Текст книги "Wait for You"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Oh God. The floor shifted under my feet.

He was on a roll. “And that text message you got? Are you telling me that has nothing to do with this? If you trust me, you will finally tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I do trust you.” The tears reached my eyes, blurring him.

Cam watched me for a second and then stood, grabbing his jeans off the floor. He tugged them on, zipping them up but not buttoning them. He faced me, expression tense. “I don’t know what else to do with you, Avery. I’ve told you shit that I’m not proud of. Stuff that hardly anyone in this world knows and yet you keep shit from me. You keep everything from me. You don’t trust me.”

“No—I do.” I started forward but stopped when I saw the look on his face. “I trust you with my life.”

“But not with the truth? That’s such bullshit, Avery. You don’t trust me.” He stalked past me, heading out to the living room.

I followed him, my hands shaking. “Cam—”

“Stop it.” He grabbed his sweater off the floor and faced me. “I don’t know what else to do and I know I don’t know everything in the world, but I do know that relationships don’t work this way.”

Fear punched me in the chest. “What are you saying?”

“What do you think I’m saying, Avery? There are some obvious issues with you and no, don’t fucking look at me like I kicked your puppy. Do you think I’d break up with you because of whatever the hell went on with you? Just like you thought I’d think differently of you when I saw the scar on your wrist? I know you think that and that’s bullshit.” Sorrow and raw anger flooded his voice. “How can there be any future for us if you can’t be honest with me? If you can’t really trust that how I feel about you is strong enough, then we have nothing. This is the shit that ends relationships. Not the past, Avery, but the present.”

My breath caught. “Cam, please—”

“No more, Avery.  I told you before. All I asked from you was to trust me and not shut me out.” He turned to the door. “And you don’t trust me and you shut me out again.”

And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him. I made it to the couch before my legs gave out. Sitting down, I pressed my knees to my chest. There was a cracking in my chest, my heart, and the pain was so very real.

My mouth opened, but I didn’t make a sound.

I never made a sound.

Chapter 30

I stayed in bed and slept most of Thursday and Friday. A thick and suffocating feeling laid over me like a too-heavy blanket. I’d screwed up. Royally. That was the self-pitying mantra that I repeated over and over. It was the truth and it was all I could think about.

Not how I planned on kicking off my spring recess.

Burying my head into the pillow, I stayed away from my phone, because if I checked it and Cam hadn’t called then I’d feel worse. Pointless thing was I knew he wouldn’t call.

And there was no doubt in my mind that I was in love with him. There was a difference between loving someone and being in love and I had let it slip through my fingers.

Cam had enough.

He’d trusted me, and in a way, I’d thrown that trust back in his face. If he’d known everything, things could’ve gone down differently between us Wednesday night. But I had remained silent, like I had all these years.

At some point during Saturday, the deep cutting sorrow gave way to something else. I threw off the blanket and stood in the middle of the room, breathing in raggedly. Spinning around, I picked up a bottle of lotion and threw it across the room. The bottle hit the closet door and then thudded off the floor.

Not satisfied, I grabbed another bottle and threw it harder. That one hit the wall, cracking the plaster. There went my security deposit.

I didn’t care.

Anger rose around me like a hot steam. I whirled, pulling the comforter and sheets off the bed.

Then I attacked my closet.

I hated the boring sweaters, the turtlenecks, the cardigans, and the ill-fitting shirts. I hated everything, but most of all, I hated myself for doing this. Crying out, I yanked them down. Hangers rocked and fell to the floor. Tears blurred my eyes as I turned, seeking something else to destroy, but there really wasn’t anything. No pictures to throw. No paintings to rip from the walls. There was nothing. I was so pissed—pissed at myself.

Moving to the hallway, I leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut. Breathing heavily, I kicked my head back and bit back a scream.

The silence was killing me.

And that’s all there ever was. Silence. It was all I knew. Keep quiet. Pretend nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong. And look how well that was turning out.

I slid down the wall and opened my eyes. They were as dry as I felt on the inside, brittle.

Who did I have to blame for that? Blaine? His parents? Mine? Did it matter? Never once did I stand up to my parents and tell them what I thought. I just shut up and took it—took it until I could run away.

Problem was, running away wasn’t working anymore. It never worked in the first place and how long did it take me to figure that out? Five years, almost six? And how many miles? Thousands?

And then, like fucking clockwork, I heard my phone ring from the living room.

Shoving to my feet, I stalked out there, the back of my skull tingling as I saw UNKNOWN CALLER flash across the screen. I grabbed the phone and pressed the answer button.

