Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1)

by H. P. Davenport

  I take another sip of my drink. Tears flow freely down my cheeks.

  “I never got a look at him, he had a mask on like most of the guests did. He was dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. I told the police everything I know. I scratched him when he had his arm across my throat. The detectives said they will run his DNA through the system. Who knows, maybe they’ll get a match.”

  Christian walks around the island, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Cami. I was there tonight. This should have never happened.”

  My body stiffens, Christian pulls back to look at me. “What?”

  “Don’t blame yourself. I told you that earlier in the hospital. I’m not telling you what happened for you to take blame. I’m telling you because I need to talk to someone. You have always been there for me. I can’t tell Morgan this and I sure as hell can’t talk to Jamie. I feel like I am dying inside, Christian. Every time I close my eyes, he is all I can see . . . all I can feel. The counselor left her card, but I don’t want to talk to a stranger.”

  Pulling me softly against his chest, he kisses my head. “You can talk to me about anything. Anytime, but you know you are going to have to talk to Jamie. You know our bond is solid, but you have something special with Jamie. You always have. You can’t push him away. Not now, not when you need him the most.”

  I bury my head against my brother’s chest, and whisper, “I will. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. In time, maybe. Just not now. Promise me, you won’t tell him, Christian. I can’t have him look at me the way he was doing at the hospital, that’ll be what breaks me.”

  “I promise,” he murmurs.

  “Someone help me! Help me!” I scream. Hoping someone will hear me.

  A punch hits the left side of my mouth. Pain immediately floods my face.

  “Shut the fuck up. No one can hear you over the music. This can be easy, or it can be rough. It’s your choice.”

  “Someone help me! Help me!” I scream until my voice is hoarse.

  “Look what you made me do. You were perfect, now you are flawed,” he growls.

  I struggle to get free, but he slams me against the wall again. His right forearm is now around my neck, holding the knife along my throat.

  I feel my body being pushed. “Camryn, wake up. Camryn you’re safe,” his voice echoes in the silent room. “Wake up. You’re okay.”

  I awake with a start and jolt upright in bed, my chest heaving, beads of sweat on my forehead. Trembles rake through my entire body. I look around the room quickly, feeling disoriented. I try to figure out where I am. The lamp on the nightstand is on. Christian is sitting on the side of my bed.

  “You were having a nightmare. You’re safe. He won’t ever touch you again.”

  “How did you get in here? The door was locked.” I stare at him confused.

  “Once I knew you were asleep, I picked the lock.” He points to the floor, where a pile of blankets and a pillow lay. “I slept on the floor. I was gonna leave before you woke up.”

  I stare at him wordlessly. I want to be angry that he snuck in my room, but I can’t. He did it to make sure I was okay. To keep an eye on me, always trying to be my protector.

  “Christian, when will they stop? When will the nightmares stop?” I plead.

  “I don’t know, sis. I wish I did. But I’ll be here to make sure you feel safe enough to sleep.”

  Christian stands. He grabs the covers and motions for me to lie down. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right over there. I won’t leave you.”

  I lie down, pulling the covers up to my chin. “Thank you.”

  JAMIE

  THREE DAYS HAVE passed since Camryn came home from the hospital and I haven’t seen her once. These have been the longest three days of my life. Every attempt to see her has failed, but not for lack of trying.

  I’ve sat outside of her room, talking to her through the door. She never responds or acknowledges that I am on the other side, just a few feet from her. Some days I have sat on the floor with my guitar in my lap singing some of her favorite songs. Songs that I think would make her smile when she hears me sing.

  I know she comes down at night when everyone goes to bed. Christian told me they meet in the kitchen at night. I told him I want to join them, but he insists that I wait for Camryn to let me in. As much as I hate that she won’t open the door, this isn’t about my feelings or what I want. Camryn has to be the one to initiate this on her own terms. So much of the decisions were ripped from her in that room at Redemption that I know I have to allow her the power to make her own choices from here on out.

