by Wyatt, Dani
It was only a matter of time before he showed up, or someone from his organization showed up, with one hand out and the other ready to dole out what was sure to be a punishment intended to make an impression.
“You scared me.” Victoria’s face flushed ruby red as her heart took a turn from fear to frenzy as Cameron stared her down.
Looking over her shoulder and second guessing every step she took became like breathing for her.
As far back as her memory would allow, there was always someone lurking.
If it wasn’t Roger, bitter and looking for a scapegoat, it was some bully at school calling her fat or moo’ing at her down the hall. If it wasn’t the trolls in high school, it was grown men at the gym looking at her longer than they should, and now, it was a debt collector uninterested in excuses or promises.
She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t wake with a burden of some worry or shame. How many kids walked into a room and looked around to be sure they had an exit plan, someplace to run and hide and cover their head if needed?
It was no way for her to live. And it certainly had been no way for a child to live.
As a little girl, she’d rarely slept a full night in her bed. Usually she woke up to gather a pillow and a blanket and take refuge in the back corner of her closet surrounded by her stuffed animals.
Sometimes it was the sound of Roger battling his demons after a night of whiskey and who knew what else that drove her into the safety of the small space.
Other times, it was the memory of the monster in the red satin shorts or some other imaginary demon comprised of a multitude of fears gathered over her short lifetime. The only safety she felt was when he was near, but that came with its own price.
Cameron moved slowly, his eyes looked so tired. How such a monstrous presence could move so smoothly, so silently, was a mystery.
She let her eyes take him in, just as a moment ago she looked at her own reflection. His ever present blue hoodie hung unzipped, the crisp white t-shirt underneath stretched beautifully over the square of his chest. She imagined her hands pressing across the smooth surface.
His face told his own story of years of bitter battles against his monsters. Larry had abandoned the boys completely after Emily died. Oh, he lived in the house, but he wasn’t there. Lost in a case of Bud, or sharing the whiskey bottle with Roger, the boys were refugees in their own home.
“Sorry. I’m gonna watch Asher fight.” Cameron’s blue-white eyes looked heavy as he softened a bit and leaned into the wall.
Victoria felt the tug in her gut as the smooth, hard lines of his face picked up the shadows from the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead. He was beautiful and sad. Like a tiger caged far too long at the zoo.
So much potential, such majesty in his size, the cut of his jaw, the way those eyes made you forget to take your next breath.
“Good. He’s missed you.” Victoria exhaled, ready to chastise him again for being gone, but shook off the need for more unpleasantness. “Hey…” Her voice caught for moment, but she managed a smile and looked up at his eyes.
“What?”
“I got a show.” An unusual sensation bubbled just below the surface. It was as close to joy as she knew.
“Really? Fuck, that’s awesome, Vic.” Cameron cracked that wayward, crooked smile — brilliant white with that chipped front tooth showing for just an instant — and Victoria felt her belly spin like a carnival ride.
“It’s nothing big. Just this little gallery. I’ll probably not sell anything…” Her constant self-doubt wouldn’t even allow her to enjoy her moment.
“What the fuck? Are you kidding me? That’s amazing. Don’t do that. You should be proud of yourself. I’m fucking proud of you. I want to go. Where is it? When?”
“Like four weeks. Right after Thanksgiving into the beginning of December. Good shopping month, he said.”
“Fuck yeah. If they want your stuff for December, that says a lot right there. Look at you, big shit. Got yourself in some fancy gallery. Pretty soon, you’ll leave the glamorous world of Southside and forget all about us schmucks.”
The curve of his lips and the glint of his teeth turned that carnival ride spinning faster and faster.
“It’s no big deal, honestly. It’s just this little gallery—”
“Stop. Stop doing that. It is a big deal. Just shut up and let it be a big deal.”
“You can’t tell Roger. Or, Larry. Maybe I’ll tell Asher, but God, don’t tell the Dads.” She felt that sense of impending doom.
