by Kate Stacy
I had to be the one to do it. I needed this control on the situation and I’m thankful as fuck Morris understands that fact.
Morris finishes the required statements and waits until he’s sure Chad isn’t going to resist or give me a hard time. He leaves us then, heading to check on Camille. I watch him for only a second before I lead Chad to the cruiser. There’s so much I want to say to this piece of shit, but I bite my tongue. I won’t risk anything by opening my mouth. Much like him, absolutely anything I say right now can be used against me.
He must not share my concerns.
“I told her I could get to her anywhere.”
The volume of his words is low, so quiet I almost miss them. Almost
I hear every single syllable.
“Yeah? And look where that got you.”
I give him nothing else.
I help him lower himself into the back seat and slam the door.
The dirty work is done. Now I can focus on what matters most.
Turning to Camille once again, I’m happy to see she’s on her feet now. She’s standing with Morris, and Hannah and my mom have joined them. I barely take a step before Hannah sprints toward me, practically flying into my arms. I pick her up, letting her wrap her legs around my waist. I hold onto her tightly as she buries her head in the curve of my neck. Ordinarily, I’d say she’s too damn old to carry like this, but right now I don’t give a fuck. My daughter just witnessed shit she should have never seen, and she needs my comfort.
Still carrying Hannah, I close the short distance between me and Camille. Removing one arm from around Hannah, I put it on Camille’s shoulder and pull her against me. We stand like that for a few moments, but eventually, I have to draw back. I whisper comforting words to Hannah, telling her how much I love her and how proud I am for how she handled things today. She nods when I tell her that I need to put her down because Camille needs me right now.
She loosens her hold on me and I lower her to the ground.
“Ma, can you please take Hannah home? We need to finish up here and get Camille checked out, but I’ll stop by your house once everything is taken care of, okay?”
They readily agree after Hannah receives a promise from Camille that she’ll come too.
I send up a silent thanks to my daughter for having my back.
With Mom and Hannah gone, I’m finally able to give Camille the attention she deserves.
The first thing I do is check her over from head to toe. Bruises are already forming on her arm and throat where that fucker grabbed her. I can see dark spots where his individual fingers left their mark. She has a small cut on her forehead that I didn’t notice until now. It’s still bleeding, but from the looks of things, it’s slowed. It’s not uncommon for head wounds to bleed heavily, so I’m not too concerned, though she may need a couple stitches.
She doesn’t appear to have any serious injuries, but that knowledge doesn’t stop the new rush of anger that comes over me. She shouldn’t have any fucking injuries. He should have never been able to touch her.
I offer to call an ambulance, but Camille refuses.
“I’m fine. I don’t want to make a big deal about this, Ryan. I just want to go home.”
I want to argue with her. She might appear to be fine on the outside, but I need to be sure there’s nothing wrong that we can’t see. I need to be sure our babies are still safe and healthy.
I don’t argue, though. It won’t do me a damn bit of good.
Instead, I step away long enough to make a quick call.
When Holden answers, he tells me he’s already on his way.
“Hannah sent me a text. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
I wasn’t aware that Hannah even had his number, but once again I’m grateful to have such an incredible kid. She’s killing it today.
I should feel bad about calling him, but I don’t. I want Camille to get checked out by a doctor and I know Holden will drive her straight to the hospital, regardless of how much she argues. He’s one of the few people who won’t put up with her stubborn shit. Normally I wouldn’t either, but she and I aren’t in the best place, so I don’t want to rock the boat.
I’ll let Holden be the bad guy this time around.
Sure enough, he pulls into the parking lot exactly two minutes later.
Selfishly, I want to be the one to care for her, but it’s a battle I know I won’t win. I’m reluctant to let her leave with him, but I don’t have a choice.
Before she can sneak away, I hold her face in my hands and kiss her forehead.
My gesture brings tears to her eyes and I almost backpedal, unable to let her go.
Unfortunately, I have to ride with Morris to the station. We still have a job to do.
Holden and I have an entire conversation without words. With only my eyes, I tell him to take care of my girl. He glances at the squad car and I ensure him that the asshole is going down for this. He gives me a subtle nod, which I return. Camille is in good hands.
I make her a promise to come see her when my shift is over. She doesn’t outwardly react, but I can tell in her eyes it’s what she wants. I watch as Holden leads her to his truck and helps her climb in. I watch their movements until they’re both inside the truck and making their way out of the parking lot. I continue to watch the vehicle until it’s around the corner and completely out of sight.
Only when they’ve gone, I turn to Morris and motion my head toward the cruiser.
“Let’s go get this fucker booked.”
He grins, rubbing his hands together.
We’ve waited a long time for this moment.
THIRTY-FOUR
Camille
Fine.
It’s the magic word of the day.
I’m fine. The babies are fine. Everything is fine.
It’s not a complete lie.