“What?” I said, my voice shaking.

Nothing. More fucking silence.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I demanded. “What? You have nothing to say? You’ve only been calling and texting for nine months? I’d think you’d have a shit ton to say.”

There was another pregnant pause and then, “I can’t believe you answered.”

My eyes widened. Holy shit, the voice belonged to a girl. The person who was calling me and most likely emailing me was a girl.

A girl.

Who knows what I expected, but I sure as hell didn’t expect a girl.

I could only say one word. “Why?”

“Why?” The girl coughed out a dry laugh. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, do you? You didn’t even read a single email I sent you? Not one?”

She was questioning me? “Well, when I saw the content in a couple of them, I decided to not torture myself.”

“I’ve been emailing you since June, trying to talk to you. There was nothing wrong with the first couple of emails I sent you. If you just read one of them, you would’ve seen that. Then again, why should I even believe that you didn’t read them since you have such an infamous background of telling the truth.”

Plopping down, I frowned. “Who are you?”

“God, this is fucking unbelievable. My name is Molly Simmons.”

My eyes widened. “Molly?”

“You sound like you recognize my name. I guess you did read the emails.”

“No—my cousin told me about you.” I was on my feet again, pacing. “I didn’t read your emails. I’m not lying about that.”

“Well, that would be the first time you told the truth if that’s the case,” she said, and I heard a door slam.

I didn’t know what to say. Shell-shocked—I was absolutely dumbfounded. “I don’t know… God, I’m so sorry for what you—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she cut in, her voice razor sharp. “I’m sorry means absolutely fucking nothing to me.”

My mouth hung open as I shook my head, which was stupid, because it wasn’t like she could see any of that.

“You’re a fucking lying whore. Because of you—”

“Hey! Seriously. You’re calling me a whore? You have to see how messed up that is.” My hand tightened around the phone. “Honestly, every single disgusting message you have sent me is messed up. And I don’t even understand why you’d do this.”

“Why?” Her voice turned shrill. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes!”

There was an audible breath. “Tell me on thing. What was true? What you told the police or what Blaine told every one?”

I sucked in a breath.

“Which is it, Avery? Because if it was true, why did you drop the charges knowing what he was capable of? Because you had to know that there was something wrong with him and that he’d do it again.”

My shoulders caved in and I whispered, “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand completely. Either way, you’re a liar.” Molly’s breath crackled over the phone. “Do you know why I wanted to get in contact with you? Because I needed to talk to someone who’d been through what I had been through and I thought—” Her voice cracked. “It doesn’t matter what I thought or why I did. You didn’t even take the time to read a single, fucking email. The least you could do is to tell me the truth.”

I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on my palm. My head was still spinning from what happened with Cam and this blew my mind. There had been so many emails from accounts I didn’t recognize. Many with my name as the subject or Blaine’s. And I hadn’t opened them because I hadn’t wanted to deal with it, but I never thought it was her.

Then again, would that really have changed anything? Would I have opened them and reached out to her? Legal aspects of the non-disclosure aside, would I?

I’d be lying if I said I thought I would.

“Are you there?” Molly demanded.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat, lifting my head. The ball in my chest unraveled a little. “I didn’t lie.”

“So it was true?” Her voice sounded closer to the phone. “And you dropped the charges.”

My body tensed like a coiled rope. “Yes, but you—”

“Why would you do that?” Her voice was raw. “How could you? How could stay silent this long?”

“I—”

“You’re a coward. You cling to your silence because you’re a coward! You’re still the same scared, fourteen year old girl pretending to be over it years later!” she shouted, and my ear popped. “This happened to me because you didn’t tell the truth. You can tell yourself whatever you want, but that’s the truth. And we both know it.”

Molly hung on me.

I sat there, staring at my phone. Anger still boiled inside me, but some of what she had said had sunken through the red haze and it made sense.

“You cling to your silence because you’re a coward! You’re still the same scared, fourteen year old girl pretending to be over it years later!”

She was right.

God, she was so right. All these years and I had never uttered the words since that night. I was too scared to tell anyone, to even tell Cam. And that was why he’d walked out of here, because he had also been right. I hadn’t let go of the past and there was no future unless I did so. All I’d been doing this entire time was pretending—pretending to be okay, to be completely happy, to be a survivor.

And I wasn’t a survivor. For too many years, I’d been nothing more than a victim on the road.

