Read The Redemption of Callie & Kayden for Free Online Page B

looks perplexed as he reclines in his chair and slips off his glasses. “Feeling emotions? Or the pain in life?”
    Fuck. Maybe he does get it. “Both I guess.”
    Rain slashes against the window. It’s weird that it’s raining instead of snowing and by morning the ground is going to be a sloshy mess.
    He cleans the lenses of his glasses with the bottom of his shirt and then slips them back on his nose. “Do you ever let yourself feel what’s inside you?”
    I consider what he said for a very long time. Sirens shriek outside and somewhere in the halls a person is crying. “I’m not sure… maybe… not always.”
    “And why is that?” he asks.
    I think back to all the kicks, the punches, the screaming, and how eventually I just drowned it all out, shut down, and died inside. “Because it’s too much.” It’s a simple answer, but each word conveys more meaning than anything I’ve ever said. It’s fucking strange to talk about it aloud. The only person I’ve ever said anything to was Callie and I sugarcoated it for her, to keep her from seeing how ugly and fucked up I am on the inside.
    He removes a pen from the pocket of his jacket and his hand swiftly moves across the paper as he scribbles down some notes. “And what do you do when it becomes too much?”
    I slide my finger under the rubber band and give it a flick, then do it again harder. It breaks again and I shake my head as I catch the pieces in my hand. “I think you know what I do, which is why I keep breaking these damn rubber bands.”
    He chews on the end of his pen as he evaluates me. “Let’s talk about the night you got in a fight.”
    “I already told you about that night a thousand times.”
    “No, you told me what happened that night in your own words, but you’ve never explained to me how you felt when you were making your decision. And emotions always play a large part in the things we do.”
    “I’m not a fan of them,” I admit, slouching back in the chair.
    “I know that,” he responds confidently. “And I’d like to get to the bottom of why.”
    “No, you wouldn’t,” I tell him, dragging my nail up the inside of my palm to soothe the accelerating beat of my heart. “No one wants to hear about that. Trust me.”
    He drops the pen on top of the notebook that’s on his lap. “Why would you think that?”
    “Because it’s true.” I stab my nails deeper into my skin until I feel the warmth and comfort of blood. “I’m nineteen years old and everything that’s done is done. There’s no point in trying to save me. Who I am and what I do is always going to be.”
    “I’m not trying to save you,” he promises. “I’m trying to heal you.”
    I run my finger along a thin scar on the palm of my hand that was put there when my dad cut me with a shard of glass. “What? Heal these? I’m pretty fucking sure they’re not going anywhere.”
    He positions his hand over his heart. “I want to heal what’s in here.”
    Usually I bail on these situations. Otherwise I’ll end up feeling things I don’t want to, and then I have to take it out on my body just to cope. But I can’t here. They won’t let me anywhere near anything sharp, especially razors. My jawline and chin are extremely scruffy because I haven’t shaved in a week.
    “This is getting way too heart-to-heart for me,” I say and grab onto the sides of the chair to push myself up.
    He holds up his hand, signaling for me to sit back down. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about your feelings, but I want you to answer one thing for me.”
    I stare blankly at him as I lower myself back into the chair. “That depends on what that one thing is.”
    He taps the pen against the notebooks as he deliberates. “Why did you go to the party that night?”
    “It’s always the same question with you.”
    “Because it’s an important question.”
    I shake my head as my pulse speeds up with either anger or fear—I can’t tell. “I went there to beat Caleb Miller up.