Текст книги "The Redemption of Callie and Kayden"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

Jessica Sorensen

For everyone who survived.

Acknowledgments

A huge thanks to my agent, Erica Silverman, and my editor,

Selina McLemore. I’m forever grateful for all your help and input.

And to everyone who reads this book, an endless amount of

thank-yous.

Prologue

Callie

I want to breathe.

I want to feel alive again.

I don’t want to feel the pain.

I want it all back, but it’s gone.

I hear every sound, every laugh, every cry. People move

around the room frantically, but I can’t take my eyes off the sliding glass doors. There’s a violent storm outside and rain is hammering

against the concrete, dirt, and dry leaves. Lights flash as

ambulances drive up under the port and the glow reflects off the

rain on the ground, red, like blood. Like Kayden’s blood. Like

Kayden’s blood all over the floor. So much blood.

My stomach is empty. My heart is hurting. I can’t move.

“Callie,” Seth says. “Callie, look at me.”

I take my gaze off the door and stare into his brown eyes

filled with worry. “Huh?”

He takes my hand in his and his skin is warm and comforting.

“He’s going to be okay.”

I stare at him, forcing back tears, because I have to be strong.

“Okay.”

He lets out a sigh and pats my hand. “You know what? I’m

going to go see if he can have visitors yet. It’s been almost a damn

week. You’d think they’d let him have visitors by now.” He gets up

from the chair and walks across the packed waiting room to the

receptionist’s desk.

He’ll be all right.

He has to be.

But in my heart, I know he won’t be all right. Sure, his

wounds and broken bones may heal on the outside. On the inside,

though, the healing will take longer, and I wonder what Kayden

will be like when I see him again. Who will he be?

Seth starts talking to the receptionist behind the counter, but

she barely gives him the time of day as she multitasks between

phone calls and the computer. It doesn’t matter, though. I know

what she’ll say—the same thing she’s been saying. That he can’t

have visitors, except for family. His family, the people who hurt

him. He doesn’t need his family.

“Callie.” Maci Owens’s voice rips me out of my daze. I blink

up at Kayden’s mother with a frown on my face. She’s dressed in a

pinstripe pencil skirt, her nails are done, and her hair is curled up into a huge bun on the top of her head. “Why are you here?” she

asks.

I almost ask her the same thing. “I came here to see Kayden.”

I sit up in the seat.

“Callie, honey.” She speaks like I’m a little kid, frowning as

she stares down at me. “Kayden can’t have visitors. I told you this a few days ago.”

“But I have to go back to school soon,” I say, gripping onto

the arms of the chair. “I need to see him before I go.”

She shakes her head and sits down in the chair next to me,

crossing her legs. “That’s not going to be possible.”

“Why not?” My voice comes out sharper than it ever has.

She glances around, worried I’m causing a scene. “Please

keep your voice down, honey.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to know that he’s okay,” I say. There’s

so much anger inside me. I’ve never been this angry before and I

don’t like it. “And I need to know what happened.”

“What happened is that Kayden’s sick,” she responds quietly

and then starts to get up.

“Wait.” I get up with her. “What do you mean he’s sick?”

She slants her head to the side and gives me her best sad

face, but all I can think about is how this is the woman who let

Kayden get beaten by his father for all those years. “Honey, I don’t

know how to tell you this, but Kayden injured himself.”

I shake my head as I back away from her. “No, he didn’t.”

Her face grows sadder and she looks like a plastic doll with

glassy eyes and a painted-on smile. “Honey, Kayden’s had a

problem with cutting for a very long time and this… well, we

thought he was getting better, but I guess we were wrong.”

“No, he doesn’t!” I scream. Actually scream. I’m shocked.

She’s shocked. Everyone in the crowded waiting room is shocked.

“And my name is Callie, not honey.”

Seth hurries up to me, his eyes wide and full of concern.

“Callie, are you okay?”