Molly didn’t know the whole story. Probably wouldn’t change anything if she did, but surviving and being a survivor were two different things. That’s what I’d been doing this whole time. Just surviving, waiting for the day when what Blaine had done to me would not tarnish everything that was good in my life.

I dropped my head into my hands. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Instead, there were things I could’ve done differently. I couldn’t change what had happened to me, but I could’ve changed the way I reacted, especially now when I was so far away from those who had hindered any attempts to overcome it. But to be honest, it was more than that. It had always been more than Blaine. It had been my parents—it had been me.

The only way I could truly move on was to confront what had happened, to do something I had been punished for doing in the first place.

It wasn’t the past that was coming between us.

It was the present.

Cam had been right.

Suddenly, I shot to my feet. I was moving before I knew what I was doing. It was when I stood in front of Cam’s apartment door that my heart leapt in my throat. It was probably too late for us, but if I told him—if I could explain myself—then that was a start. Either way, I owed it to Cam.

I owed it to myself.

I knocked and heard footsteps a few seconds later. The door swung open, revealing Cam. His eyes immediately closed and his mouth opened, and I knew he was going to tell me to leave.

“Can we talk?” I asked, voice cracking halfway through. “Please, Cam. I won’t take up much of your time. I just—”

Cam’s eyes flew open and then narrowed on me. “Are you okay, Avery?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Part of me wanted to turn and go back to my apartment, but I refused to allow myself to run. Not anymore. “I just need to talk to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped aside. “Ollie’s not here.”

Relieved that he hadn’t shut the door in my face, I followed him into the living room. Cam picked up the remote, muting the TV as he sat on the couch. “What’s going on, Avery?” he asked, and his tone suggested that he didn’t expect me to answer truthfully, and that hurt.

It hurt because he had no reason to expect me to be upfront about anything.

I sat on the edge of the recliner, unsure of where to start. “Everything.” And that was all I could say at first. “Everything.”

Cam scooted forward, twisting the cap he wore backward. An adorable habit that said he was paying attention. “Avery, what’s going on?”

“I haven’t been honest with you and I’m sorry.” My lower lip started to tremble and I knew I was seconds from losing it. “I’m so sorry, and you probably don’t have time for—”

“I have time for you, Avery.” He met my gaze with a steady one. “You want to talk to me, I’m here. I’ve been here. And I’m listening.”

As he held my gaze, fight or flight kicked. Instinct. Run. Don’t deal with it. But Cam kept holding my gaze and something unlocked inside me. It wasn’t easy, but the words were tumbling up. I wouldn’t run.

Calmness settled over me and when I took a breath, it came out slowly. “When I was fourteen, I went to this party on Halloween,” I heard myself saying, sounding as if I were in a tunnel. “I was there with my friends. We were all dressed up and there was this guy there. It was his house and… and he was three years older than me and friends with my cousin.”

I took another deep breath, my gaze dropping to my hands. “He was really popular. So was I.” A dry, humorless laugh came out. “That might not seem important, but it was. I never thought someone like him could do—could be like he was. And maybe that was stupid of me, like a fatal flaw or something. I don’t know.” I gave a little shake of my head as I looked up. “I was talking to him and I was drinking, but I wasn’t drunk. I swear to you, I wasn’t drunk.”

“I believe you, Avery.” Cam closed his eyes briefly as he steepled his fingers under his chin. “What happened?”

“We were flirting and it was fun. You know, I didn’t think anything of it. He was a good guy and he was a good-looking guy. At one point, he pulled me into his lap and someone took our picture. We were having fun.” I laughed again, another harsh sound. “When he got up and pulled me into one of the empty guest rooms that was on the ground floor, I didn’t think anything of it. We sat on the couch and talked for a little while. Then he put his arms around me.” I rubbed my hands together continuously, hoping to ease the knots forming in my stomach. “At first I didn’t mind, but he started doing things I didn’t want him to. I told him to stop and he laughed it off. I started crying and I tried to get away from him, but he was stronger than me, and once he got me on my stomach, I couldn’t do anything really, but to tell him to stop.”

Cam had gone very still. The only way I could tell he was breathing was because of the steady thrumming of the muscle along his jaw. “Did he stop?”

“He didn’t,” I said quietly. “He never stopped no matter what I did.”

A moment passed and Cam straightened. He looked like he wanted to stand but changed his mind. “He raped you?”

Closing my eyes, I nodded. Talking about it, it was almost like I could feel Blaine’s hands. “I am still a virgin.” I forced my eyes open. “He didn’t touch me there.  That’s not how he… raped me.”

