Atticus #3
James stands even taller.
“Cameron,” I interject, and his eyes flicker back to me. “Who makes your decisions? Who controls your every move?”
“You do,” he whispers, awed. Like I’m bigger than any problem he’s ever faced, like I’m his savior, like I’m a god.
“Then pack.”
He rushes off, heading into one of the rooms in the back to get his things. Some sick part of myself knows that if I follow, I’ll recognize the space even as it’s my first time actually stepping foot in this house.
Sheryl continues to wail, calling me every name in the book and shouting at her son; she tells him he can’t go, that his father would be so disappointed in him.
And it makes me sick. Where is his father?
Cameron finally returns, a backpack hanging from his shoulder and a small duffel bag in hand.
“Ready?” I ask him, and he nods.
“No! You can’t just—this isn’t right! James, stop him,” Sheryl demands.
The fucker makes it one step before I have Cameron shoved behind me, a sneer firmly in place.
“Touch him again, and I’ll bury your body where no one will ever find it. And if they do? I’ll pay for them to forget. Understand me? Fucking nod if you understand what I’m telling you.”
With wide, terrified eyes, James nods once.
“What?! You can’t just do this!” Sheryl cries. “Cameron! Cammy, listen, baby. Don’t abandon me, don’t leave me to rot all alone!”
I turn, catching it as Cameron’s face falls, overwhelmed with guilt. But before I can speak, before I can tell her to back off, he sniffles and peers around my shoulder.
“Goodbye, Mom,” he says quietly. “I do love you. But you haven’t loved me since the day Dad died, and I refuse to continue being your punching bag.”
I rest a hand on the small of his back and escort him out.
“Motherfucker! You’ll pay for this!” his mother screams after us, but it’s muted as I settle him into the passenger seat before climbing into mine and peeling out of the driveway.
Cameron looks dejected, sniffling quietly. I reach over and rest a hand on his thigh, squeezing softly.
“You alright?” I ask him.
“Do you… Do you think less of me now?” He sounds so small, so beat up. “Do you think I’m weak and pathetic?”
“What? Why would I—”
“You said it once. That I was pathetic. That I wasn’t worthy of being locked in your castle.”
I take a deep, stuttered breath. Trees zoom by, the white line on the road becoming blurry with unshed tears.
“I was just angry, baby. I didn’t mean that back then,” I promise. Cameron nods, small and faraway. “I don’t want anyone locked in my castle but you.”
Stormy gray eyes turn in my direction, and an entire hurricane swirls inside. “Really? You mean that?”
“Of course.”
“And you’ll do this forever?” he pushes. “You’ll boss me around until we die?”
I can’t help but grin. If there were ever a man more perfect for me than Cameron, I would assume he’s a robot. A fake.
Or maybe an incubus, possessing his body to seduce me.
It would totally work, by the way.
“I’ll control your every waking move until I’m six feet under, sweetheart.”
Cameron looks relieved, slowly coming out of his shell of misery.
“I don’t like making decisions. I don’t like being in charge,” he tells me. “I know it’s dumb, considering how I look and how I show myself to others, but it’s true. You don’t think that makes me less of a man?”
“You’re not less of anything,” I snap. “I told you once before—you are just as amazing, if not better, than anyone else. Any other man.”
And Cameron smiles. A bright, full smile that fills the entire car with sunshine on this dreary day.
“Okay,” he says. “I believe you. I’m… I’m happy. Thank you for taking me away from there.”
“You go where I go,” I remind him. And after a moment, my question from earlier returns to me. “Uh… where… where is your father?”
Cameron is silent for a long moment before he says, “Dead. He died in a car accident when I was young.”
Something akin to pity moves through me, making it difficult to reply. His father died, leaving him with that woman all these years? No wonder he’s so conflicted and out of sorts. Not only does he have a codependency streak for days, but he’s never had anyone to guide him. Ever.
Well, until now.
“You’re not alone anymore,” I promise him. “And your father would not be disappointed in you. What you just did took a lot of courage. You’re a strong man.”
With a relieved, wet sigh, Cameron fully relaxes into his seat. “You think so?”
“I know so, baby.”
As we drive, doused in a comfortable silence, I can tell he still feels some semblance of guilt and inadequacy. But that’s something he’ll have to work on; I can’t talk him out of his trauma.
What can I do? Touch him until he forgets it, even just briefly.
As we pull up to the gates of Chastin Castle, I slide my hand up his thigh until I’m rubbing against his soft cock.
“You did good, sweetheart,” I praise. “Ready for your reward?”
Cameron’s breath catches, his adoring eyes settling on mine.
“Yes,” he breathes out. “Definitely yes.”
I grin, so happy to oblige. “Let’s get you inside. I have filthy things in mind.”