Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1)

by Yessi Smith

  Marking an end of lies. The finality hits me.

  “Livvy has a show next week. Then, Thanksgiving’s a week after that. I’ve missed too much already.” My voice begs with him, my emotions reprimanding me for the unspoken words that scream the truth. “Please, Santiago. Two weeks with my girls. Let us get to know each other. Then, you and me—we’ll leave. I’ll get clean and come back home to them.”

  Infested with guilt, I conceal the other truth and conform my thoughts, hoping Santiago will take pity on me and let me have a two-week reprieve before we battle my demons.

  “You can’t stay here. Not with your addiction.”

  “I won’t hurt them,” I plead, needing to be near them, for them to give me purpose. “You have to know I’d never hurt them.”

  “Two weeks,” he concedes. His chest heaves, his eyes narrowing. “But I’m keeping the pills with me. I need to know how much you’re taking, because I’m not putting you, my daughter, or my granddaughter in danger.”

  Helpless to my addiction, I chase my deceit and half-truths with a strained smile.

  Reading the emotions crossing over my face wrong, Santiago cups the back of my neck and squeezes. “I’m not going to let you fail, Cam.”

  My eyes cut to him, faith resurfacing, only to be resigned by an addiction I’m powerless to control.

  EIGHTEEN

  YANELYS

  Night clings to the darkness of my bedroom as an impossible silence hangs over Camden and me. So many unknowns remain between us, driving us apart while we continue to pull our bodies closer to one another.

  We don’t know how to talk to each other—not really. This invisible divide pushes us away yet draws us closer to each other.

  I love him. My heart recognizes that love, but I hurt because of him. Olivia will hurt because of him, too, and that’s the hardest part for me to face. I want her to get to know him.

  Her open spirit and easy nature have already accepted him in our lives. When I took her to the side after my parents had left and explained how Camden was going to stay the night, I thought she’d ask questions, but my daughter simply twirled a couple of times and asked if Camden could tuck her in. As we left her bedroom, I took his hand in mine and led him to my bed where we’ve been trying to talk before he has to go back into his bedroom. I’ve asked him questions that have gone unanswered, and felt him inch away from me through the silence.

  Dropping his face to the inside of my neck, he pulls me closer to him, and I feel his heart beating against mine.

  “Cam,” I say.

  He releases a desperate breath that brushes over my neck, making it tingle.

  “I just want to know what’s going on.” Fisting my hands into his shirt, I hold on to him.

  We used to sleep like this, our bodies molded against one another, and in each other’s arms, we’d find rest. But tonight…tonight, restlessness vibrates off his skin, making cold sweat drip down his back and chest.

  “Migraines.” His voice quakes.

  I move my face closer to his, placing a tender hand on his chest.

  “They come on suddenly like this. I just need my pill.”

  Worry drapes over me while my blood races as he trembles beneath my touch.

  “Where are your pills, baby?” I whisper, my lips grazing over the stubble on his chin. “I’ll get them for you.”

  “No!” he shouts, the word filled with ferocity, as his fingers wind around my wrist. “I’ll get them.”

  Unsettled, I turn on the lamp and track him as he stumbles off the bed to the bag he brought from the hospital. His hands search frantically through the bag until he pulls out the same jeans he wore earlier. His face crumbles, and he shuts his eyes just before he puts the pill into his mouth and swallows it dry.

  Seconds tick by, the pulse in my throat keeping time while I wait. His blue eyes, dark from his pain, search my face.

  “Come to bed, Cam,” I say. When he looks at my bedroom door, I turn off the light. “No more questions,” I promise before he can escape. “I just want to sleep with you.”

  On shaky limbs, he comes back to bed where he drapes an arm around my waist and brings me close to him. Feeling him shiver, I pull the sheets over us and run my fingers through his long hair. Rather than close his eyes, he watches me, the weight of his intensity making me blush.

  “You always take care of me,” he murmurs. “I’ve never asked you to, but you do it anyway.”

  Hurt flashes in his eyes, crushing me, as the flame behind them dies out.