  Today, just like yesterday and the day before, my back rests against the door with my ass on the carpet, staring at her door.

  “Camryn, baby, will you please let me in?” My voice breaks.

  Nothing . . . silence. The faint sound of music streams out the crack of the door. Gwen said she hasn’t been downstairs during the day since she got home, but she finds dirty dishes in the sink in the morning. I unleash my frustration to Christian every day about how helpless I feel, and he keeps insisting to give her time. She will come around. My patience is running out. Camryn has never pushed me away. I wonder if things hadn’t evolved between us and we were strictly just friends, would she be ignoring me.

  “Baby, can you at least let me know you are okay?”

  Nothing.

  “Can you at least knock on the door to let me know that you hear me?”

  A few minutes pass before there is a faint knock on the door.

  I rest my head on the door, so damn thankful that she’s at least on the other side listening.

  Another day passes, where she won’t let me in. As much as I want to break down the door, I have to respect her wishes. She was raped. She was violated. I can’t force my way in as much as I want. I have to let Camryn be in control of this situation, as much as it is killing me.

  I lean against the wall and slide down it until my ass hits the floor. Reaching over, I grab my guitar, and place it firmly in my lap. I guess it’s another day of me singing to her from the hallway.

  I strum the chords to one of her favorite songs from Boyce Avenue, Every Breath. She loves the acoustic version I play for her. The door rattles behind my back. A small smile appears on my face knowing that she is listening on the other side.

  As I continue to play, each word that leaves my mouth is filled with despair, anguish, and defeat.

  When the song ends, Camryn’s cries ring from the other side of the door. Her tears shatter the last shreds of my control. A stab of guilt lays buried within my heart. I failed her. I should have been there to protect her. Tears slide down my face, but I quickly brush them away. She can’t know that I am dying inside along with her.

  “Don’t give up on me, Jamie, please.” A faint whisper embraces me.

  “Never . . . I won’t ever give up on you, I promise. I’ll be right here, waiting until you’re ready to let me back in.” A hot tear rolls down my face. I pray that I sense a crack in her fragile control and she lets me in to take care of her soon.

  It’s now been eight days since Camryn’s attack. Every day I go to see her and every day she refuses to answer her bedroom door. I knock lightly at first letting her know it’s me. When she ignores me, I knock harder. She still ignores me. Her ignoring drives me insane. I knock again on the door. Still no answer.

  Sliding down the wall, I pull my knees up to my chest, and wrap my arms around them. I lay my head down on my knees. “Camryn, open up. It’s me.” She doesn’t answer, not that I am surprised. I lay my head back, resting it against the wall. The events of the last week begin to run through my mind.

  The source of most of our interaction comes in the digital form. I text Cami several times a day. Some go unanswered but most of them she replies. Although, usually short. My patience has run its course. I know she doesn’t want everyone looking at her with pity in their eyes. But it’s me . . . Jamie, her best friend, her boyfriend. A man who loves her unconditionally. I’
m the guy who will never leave her side, no matter how much she pushes me away. I would never look at Cami with anything other than love in my eyes.

  Last night Christian and I went to Aces after working at the studio all day. He told me that I should give her space, but how much space am I expected to give her? He’s assured me she’ll come around. This is more than Camryn being her usual stubborn self. My girl is shutting the world out. She is retreating, pushing everyone away.

  Lincoln isn’t handling things well either. He blames himself for what happened at his club. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. Looks like he hasn’t shaved in days.

  Camryn’s attack has affected all of us in one way or another. Somehow we all blame ourselves.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I get to my feet and retreat to the kitchen where my mom and Gwen are sitting at the island. “She won’t answer?” my mom questions.

  Shaking my head, I pull the stool out. With my elbows on the counter, I lower my head into my hands. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I am supposed to do to help her.” I look over at Gwen. “Can you help me out here?”