Physically, there isn’t anything wrong that won’t heal. I survived relatively unscathed. Some significant bruising, a slightly sore throat, and five stitches in my head near my temple. The last one might leave a scar, but I couldn’t care less about that. Considering the circumstances—things could have been much worse.
Mentally, well, that’s where things are a little screwed up.
How I feel and how I’m willing to admit I feel are two entirely different things.
I’m fine.
Are you, though?
The truthful answer is no.
But I will be, so I stand by my original answer. I’m fine.
It’s going to take some time to get over the events today, but I will get over them. I’ll move on with my life. I’ll forget the fear from today, the knowledge that he had me in a position I couldn’t get myself out of. The worry that he would cause harm to the two little blessings still growing inside of me.
Chad can live with the consequences of his actions. He didn’t break me seven years ago—he won’t break me now. I won’t allow it.
Now that I’ve been poked, prodded, examined, and photographed, I just want to go home. By home, I mean my brother’s house.
I won’t deny the happiness that filled me when Ryan came to my rescue today, but with that happiness comes a whole array of emotions that I’m not ready to decipher quite yet. At least not today. I’m too sore, too exhausted. I want nothing more than to go crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten hours. If I have it my way, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Holden guides me out of the hospital, refusing to be more than a few inches away from me at any given time. He hasn’t left my side since he showed up at the perfect time to act as a buffer between me and Ryan. I know it’s not why he came, but it helped, nonetheless. If my brother hadn’t shown up, I would have had no choice but to go with Ryan.
I know he and I need to talk about everything, especially after today. I can’t avoid it forever.
I can put it off for a little longer, though.
We don’t make it out the door before
Ryan rushes up, panting and breathing heavily.
I tighten my grip on the folder I’m carrying, tucking it further into my side. I almost wish I didn’t have to turn it over to the police because I don’t want Ryan to see the photographs inside. He’s already seen some of the damage, but there’s more hidden beneath my clothes that he doesn’t know about. One of the nurses took pictures of every single mark on my body that shouldn’t be there.
I fucking hated it.
I had to strip down to basically nothing while she cataloged every inch of bruised flesh. She snapped photos, like I was nothing more than a canvas of evidence, painted by the rough violence of Chad’s hands.
I forced myself to stand tall and suffer in silence. The process was a necessary evil that will only help make a stronger case against him. Knowing he’ll end up behind bars for his crimes is worth every minute of shame and embarrassment I felt.
“Cami, I’m gonna leave you here with Ryan while I go get the car, okay?”
My brother looks to me for permission, but he knows I’m not going to argue with him.
Ryan waits for Holden to walk away, but not a second more.
“How are you feeling, Gorgeous?” I melt a little at the nickname, but I won’t admit it. “What did the doctor say?”
I give him a generic response. I tell him I’m fine, but he sees right through me
He always has.
“I’d like you to come home with me, Camille. We have so many things we need to talk about. I have apologies and explanations for everything that happened the other day. There aren’t any excuses for what I said, but I want to make sure you understand that it was never about you.”
“Ryan, I...I can’t deal with this right now.”
I don’t mean to use his words against him, the same words that set this all in motion.
It doesn’t feel good—I’m not a vindictive person—it’s simply the truth.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just...I miss you. Hannah’s missed you. I know she wants to see you after everything she saw today. I’ve talked to her, promised her you’re okay. She wants to see for herself. She was so scared for you today, Camille. We were all so afraid.”
Using Hannah is a low blow, but he’s not trying to manipulate me.
His words are pure honesty, and I’d believe them even if Hannah hadn’t asked me herself to come see her later.
I almost give in. Almost.
If for nothing else, for Hannah, but I can’t. I know I promised I’d stop by Julia’s house after seeing a doctor, but I just don’t have it in me right now. I’m completely wrung out. I’ll apologize to Hannah later for not keeping my word. She’ll understand.
“Not tonight, Ry.” I break it to him gently. I’m not trying to hurt him, I’m really not. “It’s been a long day. I’m sore and tired. I just want to sleep, and after that...I need a little time to think, to process. It’s a lot, ya know? So much has happened…”
“It’s okay, baby. I get it.”
The dejection in his demeanor is hard to swallow.
I find myself missing that brilliant smile of his, those deep, sexy dimples. I don’t like seeing him miserable, so I give a little.
“I really do want to sleep. I’ll come by the house in the morning, okay? After I wake up. I’ll come straight over. We can talk.”
I feel so awkward. It’s like I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. I’m second guessing every word I say. It makes my stomach churn. I’ve never been awkward or shy with Ryan before.
I’m rewarded with a hint of a smile, but it’s easy to see he’s not completely satisfied.
It’s all I’ve got to give, so he’ll have to accept it.
He leans in, chastely kissing my cheek and laying a second one on my forehead.
“Take care of yourself, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Holden pulls up but doesn’t get out of his truck. I see it for what it is, he’s standing back, letting Ryan help me into the truck. Once I’m buckled, Ryan gives me a sad smile and closes the door.