  “I’ve given you every reason not to,” he whispers, misery pulling his lips down.

  His eyes flutter closed when I trace a gentle finger over his lips.

  “We take care of each other,” I say.

  He shakes his head, denying all the comfort he brought me growing up.

  “I’ve done so much bad in my life, Yan. Things I don’t want you to ever know. It scares me, what I’m capable of. Even now, I’m ruining your life, but I can’t leave you. I can’t survive again without you. Without Livvy. But with all this bad”—his eyes open, intense and raw—“I don’t know how to be with you, how to breathe the same air as you.”

  “You’re doing it right now.” Swallowing hard, I pull him impossibly closer to me, thankful when I notice he’s shaking less.

  “I don’t deserve to.”

  “You deserve happiness and love. The unfiltered kind only we can give each other.”

  “No.” His pained voice tears at my heart, stealing the beauty of today, the day Camden came back into my life.

  “Why don’t you let me decide what you deserve?” My whispered voice blends with the darkness cloaked around us, spoiling our night.

  My slender fingers glide over his skin, his scars, marred by an abusive past neither of us knew how to escape. Still my fearless knight, he places a hand to my chest, squeezing them to a fist over the thumping of my heart.

  Where his wounds are visible, mine lie just below the surface. But with him back, my cracked heart fills with the love we’ve always shared. And although my heart warns me to be careful, I know I’m already in too deep for caution. Where Camden’s concerned, I’ve always been in way too deep.

  A rush of air flees from my lungs when Olivia jumps on top of me. Still groggy from a restless night, I roll her to the side, hoping she’ll give me a few more minutes of sleep.

  “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” Her melodic voice rings out, making my lips curve into a small smile. “Cam’s already making us breakfast.”

  My eyes flutter open, and I take in the morning with newfound exuberance. The sun caressing my bedsheets shines more radiant than ever. The haze of dawn is more blissful than yesterday’s. Magic impresses on us, making Olivia bounce in anticipation.

  Camden’s home. Her daddy’s finally here.

  I take Olivia with me when I jump out of bed, twirling her in the air once before I set her back on her agile feet.

  “He makes the best chocolate chip pancakes.” My eyebrows raise.

  She giggles at the expression on my face.

  “I’ll race you to the kitchen. Whoever loses cleans the dishes.”

  Not waiting for her to reply, I sprint toward the kitchen, her laughter chasing me, filling me, just like it always does. When we round the corner, Nisa barks at us, her butt wiggling in greeting.

  “That dog”—Camden points the spatula at a grinning Nisa—“is gonna give me a heart attack.”

  “You’ll live.” Moving past him, I pat his shoulder, and he sends me a lingering glare.

  Losing myself to him all over again, the ground shifts, caving beneath my feet. For a moment, our eyes narrow in on one another, and he cocks an eyebrow when my cheeks redden. He sets the spatula down, and after one long stride, he’s standing next to me, invading my space with his scent. Without hesitation, he stretches his arms and places his hands against my waist.

  “Never knew a blush could be so sexy.” His voice rasps against my cheek, making my blush
deepen.

  Raw anticipation builds in my core, and I exhale a sharp breath when he rubs his rough knuckles over my cheek.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers, his breath tickling my lips as he draws near them.

  With his hands back on my waist, he tugs me to him, and I fall onto his chest. A strong rhythmic heartbeat thumps against me while I place my arms around his thin waist.

  “Are you gonna kiss like Ita and Tito do?” Olivia asks, calling my parents by the nicknames she gave them when she was a year old. “’Cause that’s really gross.”

  Camden’s laughter erupts from his chest, and I press a hand to my lips, savoring the sound as it ruins me in the most amazing way.

  “Livvy, sweetie”—Camden kneels down in front of her and gathers her in his arms—“I plan on kissing your mom a whole lot. I hope you’re okay with that.”

  Olivia settles in his arms without any misgivings and peers up at him with the innocence of youth. His fingertips brush along her jawline. As our daughter slowly accepts her dad into her life, my heart crashes behind my rib cage in violent happiness.

