented mockingly as he looked at my braless breasts.
“Why don’t I just have Asa call you when he gets back?” I asked calmly, crossing my arms. “It’s been a long night and I’m not really up for company.”
r />
“Well, we both know he’s not coming back,” he answered, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “You kicked his ass out, right?”
My throat closed up as he stood from the couch, and my fight or flight instinct kicked in for just a second, but there was no choice.
My son was sleeping peacefully in the next room. I couldn’t go anywhere.
“If you knew he wasn’t coming, why are you here?”
“Came to get his son for him,” he told me sadly. “He didn’t want to deal with the inevitable drama, so he sent me instead. But I’m thinking… me and you can work something out. I’ll put in a good word for you and maybe he won’t take your kid…”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I hissed, my heart pounding in my ears.
“No can do, sweetheart,” he sneered. Asa’s endearment sounded like a curse coming from him, and it made me feel like a thousand ants were crawling all over my skin.
“He wouldn’t send you here,” I argued as he backed me into the kitchen. “You’re a goddamn druggie.”
He pulled back his hand, and I noticed a weird tattoo on it before he punched me in the face, sending me stumbling into the fridge.
“You just call me a druggie?” he growled menacingly, punching me in the stomach so hard I bent at the waist as my breath left me.
“Huh?” he asked, using one of my arms to spin me around and press my face against the freezer door.
“N-no,” I stuttered as he pulled my arm so far up my back that my shoulder was screaming in pain.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what I heard,” he whispered into my ear, yanking on my arm until I felt the searing pain of my shoulder dislocating. I bit through my cheek, trying not to scream, and felt blood pooling in my mouth.
He shoved me to the floor and kicked me twice in the ribs before he started pacing, mumbling under his breath to himself. I wasn’t sure what he was on, but he was acting fucking crazy, and I knew it was only a matter of time before things got a whole lot worse. I slowly pushed myself with my legs to the cabinet doors, using one arm to pull myself up to a sitting position while my other arm lay uselessly by my side.
When my back touched the cabinets, I hissed in pain, and my head started going fuzzy.
“You know, I fucking hate him!” he complained loudly. “He thinks he’s so much fucking better than me because he’s part of the Aces, and that’s just not true!” He walked around the kitchen as he spoke, waving his arms in the air. “All the Aces think they’re such hot shit! Acting like we’re nothing, sending piece of shit recruits down to shake us down for money—it’s insulting!”
His eyes dropped to me and I groaned as he kicked me hard in the thigh.
“So we send him into Jose’s to teach them a fucking lesson, and what happens?” He shook his head and started kicking my legs again between each word. “He—survives—it—and—kills—some—of—our—best—men!”
My legs were on fire as I whimpered and pulled them as close to my body as I could. He’d started to breathe heavily, and it scared me, because I could see in his face that he had no intention of stopping any time soon.
“You know, when we killed your parents, I thought for sure that they’d get the picture,” he told me softly, as if in apology. “I saw the way he looked at you, so I knew that using you was the answer, but when we showed up, you were nowhere to be found.”
I stopped breathing as the implications of his words sunk in. He’d been one of the men in my house. He’d been one of the guys searching for me.
“Your mama was one hot piece of ass. Mm mm mm,” he whispered. “Too bad I was searching for you and couldn’t take the time to appreciate it.”
I felt like I was in a tunnel, sinking into that place where nothing could hurt me and I could just float away like I had in the crawlspace. I wanted that place. I didn’t want to hear anything else he was saying, I didn’t want to know anymore.
I’d almost reached it, that place in my mind, when two things happened simultaneously.
He drew his foot back, kicking me hard in the stomach, pressing the small of my back into the cabinets, and I heard a small voice yell, “Mama! Door!” as little fists pounded from inside my bedroom.
His head turned sharply toward the hallway, listening, and I thanked God for the distraction as I used my good arm to pull the gun from the small of my back where I’d forgotten it. How could I have forgotten it?
I clicked off the safety with my thumb, and his head turned toward me as I racked the slide back against the edge of the cabinets.
“Get out of my house,” I warned him in a garbled voice, blood still pouring from my mouth as I pointed it at him.
My heart was racing with adrenaline, all the colors in the room sharp and vivid as he smiled menacingly and pulled his leg back again.