I glance at him, then at the people around the room. It’s

gone quiet and they’re staring at me. “I… I don’t know what’s

wrong with me.” I reel on my heels and run for the sliding glass

doors, bumping my elbows onto the trim when they don’t open

quickly enough. I keep running until I find a cluster of bushes

around the back of the hospital, and then I fall on my knees and

throw up all over the mud. My shoulders shake, my stomach

heaves, and tears sting at my eyes. When my stomach is empty, I

fall back on my heels and sit down in the wet dirt.

There’s no way Kayden could have done that to himself. But

deep down in the center of my heart, I keep thinking about all the

scars on his body and I can’t help but wonder: What if he did?

Kayden

I open my eyes and the first thing I see is light. It burns my

eyes and makes my surroundings distorted. I don’t know where I

am. What happened? Then I hear the deep voices, clanking, chaos.

There’s a machine beeping and it seems to match the beat of my

heart as it hits my chest, but it sounds too slow and uneven. My

body is cold—numb, like the inside of me.

“Kayden, can you hear me?” I hear my mom’s voice but I

can’t see her through the bright light.

“Kayden Owens, open your eyes,” she repeats until her voice

becomes a gnawing hum inside my head.

I open and close my eyelids repeatedly and then roll my eyes

back into my head. I blink again and the light turns into spots and

eventually into faces of people I don’t know, each of their

expressions filled with fear. I search through them, looking for only one person, but I don’t see her anywhere.

I unhitch my jaw and force my lips to move. “Callie.”

My mom appears above me. Her eyes are colder than I

expected and her lips are pursed. “Do you have any idea what you

put this family through? What is wrong with you? Don’t you value

your life?”

I glance at the doctors and nurses around my bed and

realize it’s not fear I’m seeing, but pity and annoyance. “What…”

My throat is dry like sand and I force my neck muscles to move as I

swallow several times. “What happened?” I start to remember:

blood, violence pain… wanting it to all end.

My mom puts her hands next to my head and leans over me.

“I thought we were over this problem. I thought you stopped.”

I tip my head to the side and glance down at my arm. My

wrist is bandaged up and my skin is white and mapped with blue

veins. There’s an IV attached to the back of my hand and a clip on

the end of my finger. I remember. Everything. I meet her eyes.

“Where’s dad?”

Her eyes narrow and her voice lowers as she leans in even

closer. “Gone on a business trip.”

I gape at her unfathomably. She’d never done anything

about the violence when I was growing up, but I guess I was kind

of hoping that maybe this would have pushed her to the end of

her secrecy and her need to always defend him. “He’s on a

business trip?” I say slowly.

A man in a white coat with a pen in his pocket, glasses, and

salt-and-pepper hair says something to my mom and then he exits

the room carrying a clipboard. A nurse walks over to a beeping

machine beside my bed and starts writing down stuff in my chart.

My mother leans in closer, casting a shadow over me, and

whispers in a low tone that conveys a lot of warning, “Your father’s

not going to have any part of this. The doctors know you cut your

own wrists and the town knows you beat up Caleb. You’re not in a

good place right now and you’re going to be in a worse place if

you try to bring your father into this.” She leans back a little and

for the first time I realize how large her pupils are. There’s barely any color left except for a small ring around the edge. She looks

possessed, by the devil maybe, or my father—but they’re kind of

one and the same.

“You’re going to be all right,” she says. “All the injuries

missed anything major. You lost a lot of blood, but they gave you

a blood transfusion.”

I press my hands to the bed, trying to sit up, but my body is

heavy and my limbs weak. “How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been in and out for a couple of days now. But the

doctors say that’s normal.” She starts tucking the blanket in around

me, like I’m suddenly her child. “What they’re more worried about

is why you cut yourself.”

I could have yelled it—screamed to the world that it wasn’t

all me. That it was my dad, that he and I had both done the

damage. But as I glance around the room, I realize there’s no one

here who really cares. I’m alone. I did cut myself. And for a second

I kind of hoped it would be my end. That all the pain and hate and

feelings of being worthless would finally, after nineteen years, be

gone.

She pats my leg. “All right, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

I don’t say anything. I just roll over and seal my eyes and

mouth and let myself go back into the comfort of the darkness I’d

just woken up from. Because right now, it’s better than being in

the light.