  “You keep doing what you’re doing. She will come around. She let me in the room to take drinks and food up to her, but she hasn’t spoken to me since the hospital. Christian said she talked to him the night she came home from the hospital. She hasn’t spoken much since. All I know is that what happened to her is bad, Jamie. It’s really bad. She hasn’t opened up to me.”

  “The girls have been calling and texting her, but she hasn’t allowed them to visit. Morgan has stopped by but Camryn refuses to unlock the bedroom door. Cami told her in a text that she doesn’t want all the sorrowful looks.”

  “I’ve been here every day. I don’t know how much longer I can take her ignoring me. I do what I need to do at the studio with Christian so I can head over here, hoping she will open the door. The band is being supportive of me missing practice. I don’t know how much longer I can last before I knock the door down.”

  Gwen comes over to my side, and places her hand on my shoulder. “I know my daughter needs time. She will talk when she is ready. We are all being patient with her and giving her the space she needs. You, on the other hand, have never been one to sit back and be patient. Especially when it comes to her. Things are different with you, Jamie, they always have been.” She raises her eyebrows at me, and places a kiss on my temple.

  I get up from my stool and exit the kitchen. Taking the stairs two at a time, I knock on Cami’s door. “Open up, Camryn. I’m not going away until you do.”

  Silence greets me as I stand in the hallway. Knocking again, louder this time, “I am going to count to three. If I get to three and this door is not unlocked, I am going to take it off the damn hinges. One . . . two . . .” I hear the lock click and the door opens. A disheveled Camryn turns before I can see her face. I walk in her room, and spot the flowers I sent her on her dresser. Camryn climbs back in her bed and pulls the covers up under her chin. Seeing how she looks crushes me into a million pieces. A suffocating sensation tightens my throat. The pain in my heart becomes a sick and fiery gnawing. I’ve never seen her look so destroyed.

  My feet lead me to her bed without even thinking. Sitting on the side of the bed, I brush a piece of hair away from her face, placing it behind her ear. It breaks my heart when she flinches and then I realize the last man to touch her, other than the plastic surgeon, was that monster. “I’ve respected your wishes for as long as I can, I can’t do it any longer. Camryn, please don’t push me away. Let me be here for you. I don’t know what it is I can do to help, but please don’t push me away.” Tears streaming down my face, my emotional pain just as prevalent as her physical scars.

  Camryn looks up at me. Her eyes have a burning, faraway look in them. Raw hurt glitters in her hazel eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Jamie. I thought pushing everyone away was for the best. I want everyone to remember the fun, energetic Cami. Not the broken, beaten Cami. Everyone knows I was raped. You know I can’t handle that, Jamie. I just want my face to heal, then maybe I’ll be able to face everyone. But right now, I know what I look like,” she says with a wavering voice.

  “Okay. Whatever you want to do, I’ll respect, but please don’t shut me out. I need to be here with you before they commit me.”

  She throws the covers back and climbs out of her bed. “We need to talk about you and me.”

  My heartbeat picks up. What does she mean we need to talk about us? I stand from the bed walking to her. I take her hands in mine, intertwining our fingers. “Look at me, please,” I ask.

  She brings her eyes to meet mine. “What do you mean we need to talk about us? What are you getting at, Cami?”

  Tears form in her eyes. She looks up at the ceiling and when she meets my eyes again, the tears trail down her face.

  “There is distance between us now. I know I’m to blame for that. I’m pushing everyone away. The thought of you touching me . . . scares me. I need you so badly. I yearn for your comfort. So many days that you were outside my door, I wanted to beg you to hold me, to make the memory of his touch to go away. But at the same time, the thought of having your hands on me terrifies me.”

  I pull my hands away from hers and gently wipe her tears away. She closes her eyes when I cup her face and tilt it up. “Please, look at me.”

  She opens her eyes to meet mine. “You are my girlfriend but you are my best friend. I will always be here for you, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, we will get through this . . . together.” I say, my voice breaking.