Cam stared at me, and I saw the moment he understood. Comprehension flared in his eyes. His hands closed into fists in his lap. The muscle is jaw sped up. “Son of a bitch,” he said, lips thin. “You were fourteen and he did that to you?”

“Yeah.” The knots in my stomach grew.

Another moment passed and Cam thrust his hand through his hair. “Shit. Avery. I suspected something. I thought that something like that might have happened to you.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “You did?”

He nodded. “It was the way you acted sometimes. How jumpy you could be, but I’d just hoped it didn’t go that far. And when you told me you were still a virgin, I thought that was the case.”

That was an understandable assumption.

“Avery, I’m so, so sorry. You should have never had to go through something like that, especially at that age…” His jaw clenched down and he looked like he was going to stand again but stopped. “Please tell me that mother fucker is in jail for this.”

“He is now.” I focused on the muted TV. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.” When I didn’t say anything, his spoke again and his voice sounded strained. “What else, Avery? Please talk to me, because I’m seconds away from booking a flight to Texas and killing a mother fucker.”

I rocked back, pulling my knees to my chest. Knowing that I owed him everything, I took another deep breath. “After he stopped, I really don’t think he had a clue that he’d done anything wrong. He just left me there on this couch and when I could get up, I knew I needed to tell someone. I knew I needed to go to the hospital. I was in so much…” I squeezed my eyes shut as a shudder rocked through me. The following minutes after Blaine had left me had been as horrifying as the attacked. “I couldn’t find my friends, but I found my purse, and I ended up walking out of the house and I kept walking until I remembered I had my phone with me. I called 911.”

Unable to sit any longer, I dropped my feet to the floor and stood. “I ended up at the hospital and they did an exam. The police showed up and I told them what happened and it was the truth.”

“Of course it was the truth,” he said, his gaze following me.

“By the time the police left the hospital, the party was over, but Blaine was at his house. They arrested him and took him in. I went home and I stayed out of school for the next two days, but everyone found out that he’d been arrested for what he’d done.”  I stopped in front of the TV. “And then his parents showed up.”

“What do you mean?”

I started pacing again. “His parents and mine were—are—country club buddies. My parents and his—all they every cared about was image. My mom and dad have more money than they could ever want, but…” A thickness coated my throat and my vision blurred. “The Fitzgeralds offered my parents a deal. That if I dropped the charges and remained quiet about what happened, they would pay me and them an ungodly sum of money.”

Cam’s nostrils flared. “And your parents told them to go fuck themselves, right?”

I laughed, but it came out more of a sob. “They showed my parents the picture that was taken of Blaine and me at the party and they said that if this went to court, no one would believe the girl in the ‘slutty costume sitting in his lap.’ And my parents, they didn’t want to deal with the scandal. They rather it all go away, so they agreed.”

“Holy shit,” Cam whispered hoarsely.

“It happened so fast. I couldn’t believe what my parents were telling me to do. They hadn’t really talked to me about it before, but they… they had been so worried about what everyone would think if the whole thing went public—the pictures and the fact that I had been drinking. I was just so scared and confused and you know, I’m not even sure they believed me.” I tugged my hair back, hating what I was about to admit. “So I signed the papers.”

Cam said nothing.

“I agreed to take the money, half of which went into my account so that when I turned eighteen, I had access to it, and I agreed to pull the charges and to not speak about it again.” I dropped my hands to my sides. “That makes me a terrible person, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Cam’s brows flew up. “You’re not a terrible person, Avery. Jesus Christ, you were fourteen and your parents should’ve told them to fuck off. If anyone is to blame, beside the fucker who did that to you, it’s them. You don’t have any fault in this.”

I nodded slowly as I sat on the recliner. “Within days, everyone at school turned on me. Apparently, there was nothing in the agreement about Blaine keeping his mouth shut. He told people that I had lied. That I had done all those things with him willingly and then falsely accused him. Everyone believed him. Why wouldn’t they? I dropped the charges. I wouldn’t talk about it.  School was… it was terrible after that. I lost all my friends.”

Cam ran a hand over his jaw. “This is why you stopped dancing?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I couldn’t stand people looking at me and whispering about what they’d heard or talking openly about it in front of my face. And I did this...” I raised my left arm. “My mom was so pissed.”

He stared at me, as if he couldn’t comprehend the last thing I had said. “She was mad because you…” Trailing off, he shook his head. “No wonder you don’t go home to see them.”

“It’s why I picked here, you know. It was far enough to just get away from all of it. I thought that was all I needed to do—to distance myself.”