Chapter 1

#62 Don’t break apart

Callie

I spend a lot of time writing in my notebook. It’s like therapy

for me almost. It’s extremely late in the night and I’m wide awake,

dreading going back to campus tomorrow morning and leaving

Kayden behind. How am I supposed to just leave him, bail out,

move on? Everyone keeps telling me that I have to, like it’s as

simple as picking out an outfit. I was never good at picking out

outfits, though.

I’m in the room above the garage, alone, tucked away in the

solitude with only my pen and notebook for company. I sigh as I

stare at the moon and then let my hand move across the paper

almost on its own accord.

I can’t get the image out of my mind, no matter how hard I

try. Every time I close my eyes, I see Kayden, lying on the floor.

Blood covers his body, the floor, the cracks in the tile, and the

knives that surround him. He’s broken, bleeding, cracked to pieces.

To some people he probably seems like he can’t be repaired. But I

can’t think that.

I was once shattered to pieces, destroyed by the hand of

another, but now I feel like I’m beginning to reconnect. Or at least I did feel that way. But when I found Kayden on the floor it felt like

part of me splintered again. And more of me broke when his

mother told me he did it to himself. He cut himself and has

probably been doing it for years.

I don’t believe it.

I can’t believe it. Not when I know about his dad.

I just can’t.

My hand stops and I wait for more to come. But that’s all I

seem to need to write. I lie down in the bed and stare at the moon,

wondering how I’m supposed to move forward in life when

everything important to me is motionless.

* * *

“Wipe that sad frown off your face, Missy.” Seth is holding

my arm as we walk across the campus yard. It’s cold. Rain is

drizzling from the gloomy clouds and the sidewalks are covered in

murky puddles. There’s practically a river running off the rooftops

of the historic buildings that enclose the campus. The grass is

sloshy beneath my sneakers and the icky weather matches my

mood. People are running to and from class and I just want to yell,

Slow down and wait for the world to catch up!

“I’m trying,” I tell him, but my frown still remains. It’s the

same frown that’s been on my face since I found Kayden a little

over a couple of weeks ago. The images hurt my mind and my

heart like shards of glass. I know part of this is my fault. I’m the

one who let Kayden find out about Caleb. I barely even tried to

deny it when he’d asked me. Part of me had wanted him to find

out and part of me was glad when Luke had told me Kayden had

beat up Caleb.

He nudges me with his elbow and constricts his grip when I

trip over my feet and stumble to the side. “Callie, you need to stop

worrying all the time.” He helps me get my balance. “I know it’s

hard, but always being sad isn’t a good thing. I don’t want you

going back to the sad girl I first met.”

I stop in my tracks and step right into a puddle. The cold

water fills my shoes and soaks through my socks. “Seth, I’m not

going back to that.” I slip my arm out of his and wrap my jacket

tightly around myself. “I just can’t stop thinking about him… how

he looked. It’s stuck in my head.” It’s always in my mind. I didn’t

want to leave Afton, but my mom threatened me, saying if I failed

the semester she wasn’t going to let me stay at the house for

Christmas break. I’d have nowhere to go. “I just miss him and I feel

bad for leaving him there with his family.”

“It wouldn’t have matter if you had stayed. They still won’t let

you see him.” Seth brushes his golden blond hair out of his honey

brown eyes and looks at me sympathetically as rain drips down on

his head and face. “Callie, I know it’s hard, especially when they

said he did it to… when he did it to himself. But you can’t break

apart.”

“I’m not breaking apart.” The drizzle of rain suddenly shifts to

a downpour and we sprint for the shelter of the trees, shielding

our faces with our arms. I tuck damp strands of my brown hair out

of my face and behind my ears. “I just can’t stop thinking about

him.” I sigh, wiping away the rain from my face. “Besides, I don’t

believe that he did it to himself.”

His shoulders slump as he pulls down the sleeves of his black

button-down jacket. “Callie, I hate to say it but… but what if he

did? I know it could have been his dad, but what if it wasn’t? What

if the doctors are right? I mean, they did send him to that facility

for a reason.”