Like when you are in trouble for something and you know the punishment is coming.
“Fuck. Like I have long conversations over a cup of fucking tea and a couple cucumber sandwiches with Roger and Larry. Fuck, it was bad before I left, now, I’m lucky if they grunt at me.”
Cameron shifted against the wall, cocking one leg in front of the other, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his baggy, faded Levis. “Trust me, I’m not complaining. When those two get to flapping their mouths, all I want to do is leave again. I’ll take the grunts.”
Right on cue, Roger limped into the office, giving Cameron a sidelong glance.
“You coming or what? He’s ready,” he growled at Cameron.
“Yeah. I’m coming.” Cameron winked at Victoria and she felt the muscles in her neck loosen for a moment.
Roger turned, looked at the desk, and then turned his grouse at Victoria.
“Anyone call?” She knew what he was asking, but he was so self-absorbed, he didn’t even bother to think that Cameron was standing there.
“Ummm, not since I’ve been back.”
It technically wasn’t a lie. Topher called while she was out.
Roger leaned on his cane, walked around and Victoria felt her heart stop. She did not yet delete the voice mail, and the small, blinking red light caught his eye.
Without a word, his finger was on the button. Victoria’s voice stuck in her throat, too late — and Topher’s voice came over the speaker.
“Not going to keep waiting. You can’t pay, we’re gonna have a different conversation real soon. There are other ways to settle this. I have some ideas as you know. I’ll see you.”
Victoria’s chest felt like a cinderblock had just arrived, centered and strapped in place.
“What the fuck was that?” Cameron’s smile was a distant memory.
“None of your business. Come on. Asher’s getting ready. Come on.” Roger grunted.
The ‘thump, tap, thump, tap’ of Roger’s quick walk was the only noise in the office.
“Come on.” Victoria’s fingers found the hard muscle of his arm, giving Cameron a squeeze as she walked out behind her father.
“Seriously, fuck. Was that who I think it was?” Cameron kept his voice low as they followed Roger out into the noise of the gym.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing much. Just the usual.” Victoria knew if Cameron got wind of exactly where they stood with Topher, his hackles would rise, and the only possible outcome would have them all changing their names and running for the Canadian border.
Cameron turned and dragged her by the arm back through the office door.
“Don’t play. What the fuck? I know who that fucking was. That’s not ‘nothing’. Topher doesn’t make phone calls like that unless things are getting fucking hot, Vic. Don’t look away from me.”
His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to meet the intensity of his stare.
Her chest felt the weight of that cinderblock. She was not responsible for their predicament, but somehow she was the pawn in the game of men once again.
“They’re in like 70, 80K. I’m not exactly sure how much. It’s a lot.” Victoria drew a deep breath.
The words spilled over her lips even as her brain screamed at her to stop. “It’s bad. As bad as it’s ever been. They’ve skimmed off the gym until the taxes are not paid, there is barely enough for payroll.”
Victoria could feel the tension building like a rumbling volcano in Camer
on’s chest. She could almost hear each thumping beat of his heart as her voice shook and she gushed the river of dark secrets.
There was no exit from the windowless room Roger and Larry had built around them. How was it she had became a spoil of their war?
“Jesus. How long do they have to pay?”
“Not long. It’s been over a month since they paid him anything. He wants it all. They don’t have it. Even if they sold everything…there’s not enough time, and they would still be short. I don’t know what to do. I don’t see any way out.” Her words were coming faster. The reality deepening with each sentence. “I don’t know if he’s going to kill them, or what. But, there’s not much time. He’s come by already. He’s not smiling anymore.”
“Fuck.” Cameron rolled his eyes.
The straps around his heart tightened as waves of tears spilled onto her cheeks.
