Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
January - Paris
“ A re you ready for me, boy?” The masked man walks into the room, a strap hanging from his hand. I already know I’m not walking out of here today.
My father will take me to a makeshift hospital until I’m not covered in the welts, cuts, and bruises this man is going to leave on me. I don’t care, though. Hopefully, today will be the last day I have to endure a beating from a masked man.
Maybe today is the day I finally die.
I stare the stranger in the eyes. Ice-blue eyes. They’re cold. Just like you’d imagined a monster’s eyes to be. His body is huge, fat, and covered in faded tattoos.
It’s temporary, I tell myself. It’s only going to last so long and then I can go home. I just have to get through it. Or die. I’m okay with either option.
When I don’t answer him, he snaps out an arm, slapping me across the side of my legs with the belt. “I asked you a question, boy. You deaf?” he yells. “No, I think you just like the punishment. Bend over and I’ll give you a proper belting.”
I don’t have a choice. There is no way out of this room. Out of this nightmare. I don’t willingly bend over, though. I never have and I never will. They can do what they want to my body. I will not make it easy for them or be subservient to their demands. If they want me to do something, they will have to force my body to comply.
Which is exactly what the man does. His hand wraps around my hair and he yanks until I’m forced onto my knees. Then his foot comes out, kicking at my back and pushing me down. My hands land on the hard concrete. I don’t cry out. There’s no point. No one is coming to save me. I learned that much a long time ago.
I can only save myself. I haven’t figured out a way to do that yet, but I will. If it’s the last thing I do, I will kill one of these men. And then maybe all the others will think twice about coming for me.
The belt whips across my ass, and my skin burns with the contact. I still don’t cry. My fingers clench as I stay down. Because if I try to get up now, it’ll be worse.
“You got nothing to say, boy?” the man hisses. His foot kicks at my stomach and then his hands push on me until I’m flat on my back. He straddles my body, his palm wrapping around my throat, squeezing tight enough to restrict my airflow.
My lungs burn. But I don’t move. Instead, I look at his neck and imagine that it’s my hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing the life out of him.
“Vin, wake up.” I try to turn my head, but I can’t. She’s not supposed to be here. Cammi. I can hear her voice. But I can’t see her.
“Wake up. Vin, please. It’s me. It’s Cammi. Stop.” Her voice sounds raspy. What’s wrong with her?
“Cammi?” I choke on the words. My eyes open, and I see her.
She’s on the bed, underneath me, and my hand is wrapped around her throat.
No! I shake my head. No! I jump off the bed and walk backwards, getting as far away from her as I can. “No,” I say aloud. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She shouldn’t be here.
What have I done?
“It’s okay. Vin, it’s okay. You’re safe,” she says, scrambling off the bed before attempting to step closer to me.
I hold out a hand while shaking my head from side to side. “Don’t. Don’t come near me.” I stare at the marks around her throat, marks my own hands left. I did that to her. Fuck. Tears burn my eyes. I can’t… I don’t know what to do. I need to get away from her. So far away. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t know.” It’s no excuse. I should never have laid a hand on her.
“This isn’t your fault, Vin. I tried to wake you up. It’s my fault. I should have waited for you to wake up on your own,” she says.
I tilt my head and stare at her. She loves me beyond fault. A fact I’ve always known. I never want to take advantage of that love, which is why I’ve tried to keep my distance. Because as much as she loves me, she will see past every single one of my flaws. Cammi will dive head-first into my darkness to be with me, a place she doesn’t belong.
“It won’t ever happen again,” I tell her. “Pack your things. We’re going home.” I walk out of the room. I need to get her home, and then I’ll say goodbye for good this time.
I have no idea how I’m going to do it. I just know I have to. For her. She’s not going to get hurt by me ever again. The only way I can ensure that happens is if I remove myself from her life completely.
“What? Why? Vin. I’m fine. You’re fine. We are fine,” she says, following me out of the room.
“Cammi, I almost choked the life out of you and you’re standing here telling me it’s fine? It’s not fucking fine. None of this is fine.” My voice rises.
“I can’t lose you, Vin. It was an accident. Please, don’t do this,” she says, tears falling down her cheeks.
“I’ll arrange for a doctor to meet us at the airstrip. I’m booking us a private jet to get us home,” I tell her.
“I don’t need a bloody doctor. I need you!” she yells. She’s angry. Good. She should be angry. I can deal with anger, a lot fucking better than I can deal with her sadness.
