Will’s first birthday passed with little fanfare—Gram’s homemade pineapple upside-down cake, and a trip to the prison for a visit. That seemed to be our life in a nutshell.
Six months later, Farrah and I graduated from cosmetology school and found jobs in a little salon at the mall. The pay wasn’t great, but they let us make our own hours and we were always able to work together, which helped when my car died for good and we had to carpool until I could get a new one.
We were riding in my new car, a cheap used Toyota that was easy to finance, when Will said his first word. He’d been mumbling and saying Mama and Dada, Fawa and Gram for months, but it was the first word that wasn’t a name. He pointed out the window at the semi driving next to us on the freeway and said “truck” as if he’d always known how to say it.
I cried the entire way home, while I clapped and cheered him on, because I hadn’t brought my camera with us to the grocery store and Asa had missed it.
Some days I didn’t know how I would keep going without Asa, and others felt as if he’d never been there to begin with. I’d begin to feel as if I’d always lived without him, and it would scare me so much that I’d slide back into missing him to the point of madness. It was a cycle that repeated itself over and over again until I felt exhausted from it, but one thing was certain: there wasn’t a minute that I didn’t wish he were beside me.
Life passed slowly in some moments, and quickly in others, leaving a bittersweet sensation behind. As hard as I wished for time to pass quickly, I also begged it to slow down. I missed Asa, but Will was growing so fast that I could barely stand it.
And then, after twenty-five months of waiting, he was out.
Chapter 69
Grease
The air smelled fucking sweet on the outside.
The boys had brought my bike to the prison so I could drive it home, and I looked like an asshole in my fucking dress shirt, but I didn’t care. I was so glad to be going home to Callie that I would have ridden in a clown suit.
I had to stop by the club on my way out of town to get a couple changes of clothes and check in with Slider, but I was planning on hitting the road the moment I got my shit together. I couldn’t wait to see Callie, and my dick had been hard since the moment I sat down on my bike and knew for sure that I was out of there.
I promised Callie that I would head straight to her once I’d grabbed my shit—she’d been practically bursting with excitement for the last month as we waited for my release. I wondered if she’d have Will with her when I got there, or if she’d have Gram keep him so we could have a little time for ourselves first. I didn’t care either way—I couldn’t wait to see my son—but I was dying to be inside my woman again, too.
I’d worked it out so I could drive back and forth to Sacramento as long as I let someone know I was going, but I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to be making that drive for much longer. I was beyond ready to be living with Callie and Will full time, and I wasn’t going to deal with her putting that shit off. I’d waited four years for the chance to live with my woman and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.
When I pulled up to the club, the place was fucking packed. When I parked and climbed off my bike, I turned to Dragon to see what the fuck was going on, but before I could say a word a wall of noise came thundering out of the front doors. Boys were yelling and cheering, and even a few old ladies were fucking screaming and clapping their damn hands. It was embarrassing as all hell.
“Welcome home, boyo,” Poet told me merrily, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“What’s all this?” I asked with a smile, I couldn’t help it. He was swaying from side to side, taking me along with him, and I’d rarely seen him so plastered.
“It’s a welcome home party, obviously,” Vera called as she and Slider came to meet us. “It’s good to have you home.”
“Good to be back. Is Callie here?” I looked around the crowd, but couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Couldn’t get a hold of her,” Slider grumbled.
“What? I thought you were keeping an eye on her?”
“We have been. Kept boys on her since you been gone, but she doesn’t talk to any of them. Won’t answer calls, won’t answer the door—we did what we could.”
“Why the fuck didn’t someone tell me?” I snarled. “I’ve seen you once a month for two years!”
Vera’s face was sympathetic, but Slider and Poet were expressionless.
“Did what we had to, Asa,” Slider rumbled, his use of my real name startling me. “You didn’t need to worry about that shit. Knew she was coming to see you still—didn’t want to cause problems between the two of you when there wasn’t shit you could do about it. Didn’t want to take the chance that you’d stop getting those visits.”
I was fucking stunned.
I was also pissed as hell.
What the fuck was Callie’s deal?
“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 hi
m 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!”
“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.”
“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.