Victoria immediately wished she’d kept their secrets. Cameron’s brow drew together, the tendons in his forearms created long indents and swells as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“I just want out.” Victoria hadn’t meant to say anything else, but that crazy eyed stare she was getting from Cameron unleashed the words and they ran out of her like a spring mountain stream. “I’m stuck, I’ve done my best to keep things together, but they just won't stop. They’re betting on everything hoping for a big win to set it all straight.” Hot, tiny rivers danced down the swell of her rose cheeks.
Cameron drew her into the blanket of his arms. A momentary illusion of safety, but she knew even her childhood champion couldn’t break the nose of this predator and chase him away with his tail between his legs.
She knew what he was thinking. He was already tensing under her as she listened to the thump of his heart beat in her ear.
“You can’t fix this Cam. Don’t try. You don’t have a dog in this fight. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Fuck, really? You just said that? You should have fucking told me a long time—” His voice caught.
If she only knew the thoughts that were jetting through his head right now about carving the hearts out of the two men that had the unearned title of ‘Dad’.
Cameron felt her mood shift; the softness was gone, and her muscles turned to iron under the strap of his embrace.
“I should have told you a long time ago, right?” Victoria felt the chill come over her. “You weren’t here, remember?”
His arms didn’t loosen, but Victoria felt her words jab at him as he held her tighter than was comfortable. Two different hearts seemed to be beating in her chest. One, filled with fury, regret, and disappointment. The other, aching for exactly what she felt radiating outward from Cameron’s massive frame.
He engulfed her with more than his physical prowess; his possessive energy made her feel safe and trapped at the same time.
“Let go.” She moved her hands to push away. His scent filled her nose and making her feel slightly drunk.
The softness of his t-shirt over the harsh granite of the twitching muscle below beginning a low vibration between her legs.
“Come on. You can’t miss Asher’s fight.” Victoria tugged at his sleeve, dragging her other forearm over her cheeks.
They walked down the dim hall in silence into the echoes of the gym.
“Fuck.” Cameron took a deep breath as the gym floor opened up around him. His shoulders pulled back as Asher’s eyes met his.
He wanted to cheer on his little brother, but his even stronger urge to shove his foot up the asses of both men that flanked him in the ring was going to be hard to contain.
13
Asher bounced up and down in place as his opponent did the same. It was a sparing fight, but both of them looked like they were ready for UFC fight night on HBO. Larry and Roger spoke low instructions and rubbed his face with Vaseline as they shot daggers over to where Cameron stood.
A fight’s a fight whether or not it is in the center ring with spotlights and an arena of screaming fans. Every time you stepped up and knock knuckles with an opponent, sooner or later, someone was the victor and the other the fallen.
Cameron could see Asher darting his eyes toward him, making sure he was watching. He was more nervous than usual, and his opponent stood stone still now, his eyes locked onto the youthful enthusiasm across the ring.
“He really wants you to be proud of him.” Victoria leaned her head and looked up. Cameron’s eyes were already shining as he watched the younger brother he’d took on as his ward for most of his years.
“I am proud of him. How the fuck he turned out so good is a miracle.”
There was no ref, it was supposed to be a sparring match.
Sure, Asher was dancing around like a butterfly that stings like a bee, probably just more hyped than usual because Cameron stood watching. His opponent outweighed him by at least 30 pounds and about ten years’ experience.
“He ever sparred with this dude before?” Cameron leaned lower toward Vic, his experience and sixth sense had his hackles raised already.
“No. He’s fairly new, came from Boston I think. I’ve watched him a few times. He’s hard, strong, but not well trained or controlled. A cowboy.”
A ‘cowboy’ was a term to describe a fighter than didn’t really follow the unwritten code. Prone to fighting with a win-at-all-costs motto, they didn’t fight pretty and more often than not ended up getting kicked out of club after club.
Her arms crossed over her chest, the crease where her chest came together raising the ire of his inner perv.
If she let him, he would have her back against the wall, holding her still and straight, his face firmly planted between her legs tasting every drop of her flavor until she coated him.
