The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

because he’s usually got Caleb attached to his hip. But there’s no one sitting in the passenger seat so I relax and let out a loud breath.
    “You coming?” Kayden asks, and I realize I’m standing in the middle of the driveway, staring at my brother.
    I hold up a finger, indicating I need a minute. “Just a sec.”
    He eyes me with worry in his green eyes. “Are you sure?”
    I nod as my brother climbs out of the car. He’s looking at me and I can’t read his stoic expression at all. “Yeah, I just need to talk to him.”
    Kayden nods and then he heads for the truck, passing Jackson along the way. They mutter a hello and then Kayden climbs inside. He never takes his eyes off me as I wander over to the steps and take a seat on the bottom stair, the light layer of frost on the cement seeping through the backside of my jeans.
    Jackson walks up to me with his hands stuffed into his plaid hooded jacket. His brown hair hangs over his ears and his sideburns look like they could use a trim. He rocks back on his heels, appearing apprehensive as he looks at me.
    “Look, Callie, I don’t even know what to say,” he starts. “I guess… I guess I’m sorry.”
    I’m a little shocked by his declaration and my gaze darts to the ground, my forehead creasing. “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
    He drops down on the steps and stretches out his legs in front of him and then crosses his ankles. He smells like cigarette smoke and booze. I didn’t even know he smoked, but then again, I don’t really know him, not really. Even when we were kids, we were kind of competitive, and then when the thing with Caleb happened any hope of a brotherly-sisterly bond shattered.
    “I turned him in,” he finally proclaims. His cheeks suck in as he inhales and then they puff back out as he releases a breath.
    “Thank you,” I say. “But the police won’t do anything. They really can’t. It’s been too long and it’s basically just his word against mine.”
    He shakes his head and rubs his hand across his stubbly jaw. “Not for that… I already knew that wouldn’t do any good.” His hand drops to his lap. “I turned him in for growing pot in his parents’ basement. I even told the police where he keeps his own stash.”
    I’m stunned. Speechless. Unsure. Happy. Amazed. Thankful. “So he’s… so he’s in jail?”
    “No, not yet.” He sighs heavily. “When mom told me about…” He clears his throat at the uneasiness of the topic. “About what happened to you, I was at a party with him. As soon as I confronted him, he totally fucking bailed on me before I could even get in a good swing. He didn’t even try to deny it.” His eyes glaze over as he recollects. “Anyway, he’s been dealing for a while, here and back home, so I thought I’d try to get him in trouble for something. If he ever shows up, he’ll be in deep shit. On top of growing, he had, like, five pounds stashed in his floorboards, which is considered drug trafficking.” A ghost smile rises on his face at the thought.
    “How did you know it was there? The weed?”
    “Let’s just say I took a lucky guess.”
    “Didn’t the police question you?”
    “I called in an anonymous tip.”
    I’m grateful, but also really sad. Warm tears force their way out from my eyes and I turn my head so he won’t see me cry. Kayden starts to open the door, but I shake my head and then shut my eyes as the tears stream out.
If
Caleb ever comes back, he’ll be in trouble.
If
not, he’ll roam around free. Regardless, my brother did this for me and I’ll be eternally grateful.
    “Thank you,” I whisper, wiping my tears away with the sleeve of my coat.
    “Don’t thank me,” he mutters and I detect a hint of guilt in his tone. “It doesn’t fix anything.”
    “It’s not your fault,” I say, drying off the last of the tears and then I look at him. “It’s not.”
    He doesn’t respond, instead rising to his feet. “But it kind of is, you know. I feel like we all kind of saw what we wanted to see and I blamed you all that time for making everyone in the family stressed.”
    I stand up too and brush the snow off the back of my jeans. “People generally do see what they want to see, but it doesn’t make them bad.”
    He presses his lips together and then runs his fingers through his overly long hair. “Yeah, I guess so.” He huffs out a breath and then blinks as he looks at me, changing the subject. “So are you headed back to