Chapter 10
CAM
CHAPTER TEN
We stay a little longer at Dom and Mav’s place before everyone grows tired. The deprogramming, as Louis called it, plus the bomb dropped about Shelby, hit everyone hard.
Hell, even I’m reeling, and I remember everything that happened over the last several weeks.
When Nick brought up him being able to track all of us if we flew down to Hawaii, it made me realize he could easily track my plane. For the first time in my life, I’m going to fly commercial.
The next available flight to Hawaii with an open seat is four days from now. I wish there was a way to arrive faster, but I use the time to transfer to cyber learning and catch up as much as possible.
I don’t look forward to calling my father to tell him I’m leaving.
But he can’t say much, considering he only stayed with me a week before he returned to racing, abandoning me at his place in Florida to recover with only the occasional check-in.
While I understand my father’s need to race, this experience made me realize it’s not the most important thing in my life.
Shelby has become such an important part of my life in such a short time. What would I do if something happened to her?
On the ten-hour flight, my mind races with what I want to say to Shelby and how she could react. I hope she listens to me and lets me stay.
Hell, she may slam the door in my face or not even open it, refusing to see me. Plan B is to stay in a hotel nearby and check in on her as much as she will let me.
Once the plane lands, I take a cab to the Knight’s vacation house.
“First time in Hawaii?” The cabbie looks in the mirror.
“No, but it’s been a while since I’ve been here.” I stare out the window.
“So, what brings you back?”
“Love.” I glance at my watch. It’s eleven at night.
Shit, I’ve been so lost in thought, my mind spinning out, I didn’t even register that it was dark outside.
Should I wait until tomorrow to see her? I don’t want to scare her.
No, I can’t do that. I need to let her know I’m fine and here for her. That I love her no matter what happened in that basement. I’ll be by her side in whatever capacity she lets me.
It’ll be so hard not to wrap my arms around her the minute she’s in reach.
“We’re here, sir.”
“Sorry, I was lost in my head.”
I pay him and grab my bags from the truck.
“Good luck,” he says as he pulls away.
I’m going to need all the luck I can get. I hope I don’t scare her.
I go to ring the doorbell before thinking better of it and raising my hand to knock on the door, loud enough to be heard throughout the main part of the house.
Through the frosted privacy glass windows that run down each side of the door, I can see the TV and the outline of someone small jumping before their head turns.
Guilt creeps into me that even that sound caused her to startle.
Shelby rises and walks toward the door, but stops a good distance away, and a slight tremble fills her voice. “Who is it?”
I smile. “Your prince charming.”
The security hole in the door darkens as she peers through it before she steps back, and the fogged outline on the other side of the privacy glass shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t know any prince charming.”
She sounds unsure, and for a second, I worry she might not open the door, either for lack of wanting to see me or—fear lances my heart—because she doesn’t remember me.
Did Roger fuck with her mind, too?
Then the locks click open, and the door handle turns.
When the door opens, she steps into my line of sight. A curtain of blond hair falls across her cheeks, obscuring my view of her face, and my heart clenches for the thousandth time since I woke up in that hospital and learned Shelby wasn’t with me.
She’s so thin that, if she lifted her shirt, I could count her ribs, and her blue shorts don’t hide the handprint-shaped bruises on her thighs. She’s lost her spark.
Anger rises for everything she went through, and I struggle to swallow it.
She stares at her bare toes, the nails cracked and chipped. “How did you find me?”
I put a smile on my face. “From your Proof of Life photo. A corner of the wallpaper showed on the screen that Nick and I recognized. None of us can forget that bit of ugliness.”
I try to use a bit of humor to soften what I’m about to ask. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Still not looking at me, she steps back and to the side, letting go of the door handle that her hand was clenching around and keeping space between us.
I step in and close the door before I turn and look at her. Shelby has always carried herself with confidence. But now she hunches in on herself while she glares at her chipped-off toenails, tears glinting in her lashes.
She takes a deep breath and lifts her eyes to mine. Her beautiful blue eyes welling over with tears tracking down her cheeks guts me. Pure anguish and heartbreak are evident for all to see.
My body shifts a millimeter before I jerk myself to a stop. I want to hold her, but I’m unsure if she’ll welcome that yet. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Evan told me you didn’t survive. He even showed me texts on his phone of him and his friends talking about it,” she sobs.