“Cam…hey!” Victoria’s voice admonished him. “You watching? You are Captain ADD. Every two seconds your brain sort of wanders off into your own world. Focus.”
She punched his arm and Cameron heaved out a breath trying to clear his mind.
Sure, fighters fight, but they also had a code, an unwritten set of rules that honored the sport and hopefully kept everyone from serious damage. Cameron felt the thick muscle along his shoulders and back ripple and harden. Something here wasn’t right. This guy was older, stronger, and he looked at Asher like he was his next meal.
Before Cameron could take a step to give Larry a shot across the bow and stop the fight, Roger clapped his hands. He drew back behind the ropes, with a thick, hard cough and a strange glance passed between Roger and Larry.
“Something’s not right,” Cameron spoke to no one in particular as he took two steps forward.
He smelled the sweat and the sickening sweet scent of whiskey and beer from the night before emanating from Larry as he leaned into the ropes.
Asher bounced forward, tapping knuckles with the red wrapped hands of his opponent. The sound of their feet made soft thumps on the mats as they circled each other felt like the drumbeat before a sacrifice.
Victoria felt the wave of tension pass from her and through Cameron as the first three jabs hit the meat of Asher’s cheeks in quick succession. The space close to them filled with the smack of fist on flesh, the moans of sympathetic pain and Larry’s voice.
“Get in there boy! Low, get in low. Don’t let him get his lock on you! MOVE! MOVE!”
Asher’s eyes were already wandering and unfocused. His arms flailed at the air, his opponent easily dodging and moving out of the way of his pathetic attempts to connect.
“STOP THE FIGHT!! STOP THE FIGHT!” Cameron growled like a grizzly; he jerked Larry by the arm, his voice rising above the reverberating sounds of the gym.
But, he was too late. With a smile that showed the crimson rubber of his mouth guard, the arms of Asher’s opponent swung twice.
“Uhhh…” A sickening grunt fell from Asher’s lips along with his blue mouth guard. The quick succession of hits resounded in a ‘thunk, thunk’ on Asher’s head. The powerful blows knocked Asher’s head from left to right and back again.
His brain bouncing around inside his skull like a helpless nut in a jar.
“Why the fuck is he fighting this fucking guy??” Cameron yelled. He threw Larry off the ropes and climbed into the ring, knocking the cowboy back with one elbow to his mouth. An explosion of cardinal red liquid immediately coursing down his chin as Cameron stood over Asher as he convulsed and shook on the floor of the ring.
14
“What the fuck was that? He shouldn’t have been in there with that fucking guy. What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten him killed you drunk fuck!” Cameron squared off with Larry as Asher laid asleep against the bright white pillow.
The beeps and whistles of sensors taped onto Asher’s chest and arms and the sound of nurses softly walking and talking in the background. The ball bearings in the track of the curtain scrapped along the track as it was pulled opened and closed as people moved in and out filled the small space.
“Come on.” Victoria tugged on his arm, but even her power over him was useless.
“Get out. Get him out. I’m the father, and I want him out!” Larry’s words were slurred and his eyes watery and red rimmed, but he still commanded his legal rights with the nurses.
“Cam — they’re going to call security if you don’t go.” Hers was the only voice that could break through the screaming in his head.
“Sir,” the voice of the dark haired young nurse turned from caretaker to enforcer, “I have to ask you to leave. Why don’t you come back later?”
Even through her professionalism, Cameron could hear a hint of sympathy.
Larry smiled.
The fucker’s smiling. Either he’s too dumb to live, or he’s more evil than I thought.
Victoria managed to get Cameron’s legs moving and take him out into the parking lot. The sky had turned to a mass of gray and white, clouds moving over one another in a race to get anywhere but here.
As her fingers touched his back, leading them both out the glass front doors with the word EMERGENCY in foot tall red letters, he felt his body warm. If it wasn’t that fucker of a man that called himself a father making his blood boil, it was her. Same result, very different reasons.
