by Mann, Marni
“You can hate me all you want,” Ryder said, “but you have no right to take this out on Charlie. She doesn’t deserve it.”
Cameron’s eyes followed Lora as she moved toward the elevator and he waited for her to get inside before he said, “Do you have any idea how much I hate knowing that you’ve fucked the woman I love?”
My stomach began to churn, and my hands started to shake. My knees were threatening to drop my weight. I leaned against the nearest table and took deep breaths, trying to calm everything that was screaming inside me.
Love.
He’d never said it to me. But now he’d said it to Ryder, in reference to me…it was almost as if I wasn’t in the room at all.
“The woman you love?” Ryder repeated. “What the hell do you know about love, Cameron? You treat her like shit now. You haven’t talked to her in weeks, you haven’t slept in the same bed with her. You don’t even acknowledge her anymore, and yet you claim you love her?” He shook his head. “I don’t think you know how.”
Cameron’s jaw clenched again. “How is this any of your goddamned business?”
Ryder laughed. “How is it not? You just said it yourself: you can’t stand it that I’ve fucked the woman you love. It’s because of me that you’re in this fucked-up situation.”
Cameron ran his hands over his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t know what to do?” Ryder mocked. “Then I think the only proper thing for you to do is to step aside. Maybe you don’t know how to show her how you feel, but I do.”
Cameron’s eyes flashed, like he’d never considered the possibility of that before. He turned to face me. “Is that what you want, too?” he asked me. “Do you feel the same way about him?” I saw nothing but pain in his eyes.
“I”
“You don’t have to answer that, Charlie,” Ryder said, interrupting me. “He already knows the answer.”
It had taken time for it to happen, but Cameron had become my home. It was something we’d built, something we’d moved toward. It hadn’t come easy, but I always believed it had been worth the effort. But now, nothing about him resembled that anymore. This space made me feel like a stranger. I no longer felt sick. I felt solitary.
Maybe he didn’t know what to do, but I did.
I looked at Ryder. “Thank you for having my back tonight. I’m glad at least someone in here did.” Then I looked at Cameron. I didn’t try to read his expression, his stance, or his thoughts anymore. I no longer cared to. “I’m sorry for the things I said to Lora. She probably didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Then again, I really wish you hadn’t been painting her tits when I came in here, either, so...”
“Charlie, please,” he pled.
I wouldn’t let him continue. “I want to be clear about this: I’m not leaving because of her, or her tits or her painting. I’m leaving because I’ve waited every single night in that bed—our bed—hoping you would come to me and make this all right. You never did. I was in there all by myself, alone, completely empty, blaming myself for all of this, and you didn’t even care. You said you forgave me, but honestly…I don’t believe you’ll ever be able to.”
“Charlie”
“No, Cameronlet me finish. You promised me you would never shut me out, that you would never turn away from me. But when we’re faced with our first real challenge—personal and painful and real— you slammed the door right in my face. This has gone on for weeks, and I’m not putting up with it anymore. I think you’ve made your decision clear. It’s about time I do the same.”
“You’re leaving,” he whispered.
I thought of Ryder’s tattoo. Always Stay True To You.
I nodded. “I can’t change the way you see me.” I pushed off the table; I needed to get out of here before the tears took over. But I had one more thing I needed to say. I still hadn’t taken my father’s advice. I needed to now. “I really did love you, Cameron. I thought that was going to be enough for us to overcome whatever shadows or secrets were cast over us. I guess I was wrong. The shadows and the secrets win.” I glanced at Ryder. I could see his pain, too, spread across his face. He knew I loved his brother, but hearing me say it was something completely different, I guess. I tried not to look at Cameron. I was afraid I’d change my mind, and that was the last thing I wanted to do at that point. “I’m going to pack up a few of my things and then I’ll be gone. I’ll be back tomorrow to get the rest of it.” I turned and walked.
“Charlie, don’t go.”
I knew which Hardy brother had said that, but I didn’t care to justify it to either of them by complying. I had to leave…for me. There was nothing that would make me change my mind.
Once I was in the bedroom, I grabbed one of my bags from the closet and I filled it with something to sleep in, and an outfit for tomorrow and some cosmetics. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t really care.
I just needed to get out of that apartment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“YOU KNOW I CAN HANDLE A CERTAIN LEVEL of sweat and funk,” Dallas said. “But this, Charlie? This is beyond even my limits. You really need to take a shower.”
“I will,” I told him, without looking away from the canvas. “Just as soon as I finish this piece.” I wiped my eye with the back of my hand and felt paint smear across my cheek as I pulled my fingers away. And that wasn’t the only acrylic residue on my face; it joined the crust of ebony on my forehead and a streak of dark slate at the corner of my mouth. Globs of both colors were dried under my fingernails and across my neck.
