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Cameron
Considering how I was before with women, turning down an invitation from an attractive redhead when I badly needed a distraction tonight was pretty pathetic.
And especially, I mused as I got on my motorcycle, put my helmet on, when I was trying to push away the desperate need to see the woman who would rather gouge my eyes out than be in the same vicinity as me—and had every right to.
She was close to me now, just a few minutes away.
Don't you fucking dare.
I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw. I looked back at the club, wondered for a second whether I should go back and find Caleb, and just as soon realized I'd rather clip my toenails in hell than go back inside.
I checked my watch, noted how late it was. Rick wasn't home when I dropped by for an impromptu visit earlier, but I doubt he'd be jumping for joy if I kick him out of bed for a visit now.
Itchy and restless, I made a fist, lifted my hand to bite my knuckle. It took a second for me to realize I had my helmet on.
Shit.
I should just go back to my place, call it a night. I only went in the garage to park my truck earlier, get my motorcycle out, but I didn't go in.
There were a lot of things at my place I didn't want to remember. A lot of things that weren't there anymore.
That weren't in my life anymore.
Whose fault was that?
I looked up to the dark sky. And she was all I could see.
Don't do it.
I closed my eyes, silently counted to three, and took a long, deep breath.
Fuck it.
I'm in hell anyway. I might as well burn in it.
A traffic light beside a milkshake bar, street names I'd memorized by heart, houses with white porches and columns and poplar and pine trees out front.
It felt strangely welcoming as I weaved my motorcycle through the streets that I'd driven on many, many times before. I knew where they would lead me.
My breathing picked up, heart pounding like a jackhammer. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be near her.
Welcome home, Cameron.
A very heavy lie. As familiar things could be. They made you believe they still belong to you, and you to them. And that maybe things were the same as before. Because somehow everything looked the same.
And maybe everything could still be.
What if...
I was sinking again. And like always, there was nothing to hold on to. I should have just gritted my teeth and endured it like I always did, but there was something in the air. A powerful demand that clawed at my skin, pushing me to a place where I shouldn't be.
Sink or swim?
She was closer than she'd ever been to me now. It had been a long time. Too long.
Sink or swim?
Sometimes I chose to sink.
The white two-story house with its thick columns on the front porch and the trees surrounding it looked the same. As though time had ended, like the last fading scene of a movie, when I... left her there.
I love you, Cameron.
There seemed to be a permanent knife buried in my chest, and it twisted mercilessly every time I heard the quiver in her voice in my head.
I slid off my helmet, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, and took a deep breath to calm myself. The cool night air felt good on my heated face.
Does she still live here? I frowned when I spotted an unfamiliar car out front. Was that hers or did it belong to someone else?
All the lights were off inside the house. Maybe that was the reason why I suddenly lost my mind, abandoned all self control, got off my motorcycle, and slowly walked up her stairs.
Or maybe the maddening thought that another guy was in her house. In her bed.
Calm the fuck down.
I paused, swiped my mouth. Forced myself to calm down and look around.
Maybe it was too cold for her flowers yet, I thought, scanning the porch. The pots hanging on the eaves still had the dead stems of last season's blooms. I knew she would replace them soon.
The spot where the statue of a frog I gifted her for Christmas once stood was painfully empty.
I picked up an overturned pot, propped it on the floor and put it out of the way. She'd tripped on them before. My eyes inevitably looked for the writing on the column, but it was too dark to see.
I stopped in front of her front door. It taunted me. I gave in, lifted my hand to the doorknob, thinking of her twisting it so many times before, thinking of the door opening so many times to welcome me... a long, long time ago.
And what happened the last time I was here.
What the fuck are you doing? She doesn't want you here. She doesn't want you anymore.
I gritted my teeth, stepped back and was about to leave when the lights suddenly flicked on in the living room, spilling onto the porch through the window. I froze, held my breath. My eyes riveted to the window. Waiting.
Waiting.
Under the lights, her hair glinted like burnt gold mixed with the dark as she ran down the stairs. She must have felt my presence because she stopped, tilted her head.
Our eyes met.
It felt like getting sucker punched right in the gut just before the lights went out. My knees went weak. My mind blanked.
Her eyes widened a fraction, before shock turned into deep sorrow that painted them dark. Her lips parted slowly, and, although impossible, I thought I heard her breath catch. Her hand shook as she raised it toward her mouth, but stopped midair, then fell on her side.
