Chapter 17 Reed
REED
Wren looked like she was bracing for impact. Her fingers were clenched around her phone, her bottom lip tugged gently between her teeth, and she hadn’t spoken much since Cam hung up on her.
I hated that she had to carry this weight even after she escaped it. That just seeing Tyler again put all that fear right back in her body like it never left. It was shitty that Cam was already blowing this out of proportion. I am just hoping he gets over it quickly.
She glanced at the front door, barely lit from the porch lamp, then back at me. I didn’t let myself think. I just leaned in and gave her one more kiss. Soft. Quick. Just enough to say I’ve got you.
Her breath hitched, and she gave me a look like she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to walk into her old life now that something between us had shifted.
“You got this,” I said.
She nodded, and with one more glance, slipped out of the car and headed up the steps.
The door opened before she could get her keys out to unlock it. Cam stood there in basketball shorts and a hoodie, jaw tight, arms crossed. His blue eyes narrowed and searching for injury, for cracks. He then looked past her, locking on me through the windshield.
Yeah. This was gonna be a long night. I hopped out of my truck and gave him a small wave. We all headed inside.
Half an hour later, Wren was asleep in her room.
Cam had made her a cup of tea she didn’t touch, and by the time we’d finished dragging the basic details out of her — yes, it was Ty, no, he didn’t hurt her, yes, she’d been drinking, yes, I got there in time—she was visibly fading.
She excused herself, and Cam watched her go.
“She okay?” he asked once her door shut.
“Not really,” I admitted, dragging a hand through my hair. Thinking about everything she told me tonight, I knew she was quite a long way from okay. “But she’s safe.”
Cam exhaled hard, stood up from the kitchen table, walked to the living room, and dropped onto the couch. “I should’ve gone.”
“No,” I shook my head. “That’s why I did.”
He looked up at me, brow raised.
I sat across from him on the recliner, elbows on my knees.
“You see him in person, and it’s over. I’d be bailing you out before dawn, if they could even give you a bond for second-degree murder. ”
Cam gave a dry laugh, not denying it.
“He put his hands on her again?” he asked quietly. He crossed his arms over his chest, seeming like he needed to keep himself calm.
I nodded. “She told him to stop. He didn’t. I walked in at that exact moment and made sure he got the message.”
Cam’s jaw flexed.
“Cam,” I added. “I broke his nose.”
He laughed. “Damn, and you didn’t want me going?”
“That’s a fair point. Took four people to get me to stop.”
His laugh died down. “If I’d known he’d be there…”
“You would’ve gone,” I finished for him.
Cam’s eyes flashed to mine. “Damn right I would’ve. Or she wouldn’t have gone.”
I stayed quiet. He wasn’t looking for comfort from me; he was wrestling with something heavier.
“I should’ve just gone anyway,” he muttered. “Even if she didn’t want me there. Even if she needed space.”
“Cam—”
“You weren’t there the way I was,” he cut in, voice lower now, like the weight of memory had just settled on his shoulders again.
“When I left for school, Dad got worse. Subtle at first. Then not. He tore her down every chance he got, especially when he was drinking. And I was hours away pretending everything was fine.”
He paused, staring at the floor like it might give him some kind of answer.
“I left her in it. I let her figure it out alone. The worst part was, she didn’t feel like she could come to me and tell me what was happening. I found out about all of this by the time it was too late. She told me everything after I moved us here.”
“You were a kid too,” I said quietly.
He didn’t respond to that. Just ran both hands down his face and let out a long breath.
“I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since.
Maybe that’s why I hover too much or why I lose my shit every time she makes a risky choice.
It’s not just her asshole of an ex. It’s all of it.
All the years of me not being there when she needed someone to stand between her and…
everything. I get that she is an adult now, and I want to treat her like that, but it is so hard not to see her as my baby sister.
Something that needs to be protected. Maybe I am too hard on her, but I just want her to be safe and happy. ”
I didn’t know what to say at first. Cam didn’t normally open up like this. Not even to me.
But I get why he was always looking over her shoulder. Why he never quite trusted anything or anyone that wasn’t him to protect her.
“I get it, dude,” I said after a beat. “But tonight isn’t on you. None of us expected dipshit to be there. She would’ve been fine otherwise. Harper takes good care of her, and when she noticed things taking a turn, she texted me.”
Cam looked at me.
“I wouldn’t let you go,” I added. “But I knew I could. And I did. You are right, she needed someone to stand between her and the shit she wasn’t ready to face.”
Cam studied me for a long time. Something unreadable behind his eyes.
I didn’t look away. I just met his gaze and let the silence stretch between us.
Then I broke it.
“It’s past three a.m.,” I muttered, pushing back off the recliner. “I’m crashing on the couch before I start crying about you and your sisters fucked up lives.” I knew they had a guest room, but I was too tired to make it down the hallway.
Cam snorted, the tension finally cracking.
“Don’t drool on my throw pillows, man. Wren picked those.”
“No promises.”
He shook his head, rubbing a hand through his shoulder-length hair as he headed for the hallway. “You touch my food, and we’re fighting.”
“That’s a good idea. Goodnight.”
“Dick.”
“Love you too.”
His footsteps became distant as he walked down the hallway, followed by the faint sound of his bedroom door clicking shut a second later.
And I sank into the couch, the weight of the night catching up to me all at once. She was safe. Cam was calm. Ty was gone, or at least suffering.
I fell asleep on their living room couch, thinking of the way Wren looked at me in my truck. The way she kissed me. The way that she wanted more. None of this felt simple anymore.