Chapter 5.

Brandon grunted as he rolled off Callie. Immediately, she missed his body heat, and curled up at his side. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, stroking her hair.

She craned her neck and kissed him soundly on the lips, tracing his happy trail with her fingertip. For some reason, that strip of hair drove her crazy.

"Have you thought any more about us? You know, being together?" he asked quietly.

"We were just together a few minutes ago," she whispered, resting her hand on his chest. Avoiding straight-forward answers to questions was a skill she had mastered long ago.

He laughed a little. "I don't mean that way," he told her. "I mean, as a couple."

"I don't want to discuss this right now," she sighed. "Please?"

"Okay," he nodded. "I won't force you." He pulled her closer, and smashed his lips against hers. Then, he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Callie squeezed her eyes shut, as Brandon's eyes wandered over her inner-wrist. "Callie... what happened here?" He touched her scars carefully, never tearing his eyes away from them.

Panic rose in Callie's throat; Brandon had seen, and now he knew exactly how screwed up she was.

"None of your business!" she snapped, a little harsher than intended. She slid out of bed, wrapping the white sheet around herself, and hurried into the bathroom.

Once she was inside, she turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on her hot face. She wished the floor would open up and suck her in.

Brandon came into the bathroom and stood behind her. "Callie," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back. "It doesn't bother me. I was just worried about you."

"You don't have to worry about me," she told him. "I'm fine."

"Did you do that?" he asked. "Cut yourself, I mean?" He sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

Reluctantly, Callie sat down beside him. "Yes," she admitted. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "But it was a long time ago."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he reached out, cupping her knee in his hand. "It's okay. I would never judge you."

She shrugged guiltily. "I just couldn't stand it anymore... living with them."

She blinked back her tears, and decided to be honest with Brandon; he would be disgusted by her, she knew, but at least it would end what was between them before either of them got too attached. "I felt trapped in a place where I didn't fit in," she shakily explained. "I missed home so much, and I started getting really depressed. I couldn't handle it, so... I started cutting."

"So, what made you stop?"

"Sophia." She wiped the back of her hand across her face. "I accidentally cut too deep one time, and it wouldn't stop bleeding. It scared her."

"You love her a lot, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded. "She's my baby sister. She's the reason I've put up with all this crap for so long, you know?" She took a shallow breath, her voice trembling. "I used to fantasize about running away, or you know, ending it all. But then, I'd always think about her."

"Believe it or not, that family screwed her up worse than me," she confided. "She's seventeen, but she doesn't know how to do anything by herself, like cooking and stuff. She's never had to. She needs me around, I think."

"I think so too," Brandon nodded. "She's lucky to have you for a big sister."

"Being there for her helps me feel a little better about failing Jude," she told him. A tear slid down her nose and dotted her bare thigh. "As if I could make up for it."

"What happened with Jude was never your fault," Brandon assured her. "I promise."

"You probably think I'm disgusting now, don't you?" She sniffled, frustrated with herself for crying. "You probably never want to look at me again, and I don't blame you."

"That's not true, Callie." He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "I love you, scars and all." He lifted her wrist to his lips, and kissed the criss-crossing lines that marred her skin.

Callie leaned against him, letting him hug her. She didn't even care that he'd used the 'L' word. She just wanted to be held.

"Let's go back out," Brandon whispered. "We can just snuggle for a little while, if you want."

"Okay," she nodded, hugging herself so the sheet covered her bare chest. Brandon stood up and took her by the hand, leading her to the bed. They crawled into it, and Callie wrapped her arms around him. "This is nice," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

Brandon pulled her closer, until the space between them was gone, and their lips connected. Callie returned the kiss eagerly, parting her lips just slightly. She sighed softly when she felt Brandon's tongue enter her mouth.

Her phone rang on the nightstand. "Damn it," she mumbled, turning away from Brandon. She picked the phone up and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Callie? Thank goodness I reached you. It's dad... Robert."

Callie listened, troubled, as Robert explained why he'd called.

"Okay," she nodded. "Thanks for telling me. I'll be there." She said goodbye, and ended the call.

"What's wrong?" Brandon asked, placing his hand on her arm.

