The house seems empty so I hurry up the stairway to my room and toss my clothes into the bag. Swinging it over my shoulder, I trot downstairs, feeling freedom waiting for me as the front door emerges into view. But my dad steps out from beneath the stairway, and stands at the bottom, blocking my path.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m wondering if it was the girl that made you act so stupid or if you’ve just gotten dumber since you went away to college? You never really were bright.”

My mind calculates my options. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stay here anymore. I just...” I tread down to the step below.

He inches to the side, getting in my path. “You have a workout to make up for.”

“No, I don’t,” I say, my palms sweating. This is the farthest I’ve ever pushed him. “I work out enough at school.” My foot moves down another step and I’m right in his face. “I’m going to go.”

He seizes my arm, squeezing it so firmly the skin burns. “You’re going to get your fucking ass in that God damn car and we’re going to go down to the field to work out. You will not push me anymore.”

I think of Callie sitting back at her house, waiting for me; actually worrying about me. No one has ever worried about me before. I jerk my arm out of his grip and shove my hands against his chest, shaking with the fear of a three-year-old. Taking the opportunity, I jump down the rest of the steps, but he regains his balance, and comes at me with his fists up and uncontrollable anger in his eyes.

“You fucking piece of shit!” he yells, taking a hit at my face.

I duck my head and his hand slams through the window of the front door, shattering the glass and splitting his knuckles. It doesn’t faze him and he rams another jab at me and his fist connects with my jaw. Bones pop and my ears ring.

“Fuck!” I clutch my face as pain explodes up my cheek, but I’m used to pain enough that I shake it off. For the first time in my life, I take a swing at him. My knuckles pop as he ducks and my hand smashes into the wooden banister.

Seconds later, I’m being tackled to the ground, his arms wrapping around me as he throws us both to the floor. Glass stabs through my shirt and into my muscles as I kick my father in the gut. He slides across the floor, bumping his head into the wall, and I throw my hands up in the air as I scramble to my feet.

“I’m done,” I say and before he can get up, I run out the door.

Luke is waiting in the truck with the engine running. I don’t look back until I’m safely in the cab and the door is shut. Luke’s eyes are bulging as he assesses the glass stuck in my skin, the tears in my shirt, and my cheek that’s swollen double its size.

“What the fuck?” he says. “He’s still doing that shit?”

I shake my head as my dad walks out onto the front porch, eyeing the truck. “Just drive. Take me to Callie’s. I don’t want to be here.”

He reverses the truck onto the main road and I support my injured hand against my chest, keeping my eyes on my father until he disappears out of my sight.

Callie

I can’t sit still. I keep sending him texts, but he won’t answer. My mom gave me a very long lecture about how worried she was that I was gone all night. I let her ramble on, wondering how concerned she’d be if I told her my secret.

After she’s finished, I wait for Kayden in my room above the garage. I feel sticky from last night, like alcohol is coming out of my pores, so I take a shower. Wrapping a towel around me, I comb my fingers through my hair and walk out into the bedroom to get dressed.

Kayden’s sitting on my bed with his back turned to me, his shoulders slouched over, and I leap back, surprised. “Oh.” I cover my mouth with my hand, stepping toward the door, embarrassed I’m only in a towel.

He turns his head to look at me, and I no longer care. His cheek is puffy and red, he has blood and slashes on his shirt, and his knuckles are coated with dry blood.

Securing the towel in a knot, I rush over to him. “What happened?”

He shakes his head, his eyes skimming my barely covered body. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s done.”

“What is?”

He holds his hand out toward me, which is trembling. “I tried to hit him and then I kicked him.”

“Your dad?” I ask. “Did he… are you okay?”

“I am now.” He grabs my hips, shuts his eyes and breathes through gritted teeth as he pulls me onto his lap. My lips part in protest as the bottom of the towel opens up and the roughness of his jeans touches my bare skin, but he rests his head on my shoulder and his body starts to tremble. I fasten my jaw shut, close my eyes, and smooth my hand over his hair, fighting back the tears.

I remain motionless, afraid to move, as he struggles for air. After what seems like hours, he lifts his head and his eyes are red.

“I’m sorry,” he says, blowing out a breath as he rubs the palm of his hand against his eye. “It all just caught up with me for a moment.”

“I understand completely,” I tell him and kiss his forehead.

His fingers seek my cheek and he traces a line across my birthmark on my temple. “I’ve never stood up to him before. It was fucking terrifying.”

He’s so much braver than me; standing up to something that’s haunted him since he was a kid. I envy him for it.

I lightly stroke his injured cheek and he flinches. “Do you want me to get you some ice? Bandages? Pain killers? My mom has a ton of them in her medicine cabinet.”

He crooks an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

I shrug. “I asked her once and she said they were from an old cheerleading injury back in high school.”

His eyebrows knit and his swollen eye closes. “Wasn’t that like twenty years ago?”