Raindrops bead down our faces and my eyelashes flutter

against them. “Then he did,” I say. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Everyone has secrets, just like me. I’d be a hypocrite if I judge

Kayden for self-infliction. “Besides, they didn’t send him. The

hospital transferred him there so he could be watched while he

heals. That’s all. He doesn’t have to stay there.”

Seth offers me a sympathetic smile, but there’s pity in his

eyes. He leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I

know, and that’s why you’re you.” He moves back from me, turns

to his side, and aims his elbow at me. “Now come on, we’re going

to be late for class.”

Sighing, I link elbows with him and we step out into the rain,

taking our time as we head to class.

“Maybe we could do something fun,” Seth suggests as he

opens the door to the main building on campus. He guides me

into the warmth and lets the door slam shut behind us. He releases

my arm and shakes the front of his jacket, sending raindrops

everywhere. “Like we could go to a movie or something. You’ve

been dying to see that one…” He snaps his fingers a few times. “I

can’t remember what it’s called, but you kept talking about it

before break.”

I shrug, grabbing my ponytail and giving it a good wringing

so the water drips out of the end. “I can’t remember either. And I

don’t really feel like seeing a movie.”

He frowns. “You need to quit sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” I say and massage my hand over my heart.

“My heart just hurts all the time.”

His shoulders lift and descend as he sighs. “Callie, I—”

I raise my hand and shake my head. “Seth, I know you always

want to help me out and I love you for that, but sometimes hurting

is just part of life, especially when someone I lo—care about is

hurting too.”

He arches his eyebrows because of my almost-slip. “Okay

then, let’s go to class.”

I nod and follow him up the hall. My clothes are wet from the

rain and there’s water in my shoes. Even though it’s cold and the

water sticks my clothes to my body, it reminds me of a beautiful

time full of magical kisses and I need to hold onto that.

Because for now, it’s all I’ve got.

* * *

Time drags on. Classes are ending, wrapping up for winter

break. I’ve been staring at my English book for so long it feels like my eyes are bleeding and the words look identical. I rub my eyes

with my fingertips, pretending like the room doesn’t smell like pot

and that Violet, my roommate, isn’t passed out in the bed across

from mine. She’s been like that for the last ten hours. I’d be

worried she was dead, but she keeps muttering incoherently in her

sleep.

On top of studying for the English exam, I’m supposed to be

writing an essay. I joined a creative writing club at the beginning of the year, and at the end of it, I’m supposed to turn in three

projects: a poem, a short story, and a nonfiction piece. As much as

I love to write, I’m struggling with the idea of putting truth down

on paper for other people to read. I’m afraid of what might come

out if I really open up. Or maybe it’s because it seems silly to write a paper about the truth of life when Kayden’s in an institution

living the truth. All I’ve typed so far is: Where the Leaves Go by

Callie Lawrence. I’m uncertain of where I’ll go with this.

The rain from earlier has frozen into fluffy snowflakes that

sail from the sky and a silvery sheet of ice glistens across the

campus yard. I tap my fingers on the top of my book, thinking

about home and how there’s probably three or four feet of snow

and how my mom’s car is probably stuck in the driveway. I can

picture the snowplow roaming the town’s streets, and my dad

doing warm-ups inside the gym because it’s too cold to be

outside. And Kayden is still in the hospital under supervision

because they think he tried to kill himself. It’s been a few weeks

since it happened. He was out of it for quite a while from the

blood transfusion and lacerations to his body. Then he woke up

and no one could see him because he’s considered “high risk” and

“under surveillance” (Kayden’s mother’s words, not mine).

My phone is sitting on my bed next to a pile of study sheets

and an array of highlighters. I pick it up, dial Kayden’s number, and wait for his voicemail message to come on.

“Hey, this is Kayden, I’m way too busy to take your call right

now, so please leave a message and maybe you’ll be lucky enough

that I’ll call you back.” There’s sarcasm in his voice like he thinks he’s being funny and I smile, missing him so badly it pierces my

heart.

I listen to it over and over again until I can hear the

underlying pain in his sarcasm, the one that carries his secrets.