“That message I saw? It was someone who knew about what happened?

I nodded again. “Whoever came up with the saying you can’t escape your past really knew what they were talking about.”

The muscle popped faster in Cam’s jaw. “What else has been going on, Avery? You said this Blaine,” he spat the name out, “was in jail? But who’s been messaging you?”

Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead into my open hands. My hair slid forward, shielding my face. “I’ve been getting these messages since August. I just thought it was some asshole and ignored it.  And my cousin has been trying to reach me, but I ignored him too because… well, for obvious reasons. I finally talked to my cousin over winter break, the night before I came over to your apartment.”

“The night of the fight?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He was trying to get in touch with me to tell me that Blaine had been arrested for doing the same thing to another girl at the start of summer. He actually apologized. That meant a lot to me, but… I didn’t know that this girl had been the one whose been contacting me this entire time.” Taking a deep breath, I told him how it all came about with Molly.

When I was done, Cam was shaking his head. “What happened to her is fucking terrible and I’m glad that bastard’s ass is going to jail. Better yet, he should be fucking castrated, but what happened to her isn’t your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t make him do that to you or her.”

“But by me not telling anyone allowed him to do it again.”

“No.” Cam stood, his eyes full of fire. “Don’t fucking tell yourself that. No one knows what would’ve happened if you didn’t drop the charges. You were fourteen, Avery. You did the best you could in the situation. You survived.”

I lifted my head then. “But that’s it, you know? All I’ve been doing is surviving. I haven’t been living. Look at what I’ve done to us. And yes, I’ve done this! I pushed you away again.”

His expression softened. “But you’re telling me now.”

“I’ve let what happened to me five years ago still affect me! When we almost had sex? I wasn’t afraid of you or if there’d be pain. It wasn’t that. I was afraid that once we started, that what Blaine had done would ruin it for me or that I would ruin it for myself. I am coward—I was a coward.” Coming to my feet, I folded my arms across my waist. “But it’s too late, isn’t it? I should’ve been honest with you months ago so you knew what you were getting into and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t.”

“Avery…”

The back of my throat burned as tears flooded my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Cam. I know telling you now doesn’t change anything, but I needed to tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong. You were perfect—perfect for me—and I love you.” My voice broke again. “And I know you can’t look at me the same now. I understand.”

Cam arms had fallen to his sides. He looked shell shocked. “Avery,” he broke in, voice soft, and he was suddenly in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “What did you say?”

“That you can’t look at me the same?”

“Not that. Before that.”

I sniffed. “I love you?”

“You love me?” His eyes searched mine intensely.

“Yes, but—”

“Stop.” He shook his head. “Do you think I look at you differently? I told you I always suspected that something happened—”

“But you had hope that it wasn’t that!” I tried to pull away, but Cam’s hands dropped to my upper arms, not allowing me to run. “You looked at me before with hope and you don’t have that anymore.”

“Is that what you really think? Has that been what has been stopping you this whole time from telling me?”

“Everyone looks at me differently once they know.”

“I’m not everyone, Avery! Not to you, not with you.” Our gazes locked. “Do you think I still don’t have hope? Hope that you will eventually get past this? That it won’t haunt you five more years from now?”

I didn’t know what to say, but my heart was racing as he slid his hands down to mine. He placed them on his chest, right above his heart. “I have hope,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. “I have hope because I love you—I’ve been in love with you, Avery. Probably before I even realized that I was.”

“You loved me?”

Cam dropped his forehead to mine and his chest rose sharply under my hands. “I love you.”

My heart stuttered. “You love me?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

There was a strength in those words, but there was a power in the truth. Something broke wide open inside me, like a foundation on a great, thick wall finally giving under the weight. A hailstorm of emotion whirled inside me, seeking a way out. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even try. Tears streamed down my face, so fast that I couldn’t see Cam’s face through them.

A sound from the back of his throat came and he pulled me to his chest, circling his arms around me tightly. He held me, whispering soothing, nonsensical words. At some point, he lifted me into his arms and carried me back to his bedroom. He laid me down on his bed and climbed in beside me, cradling me to his chest. Once the tears came, they didn’t stop.  They were the big, ugly kind of sobs you couldn’t speak or breathe around. There was also something renewing in those tears, as if each tear that fell somehow symbolized that I was finally letting go.

I cried for Molly and all that she had to go through. I cried for Cam and everything I had put him through. I cried, because in the end, he still loved me. Most of all, I cried for everything that I had lost and for everything I knew I could now gain.