Hell Bent (27 page)

W
hen I’m done speaking
, I feel completely and utterly exhausted. I’m snuffling and sobbing and I hadn’t even realized I was crying until this very moment. I can’t remember the last time I cried. It’s been years. But I can’t stop it now.

I have always thought that once you confessed a painful secret, the pain is supposed to go away. Only the pain hasn’t disappeared. It hasn’t even lessened. If anything, it’s actually gotten stronger, now that I’ve come clean. I’m reminded of all the lives I’ve lost—all the people who have lost their loved ones because of me.

I don’t want to look up. I know Milly is judging me. She hasn’t said anything so far. She hasn’t reached out. She hasn’t responded in anyway. She’s tried to offer comfort before I’d told her the truth. But I didn’t want the consolation then. She couldn’t really offer comfort until she knew what I’d done. And now that she does, she probably doesn’t want to offer it anymore.

So I just sit on the bed, staring at my hands. I feel lost and alone and miserable. I allow the waves of pain and anger and guilt wash over me. I cry until I physically can’t anymore—until I’m sore from sobbing and all out of tears. Only then do I look up.

I’m expecting judgment. Or, at the very least, pity. But her eyes are full of tears as well. And they gaze at me softly with something else in them—a look I can’t quite place.

“Can I hold you now?” she asks, her voice soft and hoarse at the same time. I nod and she’s suddenly pulling me into her lap, holding me tight. Together, we rock back and forth. We’re silent for a long time.

“Thank you for telling me what happened,” she whispers in my ear eventually. “I know this isn’t going to mean anything right now, but it wasn’t your fault. I know you don’t believe me. But hopefully, someday, you will. It wasn’t your fault, Cameron. You said it yourself, your hand detector didn’t pick it up for some reason.”

If I had any more tears to shed, I would shed them now. Only I don’t, so I wrap my arms around her. I hold her as tightly as I can, without hurting her, and vow to never let her go.

“We’ll get through this, Cameron,” she promises. “Together.”

“Together,” I whisper back.

Milly disentangles herself eventually, but only pulls far enough away to look me in the eyes. Her big blue eyes are full of warmth and softness.

“I love you, Cameron,” she says with a soft smile.

My breath hitches. For a second, I don’t believe my ears. After all of the horrible shit I’ve just told her, she loves me. Luckily, before I convince myself that I made it up, she whispers it again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” I tell her and then my lips are on hers. They are wet and salty with her tears, but I know mine taste the same.

It’s perfect. She pulls me away from the headboard and down against the comforter. I go willingly. Now she is straddling me, pushing down against me hungrily.

She’s wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of panties as she grinds down on me. I want her, badly, but I’m so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that I relax back onto the bed and allow Milly to take over. She does so with determination, pulling away only long enough to rid me of all of my clothes.

After slinking to the nightstand to grab a condom, she pulls her own panties off and tosses them to the side. Then she’s back on me, kissing and licking her way across my neck and chest. I can feel her sucking bruises along the tattooed flesh above my navel and I can’t help but smile.

I have the urge to flip her onto the bed, crawl on top of her, and do the same. But I don’t. I simply enjoy the feel of her lips and tongue on my already over-heated flesh. When she gets to my member—already fully hard and dripping—she runs her tongue along my shaft.

“Milly,” I cry out, thrusting my hips up.

“I got you, baby,” she says sweetly, before going lower to run her tongue along the tender flesh of my balls.

The sensation is amazing, and I moan again. I open my legs wider in invitation. Milly crawls between them before winding her tongue along my shaft once again. Then she slowly guides my throbbing cock into her mouth and sucks me down.

I give in to the sensation, allowing the pleasure to ripple through my body. All too soon, however, she pulls off. I can’t help but whine in protest.

“Sorry, baby,” she whispers. “I’m not ready for you to come yet.”

Milly crawls back up to kiss my lips. I can taste myself on her mouth and deepen the kiss, licking into her until all traces of me have disappeared.

When I finally release her from the kiss, she sits up and reaches for the condom. She closes her fingers around my cock, still wet with her saliva, and gives it a few pumps before slipping the condom on.

She pulls off the t-shirt before straddling me. Her magnificent breasts stare in my face, and I moan in anticipation. My cock in hand, she rubs it up and down the folds of her pussy for a moment, spreading her juices, before sinking down on me completely.

Milly throws her head back in pleasure as she’s impaled on my dick. Her breasts are bare and shaking and her long blonde hair falls around us. It’s the most enthralling image I’ve ever seen. I can’t take my eyes off her as she moves back and forth above me.

“I love you so much, Cameron,” she says, and her wide, tender eyes reveal the truth of her words.

“I love you, too,” I say as I lift my hips up to meet her. Her breath hitches as I push up into her even deeper.

I run my hands up and down the gentle curves of her body. I trace her hard, swollen nipples with my thumbs as I cup each breast. I twine my hands through her hair and pull her down for a deep, hungry kiss.