It had been over a week since I’d moved into Dallas’s apartment— and I hadn’t changed my clothes that entire time. I’d set up a studio just to the side of his couchwhich was also my bed. My clothes were still in suitcases that covered most of the floor space. I hadn’t used my cosmetics since I’d arrived, but they took up almost every bit of the bathroom counter. He promised he didn’t mind the invasion, and I promised I was going to get my own place soon. But the truth was I couldn’t stand the silence when I was alone. It consumed me; it sucked out every ounce of creativity I felt inside, every trace of love that had arisen in Cameron’s name, every bit of resilience that I’d built since leaving the mansion. I was left in a corner, huddling under my own shadow.
I would definitely move out.
I just didn’t know when.
“Maybe after you’re done we can go out and grab a beer? I need one. I think we both do…and it would be good for us to be surrounded by some different walls for a change.”
I glanced over at him as he sat on the couch, my pillows resting up against one side of him, my laptop and backpack on the other. He had been so patient with me. He hadn’t left his apartment once unless it was for work, knowing his constant presence made me feel a tiny bit better. For the first few days, he’d even slept on one of the chairs in the living room. As much as I tried to muffle my sobs and hide my tears, I hadn’t been able to. But he didn’t force me to talk about them; he simply let me have my sorrow. Honestly, I didn’t know how I felt about discussing it with him anyway. He was my best friend without question, but considering our past, constantly talking to him about Cameron just didn’t feel right.
I set my palette down and dropped my brush in a jar of water. If I waited until the piece was done, we’d never leave the apartment. It wasn’t even close to being finished. I’d probably end up throwing it out anyway. Despite trying to get back in the mood to paint by forcing myself to do the work, it wasn’t coming. “I’m going to get in the shower now.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
I smiled as I passed him on the way to the bathroom, quickly stripping off my stained jeans and tank top and leaving them on the floor next to the shower. As I stepped under the stream, I heard my cell phone ring. I didn’t bother to glance out from the curtain to check who it was. Only Professor Freeman and Dallas had customized ring tones anymoreCameron’s had been changed back to genericand it wasn’t either of
them calling. There wasn’t anyone else I wanted to talk to. I allowed the call to go to voicemail. This had happened so many times in the last week, and I hadn’t bothered to check the messages…or delete any of them. Cameron’s number flashed across my screen at least once a day. So did Ryder’s. I didn’t pick up the phone; I didn’t read their texts, either. There was no reason to. When I had walked out of that apartment, I had walked out of their lives.
Eventually, I knew they would both stop calling, and the feelings that struggled within me would hopefully start to fade. They still pulsed and throbbed regularly, reminding me that I wasn’t fully in control of my emotions yet. But I knew in order for me to move on, I had to find a way to breathe without thinking of his warmth, to plan my future without depending on his emotional support, to be in Professor Freeman’s office without praying that his name wouldn’t come up or that I would run into him there.
There was no more Cameron, and there would never be again.
It was almost unfathomable.
I wondered if maybe I needed to scatter something, like I’d done with Lilly’s ashes, to finally accept that we had truly come to an end.
As little as I wanted to admit it, I couldn’t deny it anymore.
***
Dallas and I sat in a booth in the very back of the bar. It was one I’d never been to before, just a dive beer shack that was a block from his apartment. It was off-season for him, so he was only working in the afternoons, training the guys who didn’t leave town for the summer. That meant he could sleep off his hangover in the morning…and we were well on our way. He’d ordered several rounds of shots in between the beers. At some point, the waitress had brought us burgers to eat, but we’d just picked around them as we drank. We were more interested in liquor than food. It had been a long time since I’d completely let go and let another substance control me. I didn’t do it often after growing up in the house that I did, watching booze and drugs not simply control Lilly, but own her outright. Tonight, though, I needed something to dull the edges.
“You want my opinion?” Dallas asked.
So far, we’d avoided talking about Cameron and Ryder all evening. I wanted to keep it that way. I knew I couldn’t.
“No.” I took a sip of my beer. “But I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me anyway.”
“Good call.” He took a shot. “I think you’re being stupid. He obviously wants to be with you; he’s been calling you non-stop since you left his place.”
“I know. I’ve seen the voicemails.”
“So why are you being such a hard-ass?”
“Because of Ryder.”
His brows rose. “You actually want to be with Ryder?”
“No.” I had thought about being with him, though, about what it would be like if we were a couple outside of the mansion. It wasn’t like he could just completely disappear from my head in the course of a week. He even haunted my dreams…obviously there was something keeping me from moving past him. But I wanted Cameron, not Ryder. No matter how much he stayed in my head, he could never be anything more to me than just Cameron’s brother. “But in Cameron’s eyes—and in the mansion, too—I already have been with him. Whenever he looks at me, that’s all he’ll see. I don’t know how he couldn’t.”
“So what about Lora, then?”
I didn’t get where he was going. “What about her?”
“Do you think you’d see the same with her when you look at him?”
I shook my head. “But she isn’t my sister.”
“True. But you hate her for having a history with him, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“And she’s still very much in your lives, even though you’d rather not have her there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I didn’t want her there, but I allowed it. It’s an entirely different thing, though.”
“You just make up your own rules to suit your excuses, don’t you? This isn’t the Charlie I know.”
“Oh no?” He was starting to piss me off. “And which Charlie do you know, Dallas?”
