by Bree Cariad
Her father cleared his voice, breaking the solemn silence left in her brother’s wake. “Before I spank you, talk.”
Turning back to him, she shook her head. “Why does he hate me?”
His eyes softened and he shook his head. “It’s the exact opposite, Camille. Drake adores and loves you and is terrified that you’ll crash and burn again. And that this time, we won’t be there to pick up the pieces.”
“Plus,” Charlotte added gently, “he blames himself for your collapse in July.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“He saw you were going downhill, honey. He admitted to us he saw the signs but instead of telling us, he stuck up for his big sister and thought he was helping you by saying nothing. I don’t think he can stay silent anymore after that. If you thought Alexander was protective, it’s nothing in comparison to the way Drake wants to act.”
Closing her eyes, Cami rested her forehead on her fists, unable to believe she had missed that. Her lips itched and she quickly rubbed them. Sure, Drake had stayed away from her those first few weeks home from the hospital, but then he seemed to be back to his normal self. She should have known it was a cover. “I screw everything up,” she whispered.
“Enough,” Alex said firmly. “No, you don’t. You are not accountable for anyone but you and even there, I hold some of that responsibility. You might want to talk to your brother tomorrow. Really talk. Let him get it out. Because he has things to say but has been afraid to voice them. Tonight, he just couldn’t hold back anymore.” Reaching behind him, he pulled down the paddle that hung on the wall near the table. “Stand with your hands on the seat.”
Camille practically leapt from her chair. She needed something to make the emotional pain go away. This should do it. Seeing her brother so upset had hurt more than she expected. Letting either of her siblings down cut her to the core. Turning, she bent over and put her palms squarely on the wood.
The swats fell fast and hard on her rear end. Tears sprang to her eyes, but they weren’t the tears of release that she sought. They were just for the physical pain. When the final shot rang through the air, she found herself gasping and huffing, but the tightness in her chest told her it hadn’t worked. As he put the paddle back, she slid onto her seat, not even wincing at the pain. She felt numb, at least outwardly. Inside, something was raging that she hadn’t known about, she didn’t even understand it. But it was getting closer and closer to the surface and whatever it was terrified her. When it finally blew, what was going to happen?
She and her mother finished dinner in silence after Alex left to go attend Drake in his study. Cami was relieved and yet furious when Charlotte sent her up to bed after they cleaned up. Once she closed the door on her bedroom, she found herself pacing back and forth. Divergent opinions raced through her head at such speed she felt like she couldn’t stop them and tired of pacing, she strode into her bathroom and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Wetting down a washcloth, she scrubbed her face and mouth roughly, trying to get rid of… something. As she didn’t understand what was going on inside, she focused on cleaning the physical part she saw. Anger, fear, and panic zoomed through her blood until she tossed the cloth into the sink, rushed to the toilet, and threw up, emptying her stomach in several painful spasms. After she was done, she collapsed onto the floor and cried.
Cami thought she was over that. Turned out she was wrong.
Chapter 4
To keep her worry and fear from her family, Camille grasped hold of any opportunity to leave the house. As volunteer work was the only way she could get out without someone going with her, she took every opportunity to do so. She gave out cookies at the blood drive and read to patients at the hospital, collected books for the mobile library and helped set up for community events. Thankfully, her family took her exhaustion as a good thing, that she was tired from hard work, rather than the fact that keeping food down was extremely difficult. She was managing, but just barely, and had purchased a full bottle of antacids as her stomach burned all the time.
Needing more of a constant volunteer opportunity, Cami remembered that Kathy used to volunteer at the animal shelter. For a few hours a day, it was Camille’s saving grace. The puppies loved unconditionally and she giggled as she sat on the floor petting and playing with them. In fact, they made her feel so good that her mother noticed. “You look happy,” she remarked as Camille came home on her fourth day of volunteering at the shelter.
“Yeah. I like the puppies.” She chatted with her mother about the different dogs at the shelter, not telling her the one small issue she was having. After all, her mother would just worry and there was no need.
The shelter was next to the one bad part of town. Camille hadn’t even known it existed until spring when she went to pick Kathy up from the animal shelter with their two friends Stephanie and Dora. That had been a disaster. Watching Kathy’s face as Stephanie sauntered onto Fargyle Drive as she begged her not to; she hadn’t understood her friend’s panic. Until Kathy called Xander in tears and he and Cami’s father showed up a few minutes later. It wasn’t said in so many words, but it became clear that Kathy had been disciplined by Camille’s brother quite severely for even walking by the street, let alone walking into it.
Stephanie’s father’s reaction had been far worse.
And quite suddenly, a desire to go down that street had hit her. She shrugged it off, but like an itch it kept at the back of her mind, teasing her with taking a stand. After all, nobody would know. Cami could walk down the street and back, get into the truck, and drive home and nobody would be the wiser. It would be a little secret only she would know. And with that one little act of disobedience, surely she would feel better. She wanted to do one crazy thing, something that in the privacy of her mind would remind her she was still Camille Covington, and not some mindless automaton. She’d been feeling like a robot for far too long.