Callie turned to him. "My grandmother is dead."

Three Years Earlier:

Callie stood next to Sophia, waiting, not quite knowing what to expect. Her hands were sweaty, and she wiped them off on her jeans. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when the doorbell rang.

Robert hurried to the door, and threw it open. "Mom," he said politely. "Please come in."

Violet Quinn entered the foyer, looking around critically through watery blue eyes. Callie disliked her instantly; she was the woman who had treated her mother so badly, and ended her marriage.

The maid took Violet's bags, and carried them to the guest room, and Robert put his hand on his mother's shoulder. "Mom, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Callie."

Violet looked Callie up and down, scrutinizing her. Callie wasn't sure if she should shake the old woman's hand or curtsy. "Hello," she said, feebly. "It's, uh, nice to meet you."

"Speak up," said Violet. "I hate mumbling." She turned to her son. "She's Colleen's girl, all right. The very image."

"Thank you," said Callie. "It means a lot to me to hear you say that." She knew the older woman didn't mean what she said as a compliment, but she couldn't help herself.

Violet ignored her, and gave Sophia a stiff, formal hug. "How are you, my angel?"

"I'm fine, Grandma," said Sophia. "How are you?"

"Quite well," her grandmother replied, pinching her granddaughter's cheeks. "I brought you a present." She gave Sophia a gift bag. Sophia opened it. Inside was a statue of a horse, prancing gracefully. It appeared ready to gallop away.

"I love it, Grandma," said Sophia. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear." She faced Callie next. "I brought you something too." She passed her something heavy and rectangular, wrapped in green paper.

Callie tore the paper off. Inside, she found a leather-bound dictionary. "Thank you," she nodded.

"You're welcome." Violet sniffled dryly through her pointed nose. "I think I'll go upstairs and rest. I'm tired from the trip."

Before she left the room, she took a velvet pouch from her purse. "Please put my jewelry in the safe," she whispered to Jill, glancing back at Callie.

Jill nodded, taking the pouch from her. "Of course, mom. I'll get right to it." She turned and walked away.

Once Callie and Sophia were left alone, Callie turned to her. "Remind me never to take donuts from her."

Sophia looked at her confused. "What are you talking about?"

Callie laughed. "It was a joke," she explained. "You know, like in Flowers in the Attic?" She was met with an even more puzzled look. "You've never heard of it?"

Sophia shook her head. "No."

"It's a book," Callie told her. "It's about a grandmother who keeps her four grandchildren locked in her attic. She brings them donuts with arsenic in them."

"Do you have the book?" Sophia asked curiously.

"Yeah," she replied. "It's up in my room."

"Can I borrow it?"

Callie considered lending her sister the book, but decided against it. Robert would kill her if she let Sophia read it.

She ruffled Sophia's hair. "Maybe when you're older."

"Sophia?"

Sophia sat on the window seat, staring down at the yard. She turned when she heard Callie's voice. "Hi."

"Hi, baby," said Callie.

"I was hoping you would come," her sister told her. There were tears in her eyes.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked.

Sophia nodded, scooting forward, and Callie sat behind her, wrapping her arms protectively around her.

"Why did you come?" Sophia wondered. "You didn't even like Grandma that much."

Callie buried her nose in the younger girl's curls, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. "I came because I love you," she told her. "You're my baby sister, and you needed me."

She kissed Sophia's cheek. "I'll always be there for you."

"I love you, Callie," said Sophia, snuggling back against her.

"So, how are you holding up?" she asked her quietly.

"I'm a little scared," the teenager admitted. "This is my first funeral. I've never seen a dead body before."

Callie hugged her little sister tighter. Sophia was still very immature for her age; she'd been sheltered from the world her whole life. For that, Callie both envied and pitied her. "I know, baby," she whispered. "It is scary. But I'll be right there with you. I won't leave you. I promise."

"How many funerals have you been to?" Sophia asked.

"Two," she replied, combing her fingers through her sister's hair. "My mother's, and Stef's dad's."

"Were you scared?"

"Mm- hm," she nodded.

"So, how did you get through it?"

"I held Jude's hand," Callie told her. "Just like I'm going to hold yours."

To Be Continued