“She’s crazy,” I say, starting to climb off his lap. “Maybe that’s why she’s happy all the time.”

His fingertips press into my hips, securing me in place and there is panic in his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go.”

I know that look; the one that begs for someone to help them.

“Please help me, Mommy,” I whisper as I feel him shift above me and every single part of my body feels like it’s ripping in two. He covers my mouth with his hand roughly, and tears slip from my eyes. Where is she? Why doesn’t she come get me? Because she thinks I’m hiding, like the rest of the kids are. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, instead of dying on the inside, although part of me wishes I were dying on the outside too.

Please Mommy….

I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him as he burrows his face into my neck, resting his lips against my racing pulse. Shutting my eyes, I breathe through the moment; scared to death, but overwhelmingly wanting it. He kisses my neck slowly, relishing each touch, and my head drifts to the side.

“I’m going to go wash the blood off my hands,” he whispers and I lean away. “Just stay right here, okay?”

Gathering the bottom of the towel, I nod, and slide my legs off his lap. He gets up and heads to the bathroom while I lay down on the bed, knowing something’s about to happen. I can feel it in the air, in the warm sensation on my neck where he kissed me, and everywhere his hands touched me.

When he walks out of the bathroom, his shirt is off and he has a towel pressed to his broad chest. When he climbs on the bed, I sit up and lower his hand holding the towel so I can look at the cut. It’s deep and just across his upper rib; another scar to add to his already torn body. I run my finger up his forearms, noticing the fresh wounds on his skin.

“What happened with these?” I stop on a cut near his bicep and study it. “It looks like someone was cutting your skin.”

His fingers enclose around mine and he shakes his head, looking at the wall. “I’m fine. I promise, Callie. This is the stuff I can handle.”

I rise to my knees, feeling the towel open at the bottom, but don’t bother to close it. I graze my lips to his chest, inching up his neck along a jagged scar. I suck on his skin, run my tongue gently along it, and then engulf the softness of his lips. His head slants to the side and our mouths connect as his fingers envelop around my waist. He lures me closer to him, parting his lips and sucking my tongue into his mouth. I let out a groan as the overpowering emotions burst through me and possess me, erasing away the internal pain.

His fingers find the bottom of the towel, and he touches the bare skin of my waist. I can’t think straight as he feels my body, tastes my lips, and steals my torturous thoughts away momentarily. I sit up, pressing my chest against him and he shifts his weight, lying down on the bed. Our legs entwine and his knee slides between my thighs. The feel of the fabric of his jeans sends heat through my body that coils into my stomach.

“Kayden,” I moan against his lips as I dig my nails into his shoulder blades.

He inches his mouth away, breathing fitfully, his eyes assessing mine. “Do you want me to stop?"

I tighten my hold on him as I shake my head, my hair falling into my eyes. “No.”

Sucking in a breath, he crashes his lips against mine and the soft savoring kisses turn desperate as the towel unwraps from my body and I lie naked underneath him. My nipples stroke his chest with every breath and my legs fall open. My hands are on his cheeks and his warmth gives me reassurance as he reaches toward my arms and his fingers encircle my wrists. Leading my hands away from his face, he puts one on each side of my head as his tongue consumes my mouth.

Abruptly, he releases one of my arms and my body shivers beneath him. “Callie, let me know if I need to stop,” he breathes against my lips.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my heart restless, but sure. “I don’t ever want you to stop.”

His eyes open, wide and glossy, and he bites my bottom lip as his hand glides down my stomach. Seconds later, his fingers are inside me like they were yesterday. I feel high and lost but in the most amazing way. Like my mind finally left the dark place and I can grasp at the light again.

I want more. I need more, however I don’t know how to ask for it.

My hips rock against his hand as he feels me from the inside, groaning against my mouth as I drag my teeth along his lip, nipping at it before releasing it. Pieces of his brown hair brush across my forehead as I move my body, needing more. His chest is heaving, as he slips his fingers out of me.

“Callie, where’s the line?” he asks, returning his fingers to my wrist, holding me down beneath him, his eyes scanning mine. “I need to know where to stop.”

I shake my head from side to side, looking him in the eye. “I don’t want you to stop, Kayden. I said it and I mean it.”

His pupils contract as he processes what I said. “Callie, I…”

My heart slows as the moment starts to dissolve. Images of my past catch up, but then they swiftly vanish as he lifts his hips up to unbutton his jeans and kick them off. Seconds later he’s out of his clothes and has a condom on. He lies back on top of me, bare skin to bare skin, and he kisses me with passion, desire, everything, as he entangles our arms together above my head. My nerves mix with my anticipation and I feel every single aspect of the moment. The roughness of his skin on his palms, the smoothness of his chest as it touches mine, the wetness of his tongue inside my mouth, the tingling all over my body. Sweat beads my skin as my body heats with want and I open my legs up as his body forms with mine. When he inches into me, I feel the pain, but I also feel the invisible chains around my wrists break and shatter.