Chapter 45
Callie
I lay in bed with Farrah after she’d cried herself to sleep, but I couldn’t shut down my brain.
I was guilty—as guilty as the guys talking quietly in my living room. I’d noticed something was wrong with Farrah. I’d seen all the signs, but I hadn’t pressed her for information because I’d believed that my life was so incredibly difficult that I couldn’t handle her issues, too.
When I’d been screaming at Echo, I was also screaming at myself.
I should have done something.
I watched Farrah’s chest rise and fall as I thought about how the guys had thought they’d handled things and how I felt about Asa’s commiserating words. He’d acted like what they’d done was normal—that they were completely justified in keeping things quiet and not even going to the police.
I knew that Asa’s world was different than the world everyone else lived in. I’d known it from the moment he walked brashly into the party where I’d met him. Everything he did was a testament to how he lived his life, from taking in a girl of sixteen to the tattoos that were slowly working their way up his neck.
So what he’d said wasn’t surprising—not really. It was apparent that they lived under a code that I could never understand; I just hadn’t seen the ugliness of that code until that night. Asa was still the same man I ran to if things were bad, the same person I called if I had good news, and even as I lay there in bed, I ached to touch him after being away from him for so long.
I had to make a decision, and I had no idea how I’d do that. If I chose to overlook what I’d heard in the kitchen, I felt like I was condoning their decision to leave Farrah to the wolves, but if I left Asa, I didn’t think I would survive it.
When Farrah woke up late the next morning, she practically made the decision for me.
“Hey, Callie?” she called sleepily from the bed. “Can you go get Echo for me?”
I looked at her in confusion, but when she pushed herself up as if to get him herself, I scrambled out of the room. Asa wasn’t in the apartment when I made my way to the kitchen, but Echo was. I nodded my head toward the bedroom, taking in his dirty clothes and messy hair before turning away as he left the room. I never found out what they said that day, and it really wasn’t any of my business—but when I went to check on Farrah two hours later, the two were cuddled in the middle of the bed with Farrah tucked gently against Echo’s chest.
Asa showed up after I’d showered and made myself lunch, and I had to force myself not to look at him as he grabbed a beer out of our fridge.
“You ignoring me?” he grumbled quietly, his tone implying that I was being unreasonable.
“Not ignoring you, just don’t have anything to say,” I replied, never looking his way.
“Yeah, okay,” he scoffed, and my head snapped up in irritation. “Ah, there’s my girl.”
“I can’t believe you said that last night!” I growled quietly, hoping to keep our conversation from Echo and Farrah. “He f*cked up, badly!”
“Yeah, Sugar. I know that,” he told me with a nod, moving forward to wrap his arms around my stiff body. “But those thoughts aren’t gonna help anyone. He f*cked up, it’s over. Man’s gotta get his head in the game—that girl in there needs him to be a man, not some p-ssy that can’t get over the guilt he’s feeling. She needs him to take care of shit—and there wasn’t any way he was gonna be able to do that acting like he was last night.”
I let his words sink in, deciding that they made a weird sort of sense.
“But what was that shit about respect?” I asked incredulously. “You really believe that?”
He sighed and was quiet for a minute before meeting my eyes. “I have never in my life agreed with a man putting his hands on a woman. I stop that shit when I can, and it burns me when I can’t. But the club has a set of rules, Callie,” he told me while I rolled my eyes. “No, don’t do that shit. Let me finish. We have our own laws that we live by, that we choose to live by when we decide to become a part of this life. If we didn’t, shit would be anarchy—brothers ratting each other out, stabbing each other in the back—no loyalty. You understand what I’m telling you?”
“I understand the words coming out of your mouth, but it still sounds like bullshit,” I answered petulantly, crossing my arms over my chest.
He huffed in amusement. “It may sound like bullshit to you, but it’s the way we survive. Echo beating the shit outta Gator could have got him in deep shit. He’s got no claim on her.”
“But they’ve been together for like a year!”
“Yeah, Sugar, but he never claimed her. Farrah didn’t want that shit—told Echo that she didn’t want that life.” He shook his head. “His hands were tied.”
“Okay,” I replied softly, trying to process his words, “but what happens now?”
“I made some calls. Knew Farrah’s mom sounded familiar, couldn’t remember how. I remember now.” He raised his hand to my face. “Farrah’s dad is on his way here, Calliope. You need to brace because shit is gonna get worse before it gets better.”
My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head at his revelation, and I opened my mouth and closed it again before I could find my tongue.
“What? She doesn’t even know who her dad is! Why would you do that?” I gasped, scared as hell at what Farrah’s reaction would be.
“Sugar, Echo’s hands are tied.” He leaned down and gave me a fierce kiss before raising his head again. “Slider’s hands are not.”