  Her chest rises and falls. I know this is not easy for her. With everything she is going through, our relationship should be the furthest thing from her mind.

  “I can’t promise you that. He robbed me of all my power and humanity that night. I struggle every day to try and figure out who I am now.” She shrugs her shoulders, and tears puddle in her eyes.

  With my voice barely above a whisper, “Do you need more time? Tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want or even what I need.”

  Cami pulls away from me and paces the room. I don’t say anything as she continues to wear a hole in the carpet. She turns to look at me, and my heart breaks. The pain in her eyes tells me everything I need to know.

  She sits on the end of her bed and pats it for me to sit next to her. Her cold hands take mine. Her face clouds with uneasiness. She becomes more uncomfortable as the minutes grow.

  Pain seethes in her eyes and I can’t be the cause of any more pain she has to endure. “We just started seeing each other, Jamie. This is a lot to handle. And this is my burden to bear, not yours. It’s not fair to you. I don’t want this to end, but I understand if you do.” A few tears run down her cheek. She ignores them and picks at the bed of her nails.

  “Look at me, Cami, because I’m only saying this once. You are not a burden to me. You are my girlfriend and my best friend. Nothing, and I mean nothing will change that. No matter how long it takes you to recover, I will be by your side. Do you hear me?”

  She simply nods, but I continue on.

  “Please, stop with the ‘I deserve better’ bullshit. I want you and only you.” I lean in kissing her forehead, then her nose. She doesn’t pull away, thank God.

  A pained smile teases her lips. “Just please don’t ask me to talk about it, Jamie. I can’t do that yet. Not with you at least.”

  I lean down to look Cami in the eyes. “What do you mean you can’t talk to me?”

  The hurt and longing lay naked in her eyes. She looks away from me. Taking my finger, I gently place it under her chin. “Talk to me.”

  She bows her head, her body slumps in despair, unshed tears about to erupt from her well of sadness and pain. “I can’t talk to you about what he did to me. Imagine the worst, Jamie. You know what condition I was in when Lincoln found me. If you knew what he did to me, you would never be able to look at me the same. Everything . . . wou
ld change.” She wipes the tears away.

  When she tries to speak, her voice wavers, “I can’t handle that right now. I’m barely hanging on. I struggle with how you look at me now already. I can’t promise you I’ll ever be ready to open up to you.” Her expression is grim as I watch her.

  A suffocating sensation tightens my throat. How could she think that? I try to push my anger away, to see Cami’s point of view. To see why she would say this. I take a deep breath in before I speak. My hand moves gently to stroke her cheek. “Nothing you say will change how I feel about you. Nothing.”

  My mom, Gwen, and Christian sit around the island, their eyes fixed on me as I come down to grab some snacks. “So . . . I’m assuming she let you in?” Christian says with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah, she let me in after I threatened to take the door off the hinges. She told me she can’t tell me what happened yet. She’s taking a shower. I told her I would grab some snacks, and head back up to hang out for a while. I figure I can work on the new piece with her and maybe get her mind on something else.”

  “Let me make the two of you a sandwich.” Gwen digs through the refrigerator, placing the lunchmeat and mayo on the counter.

  My mom pats my arm. “Be patient with her, Jamie. She will talk when she is ready. Don’t push her.”

  “I know, Ma. I just want to spend time with her. Help her get through this. I just got her as mine, I refuse to lose her.”

  A huge smile emerges on her face. “I always knew the two of you would end up together. It just took you kids some time to figure it out.”

  Once Gwen finishes with our sandwiches, I grab my guitar, and throw it over my shoulder. The door to Camryn’s room is still open, so I just walk in.

  Camryn startles, standing with the towel tightly secured around her body, revealing the bruises on her chest above her breasts. The bruises are now a shade of light green with a yellow tint to them. I can only imagine what they looked like ten days ago. She stands frozen, surprise siphoning the blood from her face. As if she realized what I’m seeing, she lifts her arms to cover the marks on her chest.