Of course, she reminded herself that was stupid, reckless, and that she was working at being a better her. But the itch just got louder every day. Each time she drove by on her way to or from the animal shelter, her eyes would stray to the street, and she would find herself reaching for the blinker to turn in and then stop herself.
The more she denied that desire, the more her temper rose until she found it was far too easy to explode for no reason. When her mother asked her to fix dinner because she had a huge job she was working on, Camille growled and stomped around, though she had managed to wait until after her mother left the house to do so. When alone in her room, she took to throwing her stuffed animals at the walls to get out some of her emotions. With putting them back on the shelf in her closet afterward, nobody was the wiser.
Or so she thought.
“I know what you’re doing,” Drake warned one day while she was glaring at the washer while she loaded it. Turning her head, she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m doing the laundry. Obviously.”
“Stop it, Cami. If you don’t, I’ll tell Dad.”
“I’m not doing anything, Drake,” she replied in a waspish tone. “I’m so bloody busy I don’t have the time to do anything, now do I?”
His eyes rounded like saucers. “Where did you learn that term?”
“I don’t know. I heard it somewhere.”
“Don’t use it again. It’s a swear word.”
“It is not!” Well, actually Camille knew it kind of was in certain parts of the world, but not in Hyacinth.
“Cami, please,” he said in a different tone, one that made her feel guilty and that guilt just added to her anger. “Don’t do this. I’m not letting my sister get into a mess again.”
Standing up straight, she glared. “And just what is my little brother gonna do about it?”
They stared at each other for two minutes and then the little brat opened his mouth and yelled, “Cami’s keeping things from us again!”
The fact that nobody was in the house to hear except the two of them didn’t stop the fact that her little bro
ther was now intent on tattling on her. If she didn’t get out of the house soon, she might find that right taken away from her. Grabbing the keys to her dad’s truck, she ran out to the garage.
“Cami!” Drake yelled, running after her, “Where are you going?”
Not answering him, she drove off quickly, her breaths coming fast as she tried to figure a way out. If she went home, Drake would have told them and her father would paddle her behind and probably ground her again. Cami was pretty sure she couldn’t take that. Not now. Driving around, she passed Fargyle Drive three times before she slowed down and parked the truck on the street between the animal shelter and the place she really wanted to go.
Why was it considered a bad part of town? Nobody would tell her that. Not that she had ever asked. From her current vantage point, all she could see was a dirt road with several businesses on each side of it. A few older cars and trucks were parked along the drive, but that was it. Opening her door, she slid out and walked forward. Drake would never know about this. It would be her secret, her memory that she could do whatever she craved without repercussions. That she, Camille Covington, was an adult who could do whatever she wanted.
With each step, she held her head higher. As her foot stepped off the paved road onto the dirt drive, her heart jumped and she felt a little giddy. “Take that, Drake,” she murmured, ignoring the tightening in her gut and the fact that if he knew, her brother would probably freak out. As much as he annoyed her right now, she knew Drake loved her and that in and of itself made a part of her want to rush home. Unfortunately, the majority part did not want that right now. No, at this very moment, Cami wanted to do something reckless. And with that thought in mind, she strode down Fargyle.
The businesses were old with chipped signs and rotting posts. She would have suspected it of being a ghost town if she didn’t hear voices coming through broken windows. Her stomach clenched further and she had a small thought to turn and go back to the truck and head home now. After all, she had done it. She had walked down Fargyle Drive. True, it was only a hundred feet, but did she really need to walk all the way? Her feet faltered as she heard a door open and turned her head to the business to her left. Above the door hung a sign that read Jessie’s Tavern.
A bar. There was a bar in Hyacinth? Stunned into not moving for a second, she caught sight of the two men who had stepped out of the door of the tavern. Both of them wore ripped jeans, one had a cigar sticking out of his mouth, and neither wore shirts. Their entire upper bodies were decorated in tattoos and as one leered at her, Cami knew she was in trouble. It was less than a year ago that Stephanie had flirted with some of the guys on this same street and less than twenty-four hours later had been homeless after her father kicked her out.
Gasping as she feared her father would do the same, Camille turned, intent on getting back to her truck. Only to find three other men watching her. They stood between her and her destination. Oh, no. Reaching for her phone and not finding it in her pocket, she remembered she took off too fast. It was still in her bedroom on top of her dresser.
“Daddy, help me,” she whimpered, knowing it was a false hope.
“Camille?” The warm voice had her swing around, coming face-to-face with Jerod Kinsley. Even in her upset state, she registered how good he looked in blue jeans and a t-shirt. “What are you doing here?” The alarmed expression on his face did not help her current emotional state.
“Help me,” she said in a quivering voice, reaching up to rub her hand absentmindedly over her lips. “I’m not supposed to be here and I now know why. I didn’t mean to do it, I truly didn’t,” she said, knowing that she was chattering and in fact had very much meant to do it, but was afraid to stop speaking. “Please help me get out of here.”