“I know the new Charlie—the one who confronts her demons and moves past them. What you’re doing is what the old Charlie would have done: cower in the corner, give up on herself. Throw away happiness in favor of self-pity.” He knew me too well. “The new Charlie is too fearless, too honest—too aware of what she wants for herself—to let things fall apart.”
I downed the rest of my glass. “That’s not true.”
“Really?” He signaled for another round. “You were ready to move out of the country to escape the mansion—in other words, run away from your problems—and instead you convinced your father to turn over all the evidence he had to bring that place to its knees, putting both of your lives at risk in the process. And when the dust had settled, you went after your career at full bore. And you went after Cameron. You faced everything…you gained everything. And now you’re ready to throw everything away again.”
He was absolutely right. “Yep. I’m a fucking mess.” The waitress arrived and brought our next set. “I can’t even squeeze a painting out anymore. Did you see that piece I was working on earlier? It was shit… total, absolute shit.”
He downed another one. “And your hygiene isn’t winning any awards, either.”
I wanted to laugh at that, but I was too numb. “I don’t know where I went, Dallas. But I want to find me again.” It sounded ridiculous. But it was totally true. “I really believe that I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t even know if I deserve to be.”
Dallas just stared at me. “Bullshit.” He was way too honest when he was half-drunk. “You know exactly how to be happy…and no matter what Lilly made you believe, you deserve to be happy. The question is do you really want to be happy.”
I knew that question was supposed to come with an obvious answer, but I wasn’t sure if I had one. Lilly had made it almost impossible to identify happiness in our household; I really hadn’t felt it until Emma came into my life. And when she left me, sex gave me those brief bouts of pleasure and it was enough to hold me until my next orgasm…which always came shortly after my first. Until the truth came out, I had found enjoyment at the mansion. But nothing compared to how I felt when I was with Cameron. When my love for art combined with my feelings for him, euphoria spread through me. Those were the best moments. But now the mansion was looming over me, casting its shadow and sucking the happiness out of everything. Its effect on my life was now permanent; I could never take back what had happened with Ryder, no matter how much love I made with Cameron.
I wanted to feel that level of bliss again.
I just didn’t know how it would be possible.
“Yes…I want to be happy,” I answered.
He tipped his head. “Then be happy. You know how to get there; you just have to let go of the fear of being there.”
The waitress delivered two more mugs of beer and two more shots of tequila, which I didn’t remember ordering. We held the shot glasses up in the air.
“To love?” he asked.
“Nope. I think I’ve had enough of that for now.”
He smiled and shook his head a little, his eyes slightly red from all the liquor. “You haven’t had nearly enough; you’re just starting out. It only gets deeper and more painful.”
“More painful?” I didn’t know how I’d stand it.
“You’ll learn…soon enough, you’ll learn.”
“No more learning.”
His smile grew even wider. “To learning!” he said, a bit too cheerfully for my mood. “And to Cameron—and to love, even if you say ‘no’.” He knocked back his shot and slammed the glass on the table. “And to you being happy…because when you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Whatever you say.” Since he’d already drank his, I threw my head back to take the full shot. Unlike the first few, it didn’t even burn when it went down. Nothing burned. I had completely lost feeling in my body.
And I liked it.
&nbs
p; CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“CHARLIE, BABY…CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
There was a heaviness behind my eyes that extended all the way to my sinuses and around the back of my head. Every few seconds, the dull throb that ached in those same places increased to a sharp stab. Then the process repeated. I stayed as still as I could. Swirls of gray and silver mixed with the blackness behind my closed lids, circling and rocking like the swaying of a boat. I heard my name; my stomach just didn’t want me to respond to it.
I had a feeling it wasn’t even morning yet and my hangover was already taking over my whole body. I never wanted to drink again.
“Charlie,” the voice repeated.
It sounded so much like Cameron: his deep tone, the heat from his breath. Maybe he was the reason I didn’t want to open my eyes. Maybe I wanted to really believe he was with me, his love keeping me still and calm.
“Charlie, I’m starting to worry…open your eyes for me, baby.”
I gave in, allowing the light to slowly trickle in and the pain to intensify. The dull throb was gone, replaced with the full-time stabbing. I wiped the corners of my eyes and scanned the floor in front of me. But I didn’t get far before I met those familiar icy irises.
Cameron really is here...
My whole body stiffened. I sat up quickly and wrapped my arms around my knees. I wasn’t just trying to protect myself; I was trying to keep down all the liquor as it was threatening to rise. “What are you doing here?”
He exhaled heavily. “I need you back, baby. I can’t live without you.”
My vision became a little clearer when I heard that. I saw the kitchen light shining on the pizza box that Dallas and I had picked up on our way home. I didn’t remember eating any of it, but I could taste the sauce and pepperoni in my mouth. I didn’t even like pepperoni. It was making me gag a little. The lamp on the end table shone directly onto Cameron’s face as he kneeled on the floor in front of me. He was dressed in my favorite dark jeans, and a black T-shirt that clung to his tight, defined chest.