  Walking back to the forgotten pancakes, I let Camden and Olivia have their moment. There’ll be questions when we finally tell her the truth, but we’ll get to those in time. For now, my family is complete. Joy radiates off every inch of my kitchen.

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I watch them interact once he places Olivia on the kitchen counter, farthest away from the stove. Adoration pours from his eyes as he devours her constant chatter. The pangs of the night before disappear as the purity of the moment seeps in its place.

  Olivia peeks around Camden to me, shifting her eyes when she catches me watching them. When he pushes away her overabundance of wild hair and whispers something in her ear, she giggles.

  “Whatever you two are planning, it isn’t going to work,” I warn.

  Neither of them pays me any attention as they conspire against me.

  “I feel like an intruder in my own home,” I say.

  A trace of a smile lifts at the corners of Camden’s mouth when he finally turns to face me.

  “Can I take Livvy to the grocery store after breakfast?” Camden asks, his sweet smile a direct contrast to Olivia’s devious one.

  “Please, Mom.” Olivia bounces off the counter and dances in front of me.

  “Well…” I draw out. My teeth clamp down over my bottom lip as my eyes narrow at my little girl. “Who’ll do the dishes while you’re at the grocery store?”

  “I’m a kid, Mom, not your maid,” she sasses, her lips spreading into a huge grin.

  “You’re a brat.” Twirling her around, I lightly smack her bottom.

  She sends a glee of giggles and squeals into the open space of our kitchen. Out of breath, I sit on the floor and gather Olivia onto my lap.

  “Is that a yes?” Camden asks.

  I arch a brow at Olivia, who makes a show of rolling her eyes.

  “If you do the dishes this time, I’ll do them after lunch and dinner. Deal?” Olivia asks, her voice begging me to give in this once.

  “I can live with that,” I agree.

  “Can we try some of Cam’s world-famous chocolate chip pancakes now?”

  “World-famous, huh?” Camden questions.

  Olivia scurries around him, putting place mats on the kitchen nook.

  “Don’t let it get to your head.” After grabbing a kitchen towel, I throw it in Camden’s direction, but he catches it before it hits his face.

  “I can’t believe I’m gonna have chocolate for breakfast,” Olivia whispers, awe spreading in her light-brown eyes.

  There’s a lot I can’t believe, starting with Camden.

  He’s here, yet it’s like he’s occupied somewhere else. Fading. Sometimes slowly. I keep waiting to turn around and find him gone, but then he comes back.

  He smiles at Olivia, grounded by his tribulations and her tender love.

  I hold on to him, wanting to bind him to us, to have him worn into the fabric of our souls. I want him for a lifetime, but I’ll take whatever fleeting moments he has to offer.

  NINETEEN

  CAMDEN

  Cramped, the walls of the grocery store push against me, and I brace myself, placing my hands on Olivia’s shoulders. Eyes bore into me, staring, judging, circling around me and the little girl I helped create.

  “Livvy”—I lick my dry lips—“why don’t you look at the flowers we’re gonna buy your mom while I talk to my friend?”

  Pure and good, she puts her undisputed belief in me and the notion that I’m a trustworthy man, and she ambles off toward the flowers. A current of cold air whips around me as the store’s air conditioner kicks on. I put my hands in my jeans pockets and stare at anyone but Pastor Floyd.

  “You have a daughter,” Pastor Floyd accuses.

  Emotions grow thick between us, and I turn my eyes to my child. My daughter.

  “I didn’t know.” I swallow the lump in the base of my throat. “I swear, I didn’t know.”

  “You know now.” His eyes narrow, and his cheeks flush. “This?” He takes out the bottle of pills I asked him to bring me and shakes it in front of my face. “This has to stop. I can’t do this anymore.”

  Pastor Floyd paces in front of me, waging his ongoing war between what’s wrong and what’s worse.

  Yanelys thinks she’s seen the worst of me, the worst of my parents, but only Pastor Floyd has. He was there the day my world crumbled with truths I’d have rather stayed hidden. And he’s been there every day since.