We whisper “I love you” against each other’s lips until we’re almost hoarse. And the whole time she is moving above me, flexing her hips as her body envelops me. It’s a slow, sensuous motion and it’s almost too much to endure. But I’m not going to come this way, not yet.

Eventually, I grab on to her hips firmly and begin thrusting into her body as fast and deep as possible. She moans in response and rocks down onto me at the same pace, moving one hand down to play with her clit. Soon, she’s shuddering, twisting, and screaming above me as her breasts bounce up and down.

The image alone, of seeing this amazing, gorgeous woman—whom I love—shaking with pleasure as she rides my cock, sends me over the edge, and I’m coming deep inside her.

She collapses against my chest, and I hold her tightly for as long as possible. Eventually, I roll her to the side so that I can get up and dispose of the condom and I return to find her snuggled under the comforter, already fast asleep. My heart melts a little. If I wasn’t already in love with her, I would be now.

I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted. I’m barely tucked in beside her before I’m drifting off to sleep.

M
y entire body
hurts when I finally wake up the following morning. My head is throbbing, and my stomach is growling. I reach for my phone and am surprised to see that it’s nearly noon. I don’t think I’ve slept this late, ever.

“No,” Milly says next to me, pulling the phone out of my hand and pushing me back down on the pillow. “I’m not ready to be awake yet. Go back to sleep!”

I nestle back down into my pillow—and against her warm flesh. But then I remember what day of the week it is and sit back up.

“Don’t you have to go to work?” I ask.

“No, I don’t,” she responds. Her voice is raspy and rough. “I called in sick.”

I study her. She looks about as bad as I feel. Her eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark circles around them. She looks exhausted. But she’s smiling up at me sweetly. I’m reminded of last night and our conversation.

“I love you,” I whisper, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips. “But I have to get up. My head is killing me. I think I’m dehydrated and I’m starving.”

“You probably
are
dehydrated,” she says, looking worried. “Did you drink anything after your run last night?”

“No,” I admit.

“And then you cried a lot—that always dehydrates you.”

“Does it? I haven’t really cried like that in… ever.”

“It’s good to cry sometimes,” she says with another kiss before sitting up and climbing out of bed. “We both skipped dinner last night. When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast yesterday? No… I also had a protein bar after physical therapy.”

“No wonder you feel like shit,” she says as she pads naked out of the room.

I slip on some shorts and grab her t-shirt before following her out. In the kitchen, she pours us both a big glass of water and gulps half of hers down before starting the coffee pot. I hand her her shirt, which she takes with a smirk.

“Does my nudity offend you?” she asks.

“You shouldn’t cook naked,” I tell her, smiling.

“So I’m cooking you breakfast now, am I?” she asks teasingly.

“Yes!” I say as I sip the water. “I don’t think I can.”

“I doubt that. Drink your water and you’ll be fine.” But she’s pulling eggs and bread out of the fridge, so I know I’ve won.

Only a few minutes later, were sitting down to fried eggs and toast.

“This is amazing,” I tell her. It may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

“You must be starving,” she says. “I’m a horrible cook.”

She’s probably right. I am starving. But I can’t help it—the food tastes amazing. When we’re finally hydrated and fed and sipping coffee, Milly looks over at me. I can tell she has something to say.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I think… I don’t want you to get upset but..”

“Spit it out,” I tell her.

“I think you should see a therapist.”

She tenses and holds her breath. I think she’s expecting me to be angry at the suggestion. After last night, though, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. I think of Dr. Ruiz. He wasn’t too hard to talk to. I think I still have his card tucked away in my wallet.

“Okay,” I say, nodding my head.

“Okay?” she asks, sounding surprised. I don’t blame her. I’m surprised myself.

“Okay,” I repeat. “I’ll see a therapist.”

She smiles, and we go back to sipping our coffee quietly. But something else is bothering me. It’s like, now that I’ve opened the floodgate of my emotions, I can’t close it.

“I was serious yesterday,” I begin eventually. “I’m going to contest my medical discharge.”

Milly’s eyes grow big and she stares at me for a long time. There is something unreadable in her expression.

“Are you absolutely sure?” she asks. I feel something cold slide down my spine. Up to this point, she’s always been so supportive.

“I am,” I tell her. “I thought you would support that decision.”

“Why? Why would I sit here and watch you do something that may jeopardize your health?”

“That’s not necessarily true,” I tell her.

“How so?” she demands. “Up until now, you’ve been having these nightmares that won’t go away. I don’t think you’re ready, emotionally.”

“What you said last night,” I start. “You told me that what happened in Iraq wasn’t my fault. I never saw it that way. I’ve been convinced it was all on me, my men’s deaths. That’s the reason I’ve been scared of going back. I was convinced that I didn’t deserve to be a Marine anymore. And I’ve been scared that if I’m sent back over there, I could be responsible for the death of even more men. But I know that it’s my calling, it’s what I’m meant to do with my life. And what you said last night made me believe that you would be supportive of my decision.”

