The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

last night and how she managed to calm me down and stop me from cutting. She might be right. On so many levels. “I think we should head back today… I don’t think I should have probably left in the first place… I kind of feel like I’m running away from everything.”
    She nods in agreement. “It might have been a bad idea.”
    “Not bad.” I inch my fingers between her legs, causing her breath to falter. “What happened last night…” I lower my voice as I dip my lips toward her ear and run my fingers across the back of her hand. I want to get as much Callie-time as possible, just in case this doesn’t end well, because in my world things generally don’t. It’s painful to think about, but realistic, and it could end up being reckless and damaging if I didn’t see this way. “What happened over and over again…” I slip my finger inside her and her body curves into mine. “… was in no way bad at all.” I kiss her cheek as her eyes gaze off. “It was amazing.”
    I start moving my finger until I drive her to the edge and she cries out my name. Then I slip my soaked boxers off and slide inside her, wanting every part of her, knowing that at any moment things can go wrong. But for once in my life, I hope they don’t. I hope everything goes okay. What that means, I’m not sure, but I want to find out.

Chapter 15
    #26 Face the inevitable, whatever the hell it is
Callie
    Bathtubs aren’t as gross as I thought. I’ve never been much of a bather. The idea of sitting in water and soaking in your own filth grosses me out. But after the bath with Kayden, I think I’ve had a change of heart. After we get out, we get dressed and then prepare ourselves to head out into the kitchen. It’s kind of scary, leaving the room. We’ve lived in this magical, safe bubble for the last fifteen hours and as soon as we step over the threshold it’s going to pop, especially when we tell Seth and Luke we have to go home early.
    I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pull my hair into a ponytail, and slip my shoes on. Kayden has on a plaid shirt, jeans, and boots. His hair’s a little damp and he had to take the bandage off because it got wet in the bathtub. The wounds beneath it aren’t healing and one of them looks fresh. He notices me staring at them as he rolls his sleeve down to cover them up.
    “I’m going to work on it,” he says with his head down as he buttons his sleeve. Pieces of his hair hang in his eyes and, unable to stop myself, I brush them away.
    “I can’t lose you.” I’m not one hundred percent sure why I say it other than I can’t stop thinking about him lying on the floor and how I felt when I thought he wasn’t going to make it. “I need you.”
    He seems to grow uncomfortable with my declaration, fidgeting with the bottom button on his shirt. It doesn’t matter, though. He needs to know. In fact, I think I’m going to tell him a lot just how much I need him and how great a person he is, because I don’t think he’s heard it that much.
    “You ready?” he asks, finally looking up from his shirt. He reaches for a rubber band on top of the dresser and slips it onto his wrist.
    I nod and open the door. “Seth’s not going to be happy we’re leaving.”
    “Yeah, Luke isn’t going to be either.” He winds around me. “But oh well.”
    I follow him out the door and down the hall into the kitchen. Seth and Luke are sitting at the table, looking exhausted: bags under their eyes, which are bloodshot, pale skin, and they look nauseous. Seth is dressed in cargo shorts and a gray polo, and his hair is stylishly tousled. Luke’s got a pair of striped pajama bottoms on and no shirt. I immediately feel uncomfortable at the sight of his bare chest with tattoos all over it. Some of my old feelings of shame and guilt begin to surface, so I hitch my finger through one of Kayden’s belt loops on the back of his jeans. I don’t know why I do it, other than holding onto him seems to have a serene effect on me.
    He glances over his shoulder at me, his emerald eyes glistening as he looks at me with concern. “Are you okay?”
    I nod, avoiding looking in Luke’s direction, biting at my nails. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
    He looks down at my finger in his belt loop, and then shrugs it off. I love him even more at that moment, especially when he swings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me up next to him as we stop near the counter, which is littered with beer bottles, ashes, and