Chapter 52
Callie
I lost my grip on Farrah as Cody came barreling down the stairs.
“What the f*ck?” he asked me, pulling me up as Farrah started scrambling toward Echo’s body, not even taking the time to stand.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back, watching as he ran toward the couple only a few feet away.
I should’ve been screaming. I should’ve been running for Echo the way Farrah and Cody were.
But I wasn’t. I was back in my crawlspace, and I knew not to make a sound. Instead, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Asa as I walked slowly to where my brother and Farrah were rolling Echo onto his back.
I wanted to scream at them that there was nothing they could do—that he deserved to keep a little of his dignity.
“Hey, Sugar,” Asa answered lazily, completely unaware of the scene unfolding before me.
“Asa,” I rasped, “I’m scared.”
“Talk to me, Callie!” he ordered, all complacency gone.
“There was a car,” I looked up the quiet street, but nothing was there. “Echo brought Farrah over.”
“You have to tell me what happened, sweetheart,” he prodded urgently.
“I don’t know,” I told him vaguely, the world becoming hazy as I watched Farrah push Cody’s hands away so she could kiss Echo sweetly on the lips.
“Calliope, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Is your brother there?”
“Yeah. He’s with Echo.”
“Give him the phone.”
“But his hands are all bloody…”
“Give your brother the phone!” he roared.
I lifted my phone in Cody’s direction, and he must have been watching me, because he grabbed it right away.
“Grease, f*ck! It’s bad, man,” he spoke into the phone softly, taking a few steps away from where Farrah and I were huddled over Echo.
The next few minutes felt like an eternity as we sat guard over Echo’s body. Farrah was still surprisingly silent, but she reached out and grabbed my hand as we waited. I wasn’t sure what we were waiting for, but the minute I heard the roar of multiple Harleys, my entire body sagged in relief.
As the men parked their bikes and came toward us, sirens began to fill the air.
“You call the cops?” a large biker I’d never seen before asked Cody.
“Nah,” he answered, pulling the phone away from his ear to gesture with it. “Grease. It was probably the neighbors.”
I watched the faces of the men around me as they took in the scene, and only a few were successful in maintaining their stoic expressions.
“You know who did it?” a man with tattoos on his face asked Farrah and me, kneeling next to Echo and pulling something out of the chest pocket of Echo’s shirt.
“No,” I answered, shaking my head a little.
“Good. That’s exactly what you tell the cops,” he told me ominously before standing back up and disappearing into the crowd.
I sat there in a daze as an ambulance pulled in with its lights flashing, and I didn’t move a muscle when two policemen ordered everyone to put their hands up.
They treated me like a threat, and as they took Echo away, I lay handcuffed, face down on the ground, less than a foot from his blood.
The rest of the day and into the night was a blur of giving statements and listening to apologies from weary policemen. They’d eventually uncuffed me, realizing that I was a victim, though I didn’t feel like one. I was just a bystander to something horrific that I was unable to talk about but would never forget.
Late that night, after the police had left the apartment and the place was quiet, Farrah finally spoke.
“I never thought that I could feel worse than the night I realized my mom would never love me,” she told me quietly. “I was wrong.”
“Things can always get worse,” I told her seriously.
“I don’t know what could be worse than this.”
“Me, either,” I answered, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.
We were quiet for a while, listening to Cody pace back and forth in the kitchen. After all of the trauma of the afternoon, there was nothing for us to do. There were no papers to sign, no questions to answer, just… nothing.
Eventually Farrah stood, pulling me with her, and headed toward the bathroom.
“We need to take a shower,” she told me flatly, pushing the door open and ushering me inside.
She stripped down to her underwear, throwing her clothes out the door as she took them off, while I turned on the water. I assumed she wanted me to stay with her, so I made no move to leave, but was surprised when she came over and started pulling at my t-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I asked curiously as I let her pull it over my head.
“You need to take a shower.”
“Okay, I’ll take one when you’re done,” I told her gently, trying to pull her fingers from the front of my jeans.
“You need to take one now,” she mumbled urgently, looking into my eyes. “You’ve got bloo—you’ve got bloo—you need to take off these clothes. You need to take a shower right now!”
I looked down in surprise, realizing for the first time that I was covered in dried blood.
“Okay, baby girl. I’ll take a shower now,” I answered her quietly, moving her hands so I could strip off my jeans. “Climb in.”
The shower ran red when we climbed inside, and Farrah kept her eyes pointed toward the ceiling as she grabbed my body wash and started scrubbing. We passed it back and forth, washing our arms and torsos until the half-full bottle was completely gone. Then we started on our hair.
Farrah was rinsing her hair for the second time when Asa walked into the bathroom and slowly pulled back the curtain. I could see the questions in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word as he reached out a hand to me.
“We need towels, baby,” I told him quietly, ignoring his hand.
“Okay,” he answered hoarsely, looking between Farrah and me before walking back out.
“Okay, Farrah, that’s enough,” I told her gently as she started to pick up the shampoo bottle. I reached behind her and turned off the water as her arms dropped down to her sides. I wrung out her hair while she stood quietly, her eyes vacant.
“Here’s your towels, Sugar,” Asa called, pulling open the curtain. “You need some help?”
“No, I’ve got her,” I assured him. “I’m going to get her into some clothes and then I’ll be out.”
“Okay,” he answered, searching my face as he put a hand on my wet cheek. “Call if you need me.”
I gave him a nod and turned back to Farrah, wrapping one of the towels around me and using the other to dry her off. I held her hand as I led her to my bedroom, but her grip was nonexistent.
“Farrah, I grabbed you some clothes,” I called out, rifling through my dresser for underwear and pajamas. When she didn’t answer, I turned to find her standing exactly where I’d left her in the middle of the room. “You want some pajamas?”
She was looking at me—aware of everything that was happening—but it was like her body had just stopped working, except for the tears running down her face.
“I’m going to help you into these, okay?” I asked, hoping she’d push me away and ask if I was a lesbian. “Okay, well if you don’t mind then neither do I,” I told her with a shrug of my shoulder.
I unwrapped the towel and ran it over her head once, but she was beginning to shiver, so I dropped it on the floor behind her and started stripping her. I unclasped her bra and pulled the straps down her shoulders, leaving it stuck to her breasts with water as I pulled the oversized sleep shirt over her head. When that part was done, I finished stripping off her bra and pulled her underwear down her legs, thankful she stepped out of them with little prompting.
When I’d just finished getting my smallest sweatpants over her hips, there was a small knock on the door. As I turned toward it, a familiar head popped through, taking in the scene before walking completely into the room.
“Gram,” I sighed in relief before rushing to her. “Did Cody call you?”
“Yep. Told me my baby needed me, so here I am,” she told me gently, kissing my forehead before turning to Farrah. “Get some clothes on, Callie Rose, you’re gonna catch a cold in that towel.”
I hurriedly threw one of Asa’s t-shirts and a pair of yoga pants on as I watched Gram lead Farrah to the bed. She’d grabbed my hairbrush off the dresser on the way over, and once Farrah was seated, she stood behind her and started brushing.
“Asa’s out there climbing the walls, Callie,” Gram informed me, running her fingers through Farrah’s hair. “I’ve got things handled in here.”
Oh, God. I’d forgotten how good it felt to have Gram take control of a situation.
“Thanks, Gram,” I told her quietly, walking out the door and shutting it quietly behind me.