The Bad Boy or His Brother

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Eighteen

Cameron’s POV

            I spend most of the night laying awake in my bed, my body shaking, my finger nails clawing at my skin, and the tears fall down my face.

            My skin stings, my stomach churns, and my chest aches. My arm is sore and is bruised around the whole inside crease of my arm.

            When morning comes and the light shines through my curtains and into the bedroom I get up and make myself some coffee. I hold my favorite mug in my hand before going out on the back porch and sitting in one of the lawn chairs, the breeze caressing my skin.

            I have just sat down when the phone rings, making me sigh at the thought of having to get up but I do it anyways. I walk inside, leaving the glass sliding door open and I grab the phone off the receiver.

            “Hello.” I sigh.

            “Her funeral is in two days.” My aunt tells me, her voice sad.

            I don’t say anything, I don’t tell her thank you, I don’t tell her goodbye, all I do is pull the phone away from my ear and hang up.

∞        

            I am throwing on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a tank top, and my combat boots when my cell phone rings from my bed.

            Without looking at the caller ID, I pick it up and hold it to my ear.

            “Hello?”

            “I heard the party got raided last night. Good thing they didn’t come to mine, huh?” he jokes and I pull the phone away from my ear and find Rick as the name flashing across my phone.

            “Yea, guess so. Those people who lost their keys would have been screwed.” I tell him, walking down the stairs and to my car.

            “Yea they would have, wouldn’t they? But you would have been too. No keys and as fucked up as you were.”

            I don’t say anything as I get into my car and turn on the ignition. I skip the step where I put my seat belt on and back into the street.

            “Did you hear about the fight?” he asks me and I nod, although he cannot see it.

            “Yea… I did.” I tell him and he chuckles.

            “That guy is really protective over you.”

            “I don’t know why, seems like he fools around with every girl in the school.” I mutter and he makes a noise.

            “Someone a little jealous?”

            “Why would I be jealous?” I ask him snippily, my voice coming out faster and more defensive than it should have.

            “Dunno, wanted to ask you the same. I really don’t see what you see in that guy.”

            “Who says I see anything?” I remember his words and what I walked in on last night and I shake my head.

            “Well even if you didn’t, he sees something in you, but that’s not hard to question.”

            “What is that supposed to mean?”