My heart breaks. If that asshole, Evan, wasn’t dead already, I would kill him myself.
I keep my hands relaxed at my sides—instead of the fist I want to make—to appear non-threatening. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, but as you can see, I’m right here.”
God, this is so hard. Everything in me wants to wrap my arms around her and tell her nothing will ever hurt her again.
I take a deep breath, remembering everything Nick and Hannah said. I have to wait.
Turning from me, she heads back to the living room, and we sit down on the couch. She’s as far from me as physically possible without being on a different piece of furniture or in a separate room. She pulls her legs up on the couch and draws a blanket over herself.
“How long are you staying?” She sniffles and picks at her nails, not looking at me. They’re red and ragged, chewed down to the quick, and her cuticles are torn.
“Beautiful, I know you need your space, and I’ll give you as much as you need. You need to work out some stuff, and I understand that.” I wait for her to look at me.
When she doesn’t and continues to tear into her finger, I hold in the sigh of sadness. “But I need you to understand why I’m here now. When I woke up in the hospital and Nick told me you were still missing, it damn near broke me. When you refused to talk to me, it hurt so much, like you were ripping my heart to pieces. But I understood you needed time. Time to process everything that had happened.”
Her body shakes as she silently cries.
I fold my leg under me on the couch and place my hand on the back cushion, grabbing the couch as hard as I can. I hate that she’s crying, but I need her to listen.
“And then, when I found out you left, not telling anyone where you were going, I couldn’t do it anymore. Despite being surrounded by your family, I couldn’t let you feel alone any longer. I couldn’t let you believe no one understood or was listening to your needs. And, yes, I showed up here when you asked us not to. But I also heard what you didn’t say in your letter to everyone else. Shelby, I love you with my whole heart. My place is here in any capacity you’ll let me. If you want me to leave, I will. But I won’t go far. I’ll be here whenever you need me.”
Finally looking at me, the regret in her eyes is clouded by the tears she continues to shed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Cam. You were the only one who believed in us.” She takes a deep breath.
I can see how bad she’s hurting, and I lean forward to pull her to me so I can comfort her. But my hand crosses some invisible line, and she cringes away from me.
“I’m sorry, beautiful.” My hand drops back to my side. “I can see how you’re hurting, and it’s taking everything in me not to wrap you in my arms so I can protect you and tell you you’re safe.”
“I guess they told you I’m flipping out about being touched right now?” She goes back to pick at those damn nails.
“Yes, they told me. I won’t touch you unless you tell me I can. No matter how hard it is. Will you let me stay?” I implore.
She bites her lip while contemplating my request, and in my head, I list the closest hotels near here and hold my breath until she answers.
Minutes go by before she gives me a half smile. “Let’s try it.”
My breath whooshes out of me. “Great. I better set up my room.” I groan exaggeratedly. “I forgot how tiring that flight is.”
I smile when she chuckles. “I guess you know where everything is?”
“Yep. I’ll take the first bedroom upstairs in case you need me.” I point upstairs.
She nods, staying where she is. “Good night, Cam.”
“Night.” I resist the urge to scoop her into a hug and blow her a kiss instead.
Moving past her slowly and with plenty of space, I walk up the stairs and drop my bag in my room. I take a deep breath. That was harder than I expected. Everything in me wants to hold her and whisper that everything will be okay.
My blood pressure climbs when I remember the broken sadness in her gaze, and I want to find that asshole and hit him for every bruise she has on her body.
I put clean sheets on the bare mattress, then hop in the shower. I’m pretty tired since I couldn’t sleep on the plane, too worried about how Shelby would react to seeing me.
Grateful Shelby didn’t chuck me out on my ear, I crawl into bed after I dry off and fall asleep.
Not long after I fall asleep, a scream rips through the still night air. Bursting into action, I race out of my room and down the stairs to Shelby’s room. What I find breaks my heart.
She thrashes in her bed, the sheets tangling around her. The tighter they wrap around her body, the worse her nightmare battle gets.
I walk over to the side of the bed and carefully sit, putting one hand on the bed, close but not touching her.
I keep my voice low and gentle. “Shelby, you’re safe. I’m right here to protect you. Shhh, I love you. You’re safe. I’ve got you, Shelby. You’re not there anymore.”