  He doesn’t want to enable me; he wants to help me because he’s seen my tears and anger and helplessness. He’s seen me grow from that pain, only to have life knock me down again. And again. And again.

  “I’m gonna get clean, Pastor Floyd,” I promise and his eyes widen in shock.

  Never, in all the years I’ve been with him, have I ever uttered those words. Because never, until right now, have they been true.

  “I’m gonna get clean,” I say again.

  Pastor Floyd’s chest heaves as he sucks in a breath. He closes his eyes, squeezing them so tight that a small tear drips from the corner. Scared, desperate, but hopeful, I place my hands on his shoulders and tighten my grip so that he looks back at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper when he opens his eyes, “for everything I’ve done. For everything you’ve done to help me. I’m sorry.” With shame filling my soul, I hang my head.

  “I know,” Pastor Floyd replies. “I want the best for you, Cam. I do. But I don’t know how to help you.”

  “You can’t.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I shove my hands into the pocket of my again.

  Yanelys. Only Yanelys can help me.

  “Santiago knows about my problem, and we’re going on some guys’ trip in two weeks. He says he’s going to help me get clean. Until then, he’s keeping the pills and only giving me one every four hours.” My hand twitches in my pocket, so I close it into a tight fist. “It’s not enough.” Defeated, my voice rises barely above a whisper.

  “Okay.” He nods once and hands the bottle to me. When I move away, he grips my wrist, gaining my attention. “Get clean, Cam. Not for your daughter or for Yanelys. Do it for you. Because you deserve it.”

  My feet feel heavy when I take my first step away from Pastor Floyd and toward Olivia. The weight of the pill bottle burdens me, pulling me down, willing me to tear open my heart and leave it bleeding.

  On one knee, I gather Olivia into my arms, aching for her gentle embrace to heal my sick soul. But my sickness remains, forging its way to Olivia, blemishing her goodness.

  “What do you think about the lilies?” I ask, pointing at the white flowers Yanelys favors.

  “Mom loves these.” Her fingers caress the petals with the same tenderness as her mom.

  I pick out two bouquets, and with Olivia’s small hand in mine, we go to the cash register and pay with the money Pastor Floyd gave me. Outside, a cool breeze greets us, the blue and white
sky spanning like an endless dream. Rather than head to Yanelys’s house, I lead us to a nearby playground where I place both sets of flowers on a bench under a wide tree and then turn to Olivia.

  “Did you know it’s good luck to catch leaves?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “It is,” I say.

  The wind blows harder, making her hair swirl, as the tree shakes above us. Small leaves free themselves from it, floating and dancing their way to the ground. Turning, I open my arms and close my fist when a leaf falls into my waiting hand.

  I position the leaf so that I’m holding it by the stem, and I show it to her. Her eager eyes trace my every movement, and my pulse quickens with her wistful heart.

  “You want to make a wish with this one or catch your own?”

  “Catch my own!” Olivia’s lips curve into a radiant smile, her eyes glowing with joy, as she runs beneath the tree. Her feet crash into small piles of leaves, sending them into the air. Elated giggles paint the sky as she jumps, twirls, and catches as many leaves as her small hands will allow.

  “Okay, Cam!” Breathless, she jogs toward me, stray leaves falling from her grasp. “Now what?”

  “Make a wish.”

  With my eyes closed, I throw my leaf in the air. And wish I weren’t alone. That the emptiness could somehow be filled. I wish for a life I’d left behind but never wished away. For the love of a little girl who didn’t even know who I was.

  Leaves fall on my face, and when I open my eyes, I find Olivia spinning in circles with her eyes closed and her arms open wide. On a whim, I scoop her into my arms, and together, we spin.

  And spin.

  And spin.

  Like a circle, without beginning or end, we spin and spin until we grow dizzy. The ground rocks, shifting on its axis, so I place Olivia on her feet while I lie down on the cool grass. Within seconds, she lies down next to me, nestling her head in the crook of my arm.

  I hesitate before I grip her closer to me. Streaks of light flash behind my eyes as the dizziness squanders away. Sad thoughts and the rough edges of life unblur, making my heart thunder in my ears.