“Cammi, please. Just… let’s just get home and then we can reevaluate.” I have no intention of doing that. I know what needs to be done and I’m going to have to be strong enough for both of us in order to do it.
“I need you in my life, Vin,” she says, her voice a lot quieter now.
“I know,” I say, because I really do know. I need her too. But my urge to protect her against everything I am is so fucking strong I can’t overlook it. And I can’t unsee what I just did to her.
The jet touches down in Sydney, and it’s not long before I lead Cammi over to the car I arranged for us. We’re both silent as I drive her back to her aunt’s place. Each of us knows what’s coming, and neither of us is thrilled about it.
When I pull up outside the house, I turn in my seat to look at her. Cammi has tears running down her face, and I feel like the shittiest person on earth for ever making her cry. “Kiss me like it’s the last time you ever will,” I tell her.
“I can’t do that because I don’t want there to be a last time, Vin. I’ll kiss you like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and you’ll be knocking on my door, ready for another kiss from me.” She leans in and presses her lips against mine briefly before she pulls back and forces a smile onto her face. “See you tomorrow, Vin.” Then she gets out of the car and walks around to the trunk.
I follow her, pulling out her suitcase before turning back in her direction. “I’ll bring it in for you.”
“No, it’s fine. I got it.” Cammi takes the suitcase and starts wheeling it up the path to the front door, pausing at the halfway mark to turn around and look at me. “Vin, I really do hope I see you tomorrow,” she says and then turns back around.
I jump into the car, and as soon as I see Cammi shut her front door, I drive towards the airport. I just need to get home.
My heart is gone. I left it back in Sydney. I have no idea what’s pumping the blood around my body at the moment. I just know it’s not my fucking heart. I walk through the front door and head straight up to my bedroom. Where I dig out my little tin, pick up a joint, and search around in my drawer until my fingers wrap around a lighter. I go out onto my balcony and fall into the seat.
I’m two puffs in when the doors open and Gio walks out. Usually, I’d try to hide the fact that I’m smoking weed. Right now, I don’t fucking care enough.
My brother lowers himself onto the seat next to me and holds out his hand. He doesn’t say a word. And I try not to act shocked when I pass him the blunt and he lifts it to his lips. “It’s good,” he says, blowing out a heap of smoke before passing it back to me.
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
“So, there a reason you booked a private jet to bring you home from France?” Gio asks.
“Cammi,” I say.
“What about her?”
“I…” I can’t even say the word. I fucking hurt her, put my hands on her and hurt her.
“You what?” Gio presses.
“I was having a nightmare. She tried to wake me up, and when I came to, she was underneath me and I was choking her,” I admit. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know it was her.”
“You’re not responsible for what you do in your sleep. You’re not even conscious. Anyone who knows you knows you wouldn’t hurt a woman on purpose.”
“It doesn’t matter. I hurt her, Gio. Her neck was fucking red. I did it, asleep or not,” I grunt, before inhaling another lungful of smoke.
“What does she say about it?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “I could probably kill her mother in front of her and she’d find a way to forgive me, Gio.”
“Sounds to me like she’s a keeper then.” He chuckles.
“She is. But I can’t do it to her. I can’t strap her down to a life filled with my bullshit. I will just keep hurting her.”
“I’m no expert, but don’t you think you leaving her is hurting her?”
“But she’s alive. I could have killed her.” The thought of draining the life out of Cammi’s eyes makes me physically ill. I can taste the vomit at the back of my throat, ready to spill over at any moment.
“You didn’t though,” Gio says. “I don’t know the girl very well, but from the one encounter I’ve had with her, I can say that I like her. And I think she’s good for you. You smoke less when you’re with her and you hang out with those loser friends of yours less when she’s around.”
“Dash and Marcus are not losers.” They are my friends. The two people who have always been there for me.
“Sure, they’re not.” Gio pushes to his feet. “Ellie expects you at the dinner table. Get ready for the inquisition. She’ll want to know everything about Paris.”
“Perfect,” I groan. “Just how I wanted to spend my night.”
“Better than sitting out here feeling sorry for yourself, little bro.” Gio walks back through the door without sparing me another look.
I finish my blunt and walk straight into my bathroom. I need a shower. I can’t go to dinner smelling like weed. I don’t need that kind of lecture from El.