He sighs and then kisses me again.
"You'll come in with me, right?" I ask, turning around in his arms as anxiety churns through me. He has no interest in ever speaking to her again, but I don't want to go alone. He's my strength. He has been since day one.
"I'll be right beside you for as long as you need," he promises, kissing me on the forehead.
I burrow into his arms for a moment, relieved. "Thank you."
He holds me close, his chin resting atop my head. And then he pulls back, tilting my face up to his. "I want to take you somewhere for Christmas when this is over," he says, running his fingertip across my bottom lip like he always does.
"Where?"
"You'll see," he says, smiling at me.
I narrow my eyes at him, but his smile just grows.
"Fine," I grumble, hiding a smile. "Don't tell me then. I don't care."
He jerks me forward when I start to slip away, putting his lips right up against my ear. "Told you a million times about that smart mouth, kitten," he growls, nipping my lobe. "Don't fuck with me or you won't be leaving this room today."
"Promises, promises," I say, burying my face in his shirt to hide a smile.
He growls at me again and then smacks my ass. "Stop fucking with me and get ready to go. I got plans for you later."
"Mrs. Lewis?" a middle-aged female guard calls, stepping through the sally port door into the visitation area where Cam and I are seated. She glances around at the visitors scattered around the room before her gaze falls on us. "We’re ready for you, hon."
My gaze flits between her and Cam, my stomach churning.
"You can do this, kitten," he whispers, squeezing my hand. He lifts me to my feet and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll be right here."
I lick my lips and glance over my shoulder at the guard and then back at Cam. "I love you."
He smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips against mine. "Love you too, kitten."
I glance at him one final time, letting the confidence in his gray eyes steady me, and then I turn and make my way to the guard, wringing my hands together. I'm still so nervous, I feel like I'm going to throw up.
"This way," the guard says politely, pushing the buzzer for the door. Once the control room buzzes the steel door open, we step inside a small, empty room about the size of a closet and wait for the door to close behind us before they buzz us through the next door. My heels click against the floor as we make our way down the empty hallway before being buzzed through another set of sally port doors.
"She'll be on the opposite side of an inch of wire-reinforced, bulletproof glass," the guard murmurs to me as if sensing my nervousness. "There will be someone stationed right behind her the entire time, and I'll be with you. You can leave at any time; all you have to do is say the word and I'll get you out of there."
"Okay," I whisper, not sure if this is what visiting someone in prison is always like, or if Cam set up my visit this way. After having spent two weeks in jail without guards listening in, I have a feeling Cam demanded their presence here today. He wouldn't have let me come back here alone otherwise. Even though Erin is in prison for the next twenty-five years, he still doesn't trust her. And I can't say I blame him for that.
When we reach the visitation area, the guard turns to look at me. "Are you ready?"
I take a deep breath and then nod.
She gives me a reassuring smile and then buzzes us through into the visitation area. It's as nondescript as the rest of the prison. Cinderblock walls separate each visitation booth, with flimsy plastic chairs on each side of the thick window. The bottom of the window has a small vent, allowing those on each side to communicate with one another while ensuring nothing can be passed through. Not that there's even a possibility of that. Cam and I had to hand over everything before they even let us into the waiting area.
My heart leaps into my throat when I see Erin sitting in the fifth booth, staring down at her lap. Her hair is a lot shorter than it used to be. It's stringy, too, like she hasn't seen a good bottle of shampoo in a long time. She's lost weight since I last saw her. Not a lot, but enough that it shows. Beneath the fluorescent lights, her skin looks sallow. The bright orange scrubs she's wearing don't help her coloring. She looks so different than the girl I used to know.
I take tentative steps forward and slide into the plastic chair.
Erin glances up when I'm seated, her blue eyes locking on me.
For a long moment, neither of us says anything. We just stare at each other. A thousand memories of her run through my head. Some of them are of happier times, like when we roomed together and would stay up all night, talking and laughing. Others are darker, like the day she told me that Rory alone was responsible for his death. Memories of Cam holding me in his arms, his face stained with tears while I almost bled to death in her living room are the darkest.
"Hi," she whispers eventually.
"Hi," I whisper back.
She licks her lips nervously. "How are you?"
"I'm okay."
"I'm really glad," she says, and I think she actually means it.
We subside into silence again. Now that I'm here, I don't know what to say to her. Nothing seems adequate enough to describe the conflicting emotions I feel when I think about her. I don't know the right words to explain how much she hurt me, or how many times Cam had to console me when something seemingly innocuous brought me to tears. She pretended to be me to satisfy her own insecurities, and she destroyed me in the process. And I don't think she ever even considered how I would feel about that or what it would do to me.
"This is awkward," she blurts out and then cringes when I flinch, the sound of her voice startling me. "I'm sorry," she whispers, looking down at her hands again.
"It's fine," I lie even though it's really not.
"No, it isn't." She shakes her head and then looks up at me again, tears shining in her eyes. "I've thought a million times about what to say to you if I ever saw you again, and I still don't know how to say I'm sorry for what I did to you. Nothing seems right, you know? I did something terrible, and I hurt you." She swallows hard. "I never meant to hurt you, Ivy."