Eventually, I hang up and flop back on my bed, wishing I could

travel back in time and not let Kayden find out that it was Caleb

who raped me.

“God, what time is it?” Violet sits up in her bed and blinks her

bloodshot eyes at the leather-band watch on her wrist. She shakes

her head and gathers her black-and-red-streaked hair out of her

face. She gazes out the window at the snow and then looks at me.

“How long have I been out?”

I shrug, staring up at the ceiling. “I think, like, ten hours?”

She throws the blanket off herself and climbs out of bed.

“Fuck, I missed my chemistry class.”

“You take chemistry?” I don’t mean for it to sound so rude,

but the shock of her taking chemistry comes through in my voice.

Violet and I have shared a room for three months, and from what I

can tell, she likes to party and she likes guys.

She gives me a dirty look as she slips her arm through the

sleeve of her leather jacket. “What? You don’t think I can party and

be smart?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just—”

“I know what you meant—what you think of me, and

everyone else thinks of me.” She snatches her bag from the desk,

sniffs her shirt, and shrugs. “But some advice: Maybe you shouldn’t

judge people by their looks.”

“I don’t,” I tell her, feeling bad. “I’m sorry if you think I judged

you.”

She collects her phone from the desk and tosses it into her

bag, then heads for the door. “Listen, if some guy named Jesse

comes by, can you pretend that you haven’t seen me all day?”

“Why?” I ask, sitting up.

“Because I don’t want him to know I’ve been here.” She

opens the door and glances back over her shoulder. “God, you’ve

been a little snippy lately. When I first met you, I thought you were like a doormat. But lately, you’ve been kind of cranky.”

“I know,” I say quietly, with my chin tucked down. “And I’m

sorry. I’ve just been having a rough few weeks.”

She pauses in the doorway, eyeing me over. “Are you…” She

shifts her weight, looking uncomfortable. Whatever she’s trying to

say seems to be hard for her. “Are you okay?”

I nod and something crosses over her face, maybe pain, and

for a second I wonder if Violet’s okay. But then she shrugs and

walks out, slamming the door behind her. I release a loud breath

and lie back down on the bed. The need to shove my finger down

my throat and free the heavy, foul feelings in my stomach

strangles me. Damn it. I need therapy. I reach for my phone

without sitting up and dial my therapist’s number, aka Seth, and

my best friend in the whole world.

“I love you to death, Callie,” Seth says as he answers after

three rings. “But I think I’m about to get lucky so this better be

important.”

I scrunch my nose as my cheeks heat. “It’s not… I just wanted

to see what was up. But if you’re busy, I’ll let you go.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry, that came out a lot ruder than I planned.

If you really need me, I can totally talk. You know you’re my first

priority.”

“Are you with Greyson?” I ask.

“Of course,” he replies with humor in his tone. “I’m not a

man-whore skank.”

A giggle slips through my lips and I’m amazed how much

better I feel just from talking to him. “I promise I’m fine. I’m just bored and was looking for an escape from my English book.” I

shove the book off the bed and roll onto my stomach, propping

myself up onto my elbows. “I’ll let you go.”

“Are you really, really sure?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure. Now go have fun.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m planning on it,” he replies and I laugh, but

it hurts my stomach. I start to hang up when he adds, “Callie, if you need to hang out with someone, you could call Luke… You two are

kind of going through the same thing. I mean, with missing

Kayden and not really understanding.”

I bite at my fingernails. I’ve spent time with Luke, but I’m still

uncomfortable being alone with guys, except for Seth. Besides,

things are weird between Luke and me because we haven’t

officially talked about what happened at Kayden’s. It’s the white

elephant in the room, the massive, sad, heartbroken elephant. “I’ll

think about it.”

“Good. And if you do, make sure to ask him about yesterday

in Professor McGellon’s class.”

“Why? What happened?”

He giggles mischievously. “Just ask him.”

“Okay…” I say, unsure if I really want to. If Seth thinks it’s

funny then there’s a good chance that whatever happened might

embarrass me. “Have fun with Greyson.”