His soft gray eyes hardened a bit, but he nodded. Placing a hand on her lower back, he guided her further along Fargyle Drive. “But…” she said, thinking going further was just going to make things worse.
“Shh.”
Oh, no. Was he a bad person, too? She didn’t want to believe it of him. Jerod was too nice.
When she spotted his car, a flood of relief hit her and she trotted forward. He opened the passenger door and she jumped in. A few seconds later, he turned the car around and she breathed a huge sigh of relief as they came to the end of the street. The men from before must have gone back into their buildings as they were no longer in sight. “My truck’s over there,” she commented, pointing toward it.
“Uh-huh,” he said, putting his car in park and turning to look at her. The firm expression on his face reminded her of her father and she sunk back into her seat. “Who knows you’re here?”
“You.”
“I see.” Putting the car back into drive, he turned right rather than left and sped toward town.
“But I need my truck!” If she didn’t get it back to the house, she would be in trouble. Her brother knew she took off, but not where she had gone. If they had to go pick up the truck, the truth would be out.
“I’m sure your father will come pick it up later,” he responded coolly.
“Take me back!” she said, wanting to sound firm and yet knowing she sounded more like a whiny eight year old.
He pulled his car in front of her house and got out. Surprised, she hopped out of the passenger seat, running to catch up as he walked up to the front door. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
His deep gray eyes turned on her and in a surprisingly kind voice, he said, “Making sure you never do that again. Camille, that street is off-limits to most of the girls in this town and I know you’re one of them. I can go down there as I help their youth and so they put up with me. But many of the men down there don’t hold to the same beliefs and values you do. To them, a pretty girl is someone to play with. If you belonged to me, I would paddle you right now until you couldn’t sit down for putting yourself in such danger. But as you don’t, I’m returning you to someone who can.”
As her mouth dropped open in surprise, he pounded on the door. Her father opened it a few minutes later and looked from her to Jerod. “Alex,” Jerod said with a nod. “I just found Camille on Fargyle Drive. I thought you should know.”
Her father’s face fell slightly before it was covered by a calm look and he nodded. “I appreciate you bringing her home, Jerod. Camille, go to my study now.” Stumbling past the two of them, Cami ran back to his study, a bevy of emotions running through her, not the least of which was a combination of anger at Jerod’s high-handedness and relief that he had done what she would not have had the guts to do: tell her father. One less secret, one less lie she had to cover up.
The wait took forever and as she stood fidgeting in front of her father’s chair – rubbing her face and lips, almost as though she was trying to remove something – she wondered how this would affect everything. Jerod’s comments about letting her choose his clothes every season was probably a moot point now. Her disregard for her parents’ wishes and going to Fargyle had probably painted her as a horrible person, one he definitely could never be interested in. If he had asked her out during their meeting at the Lava Lamp, surely he would never do so again. For some reason, that hurt.
Her hand rubbed her sternum as her stomach burned. She needed antacids, but if she went to get them and her father found she had left the study, it would just make things worse.
It was almost a half hour before she heard the front door close and her father’s familiar footsteps come down the hall. The door closed quietly and without a word, he just pointed to the arm of the chair. Gulping, she moved over and placed her hands on the material, gripping it tightly.
“Less than a year ago, your friend walked down Fargyle Drive, was accosted, and had her life changed in a very real way,” her father said in a tone that told her he was forcing himself to be calm, but his emotions were raw. “You know that your brother spanked Kathy for even walking by that street. You know,” he said in a slightly gruffer voice, “that there are reasons for everything we tell you to d
o. So please tell me what you were doing down there.”
Her mouth opened to answer, but what could she say? That she was angry at Drake? That she wanted a hint of danger? That she was trying to strike back at something she didn’t even understand? It seemed stupid to even come up with an excuse, as that was all they were. Cami knew she wasn’t supposed to be down there; even her body had sensed the danger and had wanted her to leave. “I’m sorry.”
The smack of the paddle made her rise up on her toes before settling down again, wincing at the sting.
“That wasn’t an answer. What were you doing down there?”
“I-I-Ow!” she cried out as another one fell. “I don’t know! Ow! Daddy! Ow!” He didn’t ask again, but a torrent of swats fell onto her rear end that made her feel slightly light-headed and that horrible tension that had been building in her chest for a while now tightened. When the blows stopped, she didn’t move, afraid he wasn’t finished. Plus, her chest felt awful.
“Camille, stand in the corner, hands on your head.”
Being sent to the corner after a spanking was far worse than before. Trying to stand still as her behind burned was practically impossible and the knowledge she had brought it upon herself was depressing. Who was she, anyway? Sometimes Camille wasn’t sure anymore. Kathy had described one of her former friends as a train wreck waiting to happen. Cami felt that description fit her just about right.
A soft knock on the study door made her jump but she didn’t turn around.
“Yes?” her father called.
“Dinner’s ready, Dad,” Drake said.