I watch out the window as Ryan remains standing stoically in the spot where I left him. I don’t take my eyes off him until he’s completely out of sight.
Sighing, I close my eyes and rest my head against the headrest.
“You need to talk to him, baby girl.”
Rolling my head toward Holden, I open my eyes and look at him. The tension in his face, the darkness around his eyes, it tells me everything I need to know. He’s stressed. Worried for me. It’s everything I didn’t want to put on him. He tries, he tries so damn hard, but as much as he wants to...my big bad brother can’t protect us from every danger the world holds. It’s a fact he despises.
“I’m going to see him in the morning.”
“Good,” he says, eyes flitting to me for only a second. “Promise to keep an open mind while he explains.”
Holden must have talked to Ryan.
He knows why he said what he did.
Part of me wants to ask, but I don’t. Holden won’t tell me. He’ll insist I let Ryan tell me himself, which is fair. Apart from that, I’m honestly just too damn tired to hear it right now.
I make the promise easily, knowing Holden wouldn’t intentionally steer me wrong.
He always has the best intentions.
THIRTY-FIVE
Ryan
I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.
“You didn’t have to knock, Gorgeous. This is your home, too.”
Her cheeks tint pink, lips forming a small, shy smile.
“Come on.” I offer her my hand. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
I hold my breath until she places her hand in mine.
I know she said she would come by this morning, but I didn’t let myself fully believe it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case she changed her mind.
I’m so fucking happy she’s here.
I pull her behind me into the house and close the door. She stops just inside, looking around with a curious gaze. I follow her line of sight, trying to decide what she’s looking for, or at. She’s only been gone a few days, though I have to admit it feels like much longer. Nothing has changed, apart from the cameras being removed. It’s not something she’d notice, and I don’t want to bring it up.
With a gentle tug of our connected hands, I try to urge her forward. She follows, but we don’t get far. Hannah comes running down the hall, barely stopping herself from launching at Camille. Hannah wraps herself around Camille like an octopus and I cover my mouth to hide a laugh. I release Camille’s hand so she can return Hannah’s overzealous hug.
At Camille’s touch, Hannah begins to cry. It starts as a slow flow of tears, but within seconds they’re both crying rivers. They’re display of emotion has tears forming in my eyes, making me want to join in and soak up some of their comfort. I stand back and let them have their moment. It’s obviously something they both need.
Hannah sobs, gasping with ragged breaths, overwhelmed at the force of her emotions being purged. I’ll admit I’m a bit shocked at how badly she’s been affected by everything that happened yesterday. I have to fight the urge to step in and comfort my daughter. I’m not used to standing on the sidelines while someone else takes on the role that’s usually reserved for me.
I resist, knowing the importance of this moment.
The way they’re loving each other is both beautiful and heartbreaking.
I’ve never seen my daughter cry this hard.
She didn’t even react this emotionally to the news of her mother’s death.
I’m not sure what to make of that, honestly.
I don’t want to interrupt their moment, but Camille went through a serious ordeal yesterday and I’m not sure how she’s feeling this morning. If I know her at all, her injuries are worse than she let on yesterday. I didn’t miss her slight limp as she left the hospital. I’d rather play it safe than risk putting extra stress on her body.
“Hannah,” I address her quietly. “Why don’t we go to the living room and sit down. I’m sure Camille would be more comfortable.”
Hannah barely gives Camille room to move, but they follow me into the living room and sit together on the couch. I sit nearby, waiting patiently for my turn. I won’t take this away from Hannah, not when it’s obvious how important Camille is to my little girl.
Once they’ve both calmed and their tears have quieted, I ask Hannah to give me and Camille some time alone. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a fuss. Camille and I need to talk, and I’d rather Hannah not be present for our conversation. She wasn’t even supposed to be home this morning, but with the cameras removed and Chad behind bars, I had no reason to tell her she couldn’t come home when she asked last night.
Once Hannah is out of sight and I hear her bedroom door close, I turn my attention to Camille.
She’s oddly calm now, showing no signs of emotion.
I don’t like the flat, indifferent expression on her face, the coldness in her eyes.
I say her name, but she doesn’t look in my direction, she doesn’t even blink.
I move to the space in front of where she’s seated, and I drop to my knees. Inhaling deep, I hang my head low for a minute to gather myself before I look at her again. When I do, she won’t look at me, won’t meet my eyes.
“Camille. Give me your eyes. Please, baby.”
I hold my breath. Wait. And finally, she turns her gaze in my direction.
When her eyes meet mine, they fill with tears and it breaks something inside of me.
I did this to her.
“I’m sorry, Camille. So fucking sorry.” My voice is raspy, laced with the pain in my words. “I never, ever meant to make you feel unwanted. What I said to you, God, baby. Those words...they were careless, and they should have never left my lips. You’re so much more than family, Camille. You’re everything. I never want you to feel less than the woman I love.”