I repeat the words, and they must sink in even, because her thrashing eventually calms. Her face is flushed, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked forehead.
Her eyes flutter open, her eyes unfocused, as if she’s still dreaming. “Cam.”
“Yeah, honey, I’m here.” I pause with my hand mid-air, restraining my urge to swipe her hair off her face.
She grabs my hand and tugs hard. In my shock at her sudden move, I collapse onto the bed. She falls into a light sleep, my hand clutched tight in hers against her breast.
I lie frozen in uncertainty. I don’t want to freak her out if she wakes up holding my hand.
Soon, her breathing deepens, so I slip my hand from her grip, but she grabs my hand tighter. She won’t let me go; she needs me. I don’t try to move again. I sleep on and off, too afraid to fall asleep and pull her against me like I used to before.
The sun begins its ascent into the sky while I drift between wakefulness and sleep when she mumbles my name.
I open my eyes, and her blue ones lock onto mine.
“You had a nightmare, and I came to check on you. I was trying to let you know you weren’t alone and comfort you the best I could when you grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go,” I mumble fast, afraid she’s going to be mad.
She swiftly releases my hand and sits up. “I’m sorry.” Her voice is full of guilt.
“That’s why I’m here. Want some breakfast?” I give her a cheeky wink.
She wrings her hands together. “Um, I’ve been going for a run in the mornings.”
“Go ahead. How long do you normally run for?” I ask.
Her brow furrows. “I’m not sure. I’ve never timed it.”
“That’s cool.” I run my hand over my chin. “I’ll wait until you come back.”
Her eyes roam over my body, pausing on the red, puckered scar on my side, and her lips tremble.
I bend to look into her eyes. “Beautiful, I’m fine. The knife didn’t hurt anything important. Don’t think twice about it. Okay?”
She sniffles and nods her head.
“Go for your jog. I’ll shower and have breakfast ready for when you’re done.”
I run upstairs to take a shower.
I stand under the hot water, letting it run over my sore muscles. Last night, I was so afraid to move that my back and neck cramped.
Once I’m relaxed, I dress and head downstairs.
I walk out to the back porch and spot her down on the beach. I’m glad she’s trying to get back in shape. She’s far too skinny, but I hope to change that.
Back inside, I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge to see what I can fix for breakfast.
She returns about thirty minutes later, her body drenched in sweat, and her breast heaving with the effort to catch her breath. “Do I have time to take a quick shower?”
“Of course, I waited until you got back to start. I have eggs, bacon, toast, and fresh fruit for us.” I gesture at the stove, where I just dropped in the eggs, and the oven, where the bacon and toast are kept warm. The counter had the bowls of fruit ready and waiting.
“Thanks.” She heads off to her room and showers. It isn’t long before she comes back, towel-drying her hair, and sits at the counter. “Looks great. Thanks, Cam.”
“You’re welcome.”
After breakfast, she clears the dishes and puts them in the dishwasher.
As she does that, I debate what to say. “Frank found someone to undo the hypnosis on the guys. I was there when he did it.”
With her back to me, she peers out the window. “Did it work?”
I shrug my shoulders; she can see my reflection in the window. “I think it did.”
She releases the breath she was holding. “Did they say anything?” She sounds scared and unsure.
“Shelby...”
Her shoulders slump, and she curls in on herself.
“I need you to turn around and look at me,” I say gently but firmly enough that she knows this is important for her to hear.
It takes a few seconds before she does. “Why don’t we go out to the deck?”
I can’t imagine what is going through her head, but whatever it is, it’s not right. I head out to the deck first, and she follows me as if walking toward the gallows.
I settle at the table with the umbrella on it so we’re in the shade, my chair angled toward her and the amazing view of the Pacific Ocean.
While she needs enough space to make her comfortable, I don’t want her to think I don’t want to face her while I say this. I wait for her to settle into her chair facing the beach, creating an emotional barrier.
“Like I said when I arrived last night, I’m here for you,” I emphasize. “I promised to help you in any way possible. But I need to know how much you want me to tell you. I won’t force you to hear anything you don’t want.”
She stares at the waves lapping at the sand of the beach. “All of it,” she says, almost as if resigned to some form of torture.