We stared at each other. It only lasted a second, maybe not even, before everything in her eyes went flat as she looked back at me. As though there was nothing but air where I was standing.
She shifted, and there was a very small break in her step, and I almost didn't catch it if I weren't so attuned to her, as she moved and disappeared in the kitchen, out of my sight.
I stood there unmoving. Like the house, the trees, the ground, time had ended for me. And started again when she came back in my sight.
A glass of water in her hand, she went straight for the stairs. No hesitation this time, no break in her step, no acknowledgment or hint that her evening was disturbed. I didn't exist in her world anymore.
If it weren't for the break in her step, I would've assumed she might not have seen me. That the look in her eyes might have just been one of the many dreams I have of her. But it was there. I caught it. She had seen me.
And dismissed me.
I heard the muted sound of her footsteps walking away. Still, I waited.
Do you really think she'd come back?
The lights went out.
I heard mean, mocking laughter in my head, reminding me how I deserved every bit of the pain.
She'll never come back for you. No one does.
I stared in the dark, feeling helpless rage building inside me. I curled my hands into fists, wanting to pound them against the cruelty of fate. Or maybe that was the coward's way—blaming fate for losing her when the fault was mine. I barely stopped myself from slamming them against her front door.
I had to get the hell out of here. What was I thinking? Disturbing her life again, showing up and making her remember how much I had hurt her. How could I have forgotten even for a second what I had done to her that one terrible night? The reason why I had destroyed us. Self-hatred burrowed inside me like a rotten, nasty sickness.
I needed a damn drink. I shut my brain off, found myself heading towards Caleb's place, dull this night with alcohol.
When I got there, security at the front desk informed me that Caleb wasn't home yet. I wasn't thinking. He was still probably at the club. Shit. I needed something to make it all stop.
I hopped back on my motorcycle, racing towards nowhere. Anywhere but near her. I didn't trust myself.
I sped through the streets, whizzing past vehicles on the road, to the opposite direction of where she was. I snarled when someone honked their horn behind me.
Rain started to fall, and the wind felt like a whip on my exposed skin. Instead of slowing down, I sped up. A pathetic substitute for trying to escape what was chasing me.
I knew familiar things lie.
They fool you into thinking they still belong to you, and you to them. And that maybe things were the same as before. Because somehow everything looked the same.
But only because I wished them to be.
No wish can make her into any sort of fucking possibility.
Because no matter how hard I wished for her, no matter how much I felt she still belonged with me, the truth was that...she no longer did.
I swallowed the scream in my throat when I turned a corner, saw blinding lights ahead. A truck was in the middle of both lanes, speeding, heading toward me. Instinct kicked in.
I locked up the brakes, maneuvered my bike off the road onto the gravel as the truck kept going. My heart climbed up my throat as my bike dipped dangerously. I struggled to find balance, my bike kept sliding on the rough terrain. I cursed when I slipped, and gravity did its work.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on my back in the dark, on the cold hard ground. My heart was about to burst out of my chest, but I didn't think anything was broken.
I just laid there, closed my eyes and let the cold rain soak me. Carefully I lifted my arm and covered my eyes.
And couldn't stop the smile that cross my lips.
It was sick, but...it felt good to see her.
I had memorized her. Every inch of her. I thought I had. I realized I thought wrong.
My memories of her were a pitiful comparison to the real woman who was in front of me a moment ago. She had cut her hair short. And still, she looked the same but seemed different. Seemed like more.
She had always been beautiful to me, alluring, but there was something else about her now. Like a drop of a deep colour mixed with her own and altered it just a little. It was subtle, this change, but I was spellbound.
I had expected her anger. Her hate. But what I didn't expect was her indifference. It hurt more than anything she could have said or done to me.
But she wasn't indifferent when our eyes met. That didn't mean anything though, did it?
I knew the emotions I'd seen on her face were real. She'd never been good at hiding them. Just for a moment her eyes felt like a benediction, even though her lack of words were a condemnation.
But those emotions in her eyes were instinctive, like your body's swift reaction when a breeze passes by and touches your skin once, then gone forever.
Her dismissal after that had gutted me, but I deserved it. Whatever heartbreak she felt when she saw me, whatever painful memory that crossed her mind at the sight of me, I'd spend the rest of my life with that on my shoulders.
I had ripped apart every inch of us, then burned the scraps. I felt like I was living a lie. But if there was one thing in my world that was the truth, it was that I was still hers.
I had always been hers. So.
What the fuck now?