“You too, baby girl,” he says and hangs up.

I hit END and scroll through my contacts until I reach Luke’s

number. My finger hovers over the DIAL button for an eternity and

then I chicken out and drop the phone down onto the bed. I get

up and slip on my Converses—the ones stained with the green

paint—because they remind me of a happy time in life. I zip up my

jacket, put my phone into the pocket, and collect my keycard and

journal before heading outside.

It’s colder than a freezer, but I walk aimlessly through the

vacant campus before finally taking a seat on one of the frosted

benches. It’s snowing but the tree branches create a canopy above

my head. I open my journal, pull the top of my jacket over my

nose, and begin to scribble down my thoughts, pouring out my

heart and soul to blank sheets of paper because it’s therapeutic.

I remember my sixteenth birthday like I remember how to

add. It’s there locked away in my head whenever I need it,

although I don’t use it often. It was the day I learned to drive. My

mom had always been really weird about letting my brother and

me anywhere near the wheel of a vehicle until we were old enough

to drive. She said it was to protect us from ourselves and other

drivers. I remember thinking how strange it was, her wanting to

protect us, because there were so many things—huge,

life-changing things—she’d never protected us from. Like the fact

that my brother had been smoking pot since he was fourteen. Or

the fact that Caleb raped me in my own room when I was twelve.

Deep down, I knew it wasn’t her fault, but the thought always

crossed my mind: Why hadn’t she protected me?

So at sixteen, I finally got behind the driver’s seat for the very

first time. I was terrified and my palms were sweating so badly I

could barely hold onto the wheel. My dad had also had a lifted

truck and I could barely see over the dash.

“Can’t we please just drive mom’s car?” I asked my dad as I

turned the key in the ignition.

He buckled his seat belt and shook his head. “It’s better to

learn on the big dog first, that way driving the car will be a piece of cake.”

I buckled my own seat belt and wiped my sweaty palms on

the front of my jeans. “Yeah, but I can barely see over the wheel.”

He smiled and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Callie, I know

driving is scary, like life. But you’re perfectly capable of handling this; otherwise I wouldn’t let you.”

I almost broke down and told him what happened to me on

my twelfth birthday. I almost told him that I couldn’t handle it. That I couldn’t handle anything. But fear owned me and I pressed on

the gas and drove the truck forward.

I ended up running over the neighbor’s mailbox and proving

my dad wrong. I wasn’t allowed to drive for the next few months

and I was glad. Because to me driving meant growing up and I

didn’t want to grow up. I wanted to be a child. I wanted to be

twelve years old and still have the excitement of life and boys and

kisses and crushes ahead of me.

“Fuck, it’s freezing out here.”

My head snaps up at the sound of Luke’s voice and I quickly

shut my journal. He’s standing a few feet away from me with his

hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and the hood of his

dark blue jacket tugged over his head.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, sliding my pen into the

spiral of the notebook.

His shoulders rise and fall as he shrugs and then he sits

down beside me. He stretches his legs out in front of himself and

crosses his ankles. “I got a random call from Seth telling me that I

should come out here and check up on you. That you might need

to be cheered up.”

My gaze sweeps the campus yard. “Sometimes I wonder if he

has spy cameras all over the place. He seems to know everything,

you know.”

Luke nods in agreement. “He does, doesn’t he.”

I return his nod and then it grows quiet. Snowflakes drift

down and our breath laces in front of our faces. I wonder why he’s

really here. Did Seth tell him I needed to be watched?

“You want to go somewhere?” Luke uncrosses his ankles and

sits up straight. “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a

break from this place.”

“Yeah.” I don’t even hesitate, which surprises me. Does that

mean I’m getting over my trust issues?

He smiles genuinely, but there’s intensity in his eyes;

something that’s always there. I used to be intimidated by it, but

now I know it’s just him. Besides, I think he hides behind it—maybe

fear, loneliness, or the pain of life.

I tuck my notebook underneath my arm and we get to our

feet. We hike across the campus yard, heading toward the

unknown, but I guess that’s okay for now. I’ll know where I’m

going when I get there.