The Resolution of Callie & Kayden(45)

Me: What about your parents? Have u heard anything more?

It takes him a little while to answer. And by the time the text comes through, I’ve made it to the shelf with a small selection of staples on it.

Kayden: Yeah. Dylan talked to my mom a little bit yesterday. My dad’s in really bad shape. Not sure if he’s going to make it. My mother’s still not saying how he got there in the first place. But I found out they’re in North Carolina.

I’m shocked. Not going to make it? Oh my God, how do I even respond to that? Normally, I’d feel really sorry, but I know from the conversation I had with Kayden in the car, his feelings about all this are buried in confusion created by years of physical abuse.

Me: I’m so sorry. Do u want me to call u when I get out of the store?

I grab a box of staples and turn to leave the aisle, ready to get out of there so I can hear well enough to call Kayden and make sure he’s doing okay. I’m distracted by my phone, not paying attention to where I’m going, and I end up slamming into someone.

The box of staples and my phone slip from my fingers. ‘Shit,’ I curse, bending down to pick them up. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

The sound of the voice sends the hairs on the back of my neck on end. I haven’t heard that voice in over a year. It’s a voice I wish I’d never heard to begin with, wish to God I wasn’t hearing now.

‘Fuck,’ I mutter under my breath, scrambling to pick up my phone and the staples without looking at Caleb. He can’t be here. He can’t be here.

He just can’t.

But he is, something I painfully have to acknowledge after I collect my stuff and stand back up. He’s right in front of me, wearing that stupid look on his face, the one that says he thinks he has control over me.

But he doesn’t anymore.

I do.

‘What the f*ck are you doing here?’ I’m surprised at how steady my voice is. I make myself carry his gaze, but those dark eyes of his are still hard to look at it.

‘Wow, you’ve developed quite the mouth on you,’ he says. He looks rundown, bags under his eyes, holes in his jeans and the oversized coat he’s wearing nearly swallows his thin body. This isn’t the Caleb I used to know, but he still sends my heart racing with fear. ‘That’s two f*cks and a shit that’s left your lips in the last minute. The Callie I used to know couldn’t even say crap without getting flustered.’

‘The Callie you knew doesn’t exist anymore.’ I suck in a breath, feeling my heart trembling in my chest. ‘And honestly, you never really knew her.’

‘Didn’t I?’ His gaze flicks across my body. I’m not wearing anything revealing – jeans, a coat, and boots – but suddenly I feel like I’m standing in front of him with my Halloween costume on, vulnerable as if he’s seeing all of me. And it’s not for him to see. Ever again!

‘I’m leaving.’ I dodge to the side to swing around him. I’ll go find my dad and Jackson where I know I’ll be safe, and then call the cops. Caleb violated his probation when he skipped town after drug charges were pressed against him so he’s in trouble. I just wish it was for what he did to me.

Before I can skitter around him, he shuffles to the side and blocks my path. There are a couple of people nearby, but they’re too distracted by bright neon sale stickers to notice what’s going on. Or they’re just too afraid to do anything about it.

‘Relax, Callie. I just want to talk.’ His lips curl to a smirk, revealing the monster side of him. This is what he’s always done to me, tried to torture me and get under my skin just by looking at me. I think he actually enjoys seeing me panic, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of it like I used to.

Standing up straight, I turn to head in the opposite direction. However, things get brutally ugly as he snatches hold of my arm and his fingers dig through the fabric of my coat. A fire and a chill whirl through me simultaneously, the chill stemming from my fear, but the fire giving me anger, giving me strength.

Without even flinching, I whirl around and shove him back with the pent-up rage of the last seven years. ‘Don’t f*cking touch me.’ My voice is calm, but firm as he stumbles back in shock. I don’t wait for him to say anything because I don’t care what he has to say.

Nothing that he does matters.

He’s not part of my life anymore.

I’m in control.