I didn’t hesitate and I didn’t think.
I just pulled the trigger, the gun recoiling so hard that it hit me in the face and broke my nose.
I was momentarily stunned by the impact, but he didn’t fucking drop. He just stumbled and came at me again, his eyes wide and crazy.
I shot him again, but he kept coming.
As if two shots in the chest were nothing but bee stings.
I screamed as he got close again and braced my arms as I emptied the entire clip into his chest, the last one hitting his throat as he stumbled back against the countertop, finally dropping to the floor.
Chapter 71
Gram
Farrah and I got home from a trip to my sister’s, eager to hear about the reunion. We’d left the day before so they could have a little time for themselves, but I wasn’t willing to stay gone for longer than that. I knew that those things rarely went how lovers envisioned them, and when I couldn’t reach Callie on her phone I’d decided to head north.
I didn’t know why I had such an awful feeling, things had seemed fine when we’d left, but I’d learned over the years to never ignore what my gut was telling me.
It was almost dark by the time we parked, and I was worried when I didn’t see Asa’s bike.
“Farrah, you see Asa’s bike parked at the curb?” I asked as I dragged my old bones out of the car. Those long trips were coming to an end for me soon if my sore body had anything to say about it.
“Nope. Looks like he isn’t here.”
We trudged up the stairs, and she headed to her apartment as I pushed the key in to unlock my door. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end, and I listened closely as I pushed the door open.
I hadn’t taken one step inside before Farrah’s terrified voice drifted through the night.
“Gram!”
I spun around, hitting my shoulder on the doorjamb before I hurried down the landing, cursing my old body for not letting me move faster. When I got to Callie’s door, I stopped abruptly.
Farrah was gaping at a dead man lying in a large pool of blood on the kitchen floor.
“Callie!” I whispered to myself, looking away from the dead man and making my way hurriedly through the apartment. “Where are you?”
I found her quickly, but I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I did.
I’ve seen a lot in my seventy-three years on this earth. I’ve stitched gaping cuts on my children and I’ve set my own arm after an incredibly bad fight with my husband. I’ve identified four of my children’s dead bodies, two from knife wounds and two from gunshot wounds. But nothing on this earth, no experience in my life, could have prepared me, or hurt as badly, as what I found in Callie’s bedroom.
She was sitting on the floor, and Farrah’s .45 was resting within her reach on top of the dresser, surrounded by bloody bullets and the cardboard box they came in.
Her face was almost unrecognizable, her nose and eye so swollen that the latter was completely closed, and she had blood all over her body. One of her arms was hanging at her side, and the other—
It was running through Will’s hair as he lay next to her, his head on her thigh.
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sp; For the first time in his life, the boy was completely still, lying on his side with one palm flattened near his face on Callie’s leg.
I covered my mouth in horror as I realized they were both covered in blood.
Dear God.
“Mama? Owie,” Will mumbled seriously, turning his head slightly so he could look at Callie’s face.
“Yeah, son. Mama has an owie,” she answered gently in a tone that indicated it was a conversation they’d had before.
“Will kiss,” he told her softly, turning his head so he could kiss her thigh before he settled back against her.
“Thanks, Will,” she commented, closing her good eye as she leaned her head against the wall behind her. “Mama feels so much better now.”
Chapter 72
Grease
I was sitting at a diner a few miles from Callie’s place, waiting for her phone call. I’d been imagining scenarios where she’d call and apologize and beg me to come back, and we could act like the past few hours had never happened.
I couldn’t believe she’d kicked me out—and I wasn’t sure how I should’ve reacted.
I went over it a thousand times in my head—different scenarios that may have worked to change her mind. If I’d fought harder, maybe she would have relented. Maybe she needed me to fight, needed that release that she used to look for when we hadn’t seen each other for months.
I’d pussed out, leaving instead, because it had been so goddamn long that I couldn’t read her like I’d been able to before. I hadn’t been able to tell if she was serious, or just pushing like she’d done a million times before.
Christ.
My phone vibrated next to my coffee on the table in front of me, flashing Rose’s number, and I snatched it up before the first ring was over.
“Callie?” I answered, hope and dread pooling in my gut.
“It’s Farrah,” came a monotone voice from the other end. “You need to get over here… and call your boys for a pick-up. We’re gonna need a cleaner.”