"But you did," I tell her, clearing my throat. "You tried to kill me."
"I know." A tear rolls down her cheek. "I don't even know why I did it. I just wanted to stop you from telling everyone what I did. I wish I could take that moment back, but I can't. You were my best friend, and I shot you. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. But I am sorry," she whispers, crying openly now. "I'm so, so sorry."
I watch her for a moment. It's strange. At one time in my life, anytime she cried, I wanted to cry too. I felt her pain, and it made my heart ache. But I don't feel that sorrow now. I just feel…relieved. That she's in here and I'm not. That the nightmare really is over and she can't hurt anyone else.
She used to be my best friend, and then she tried to kill me. That will always be a little sad to me, but I don't wish we could go back anymore. I had to learn to live without her because she didn't give me a choice. Somewhere along the way, I learned how to survive. I learned how to be me again. And seeing her doesn't hurt like I thought it would.
I'm stronger now. She made me that way when she tried to kill me.
"I forgive you," I say quietly.
She looks up at me again, her mouth opening and closing.
"I don't understand why you did it," I continue, "and I don't think I ever will. You hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me before and that will never be okay. You were my best friend, and you almost destroyed me. I still can't drive over the Bay Bridge without wondering where Rory jumped from, or if he knows that I'm not the one who told him to do it. I can't walk into a room of strangers without someone recognizing me as the woman from the papers. I can't look in the mirror without seeing the scars across my back. I had to leave Trenton P. Hall because of you. I couldn't even pack my own apartment. Cam had to do it for me, because I couldn't stop crying long enough."
"I'm so sorry," she cries through broken sobs.
"I didn't think I would ever get over what you did to me," I whisper, completely stoic in the face of her anguish. "But I didn't let you break me, Erin. And I didn't come here to ask for an explanation or an apology. There's nothing you can say that will change what you did, and you're the one who has to live with that now. But I want you to know that I do forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to Rory. I forgive you for what you did to me, and to Cam. I forgive you because I'm not you, and I'm not going to live with that kind of anger brewing in my soul, turning me into someone I don't recognize like it did to you."
She whimpers, but she doesn't say anything.
"I don't know what the future holds for you," I tell her, rising to my feet, "but I hope, somewhere along the way, you learn to love the person you were instead of the one you let yourself turn into. Because that person? That person was amazing. That person was my best friend, and I loved her more than anything."
"D…d…" She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "D…do you think we'll ever be friends again?"
Do I?
"I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "You were my best friend, and I miss you every single day, but you tried to kill me. You could have told me how you felt, and I would have done anything to fix it, but you didn't say a word. You almost destroyed me, Erin. I forgive you for what you did, but I don't know if I can ever trust you enough to give you that kind of power again. Maybe that will change some day, but right now, I'm not ready."
She starts crying again, sobbing loudly.
I watch her for a moment, saying a silent prayer that she finds the help she needs to become the person she's meant to be…the one she should have been all along. I don't know if that bright future is possible for her now, but I think, if she's willing to fight for it, she can do better. She's always had it in her. Somewhere along the way, she just let her insecurities blind her.
"Goodbye, Erin," I whisper, and then I turn and walk toward my future. It's one I never envisioned for myself…but it's also one I wouldn't trade for anything.
"Cam," I moan, writhing as his hand comes down against my ass, turning the skin a deep red. Pain and pleasure roll through me in tandem, pushing me toward the brink. My body is on fire, burning for him, but he's torturing me again, making me wait until he knows I can't take it anymore.
"Goddamn, kitten," he growls, grabbing my hips in his big hands and thrusting inside of me. He smacks my ass again and then again, making me buck wildly beneath him. "That's it. Go wild for me, sweetheart."
I do, rocking my hips until I'm fucking myself with his cock, taking him all the way inside before pulling back until the head teases at my entrance and then slamming myself back against him again. Every thrust causes the head of his cock to bump against my cervix, pulling a loud moan from both of us.
"More," I plead with him. "Please, Cam."
"My greedy kitten," he groans, running his fingers between us. He swirls them through our juices and then he presses against my back entrance.
"Oh god," I cry out when he slips first one finger and then another inside of me, filling me full of him.
I love it when he gives me this, claiming every part of me like we both want. Like we both need. Filthy sounds fill the room as he watches me like he always does, his gaze riveted to the sight of me taking everything he gives me, and then begging for more.
The begging does him in every time.
"God, kitten," he says, taking control like I want.
I love when he's rough and wild, pounding into me so hard I know I'll still feel him there tomorrow. Since Erin shot me, he's been so gentle with me, giving me everything I could ever want and more. He's watched me break and helped put me back together a million times, and that's changed him as much as it has me. But when we're here, when we're like this…he knows I'm not fragile. He knows I'm not breakable. He fucks me like he means it.
"You know I can't deny you anything," he groans, fucking me so hard the headboard slams into the wall on each brutal thrust. His words are staccato, breathless. "Never could. Especially not when you plead with me in that sweet voice. That goddamn angelic voice asking me to do filthy things to you is lethal, sweetheart."
"Cam!" I cry out, his words driving me higher.
"You want more, kitten?"
"Yes!"
"I love this pretty cunt," he growls. "It's mine, isn't it?"
"Yes!"
"Then you take what I give you, sweetheart." He releases one of my hips, sliding his hand around my side and then rolling his fingers across my clit. "Fuck, you're so goddamn wet; you're dripping down my balls."
He's not lying. I'm soaked. I always am for him.
"I want all of it," he demands, slapping my clit. "Give it to me."
I cry out, twisting the sheets in my hands as everything inside of me tightens, shrinking. The orgasm barreling toward me is massive, so big I don't know if I can take it. But I will. He'll make me.
"Come on, kitten," he growls, curling his big body over mine so his lips are at my ear. "I want to feel you squeezing my cock when I come. I need it. Fucking give it to me." He bites my shoulder.
I lose it as soon as I feel his teeth in my skin. A scream rips from my lips and I thrash beneath him as a million fireworks erupt inside of me in a brilliant display. Blood roars in my ears and a shower of sparks sizzle and pop in my veins.
"Yes," Cam cries out, slamming himself inside of me in a disjointed rhythm. He yanks me back against him and shouts my name, roaring it into the room as he comes, spurting so hard, I know he's giving me everything he has, too. He always does.
I collapse beneath him, my arms and legs giving out as he grinds his pelvis into me, wringing out every ounce of pleasure from me that he can. He follows me down, caging me in with his big body against mine. His heart thunders against my back, pounding like a jackhammer.
He groans and slides his hands underneath mine, twining our fingers together.
"Fuck, kitten," he pants in my ear, pressing adoring kisses into my skin everywhere he can reach. "You gotta stop begging me for more like you do. I get a little rough with you, and you lose control. My goddamn balls can't handle how hard you make me come when you go wild for me."
I chuckle, the sound muffled by the comforter.
He presses another kiss into my skin and then rolls off of me, taking his warmth with him.
I whine in protest, and then he lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his body. He carries me into the massive tub in our hotel room before sinking down into the water he had the foresight to run earlier.
I moan and snuggle up against his chest, linking our fingers together against his stomach. My gaze lands on the strand of ivy tattooed around his ring finger, making me smile. I have an identical strand tattooed across my ribcage, only mine is bigger, the branches twisted into his name in his bold, elegant script.
"I love you, Cam," I tell him, pressing my lips to his heart, over the sunburst tattoo. He has my name inked inside of it now, right where he says it belongs.
"I love you too, kitten," he murmurs, kissing my forehead.
"I can't believe you brought me to Puerto Rico for Christmas," I say, playing with his fingers. "It's so beautiful here."
"Only because you're here, sweetheart."
"Your grandma is so cool," I whisper, making him laugh at me again. I don't even care, though. She is totally cool, and he knows it. She's eighty, and she rides a freaking motorcycle. She even has a leather jacket that has abuelita, the Spanish word for granny, emblazoned across the back. The woman cooks the best damn pies, too. "I love her," I sigh happily.
"She loves you too," he says, laughter still vibrating in his chest.
"Yeah?" I ask, glad to hear that his grandma thinks I'm awesome, too.
"She asked me when we're going to give her great-grandbabies."
"She didn't!" I laugh, tipping my head back to look up at him.
"She did," he says, smiling. He sl
ips his hand down my body, flattening it against my lower stomach. "It's a good question, kitten."
"What?" I gasp, not sure if he's serious or not. We've talked about having kids before, but decided to wait until I was in a better headspace mentally. I'm there now though. Saying goodbye to Erin last month gave me the closure I needed. Maybe, one day, we will be friends again, but if we aren't…I'll be just fine. I know that now.
He sobers, his expression growing serious. His gaze flits to his hand and then back to my face. "I wanna get you pregnant, kitten. You gonna let me?"
"You're serious?" I ask, even though I know he's serious. It's written all over his face.
"God, yes, sweetheart," he says without hesitation, his eyes heating. His voice drops low. "The thought of seeing you carrying my baby makes me so fucking hard. Need to see you like that. You gonna give me what I want?"
"You want to get me pregnant?"
He nods.
"Right now?" I ask, prowling up his body until I'm straddling his hips. He's fully hard beneath me, ready to go.
"Yes."
I lean forward and kiss his lips before trailing mine across his cheek to his ear. "Give me your baby, Cam," I whisper in his ear before biting down. "I want it."
"Fuck," he groans, his hands digging into my hips to still me. He captures my gaze with his, staring at me intently. "You're serious? You're gonna stop taking your pills and let me get you pregnant?"
"Yes. I want your baby. Our baby."
A flood of emotion washes through his gray eyes. His lashes flutter as he exhales a shaky breath and bows his head, completely discomposed. When he lifts his head again, his eyes shine with a combination of tenderness and joy. He flashes me that dimple again.
"I love you, kitten," he breathes against my lips, lifting me up and then sinking me down onto him.
"I love you, Cam," I moan, happily letting him unravel me all over again.
All Over You (All Falls Down #3) Page 27