I suck in a breath and wait, but Milly doesn’t respond.

I
spend
a long time looking at my plate, willing away the tears that are threatening to spill out. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We’ve just overcome so much. And now Cameron wants to leave me? Again? He wants to go back to Iraq and leave me here alone. I blame his father for this. I blame his father for everything.

“Fucking James Campbell,” I growl. “I could kill your father right now.”

“This isn’t about my father,” Cameron says, his voice loud and firm. “
I
want this.”

“You always just go along with whatever he wants,” I snap.

“No. Not anymore. But rebellion for the sake of rebellion is pointless, Milly.
Not
doing this—even though it’s something I
want
—just because my father wants it as well, is stupid. Can’t you see that?”

I swallow. He has a point. I’d always positioned myself on the opposite side of whatever my mother was arguing simply because I didn’t agree with her parenting. But Cameron is right…
not
doing this, just because his father wanted him to, seems ridiculous.

Still, I can’t help but worry. What if next time, it’s him that loses his life? What will happen to
us
if he’s shipped back overseas?

“Please, Milly,” he says. His voice is soft and vulnerable. “I need you to be with me on this. I need your support. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. But I’ve made my decision, and it’s the right one. I know it is.”

I look up into his beautiful eyes, greener than I’ve ever seen them. They’re also more decisive than I’ve ever seen them.
He means this
, I realize. And who am I to fight with his sense of duty—his desire to serve our country? As much as I want to argue, I know that I can’t.

“Okay,” I say eventually.

“Okay?” he asks uncertainly, as if he wasn’t expecting me to agree with him.

“Okay,” I answer. “Let’s do this! Let’s fight your discharge!”

Cameron is up and across the table in a matter of seconds.

“I love you so much,” he pants between kisses.

“I love you too,” I respond against his lips.

After a few seconds of making out, however, he pulls away. He is staring at me with an intensity that I’ve never seen before. It makes my entire body shiver.

“What?” I ask.

“Marry me!” he replies. It’s not a question. It’s a command. I can see the soldier already coming back to life.

“Yes, sir,” I say, grinning from ear to ear, because it would be impossible to say anything else right now.

C
ameron cancels
his physical therapy appointment—he’s in no shape to try and work out today—and we spend the afternoon lazing about the apartment, recuperating and basking in our love. It sounds cheesy, but it’s really what we’re doing. I can’t look at him without getting a sloppy smile on my face.

When I’d gone to sleep last night—at least the first time—I’d thought that we were over. Now we are getting married. And I can’t believe that he’s agreed to see a therapist so readily. Perhaps he feels like our relationship was worth fighting for. I sure do.

It wouldn’t be easy. Especially not with him returning to the Marines—possibly even being deployed overseas. But I’m dedicated to making this work. Even though I know it will require making sacrifices. In fact, I know one sacrifice I’m already willing to make.

“You need to talk to your dad,” I say as we’re lounging on the sofa, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Cameron pushes up against the backrest and scowls at me.

“What? Why?”

“Because, as much as you don’t want to deal with him, he should know that you came to this decision on your own.”

Cameron is still scowling, but I can tell that he is seeing my point.

“Will you come with me when I bring him my papers? I will tell him then, and we can also tell them that we’re engaged now. Might as well get it all over with in one visit.”

“Of course,” I reply, holding his hands. “We’re a team.”

Cameron calls his father and makes plans to meet up later this evening. Apparently, James is in the process of selling his apartment and is now officially living with my mother full time. I groan when I learn this news.

It would be kind of hypocritical of me to refuse to see my mother while insisting Cameron confront his father. But Sabrina doesn’t hold the same power over me that James seems to hold over Cameron. He needs to break free from that, once and for all.

Sabrina seems surprised to see me when we stop by in the evening. This confirms that James really did think his son is simply dropping off the signed papers. My mother—with her usual faux-hospitality—insists that we all have drinks in our hands before we are seated. I practically gulp half a glass of wine just to calm my nerves. I even catch Cameron sipping on his scotch—and he
never
drinks.

“So, son,” James says eventually. “I assume you have the paperwork for me. I’ll get my secretary to currier it over to Bob’s department tomorrow morning.”

“I have the paperwork,” Cameron says, reaching into his coat pocket. But he pauses before handing it over to his father. “I need for you to be clear about something first,” he says in a calm but commanding voice. For the second time today, I’m reminded of the soldier he once was—the soldier he’ll soon be again. “I’m not doing this for you. You have absolutely no control over my life and no say in the decisions I make.”

I can see James’s face growing red.

“You are my son, Cameron. It is my responsibility to—”

“No!” Cameron interrupts. “I am a twenty-eight year old man. I am a soldier. I am a Marine. You have no say in anything I do. I’m contesting this discharge because
I
want it. Not because
you
think it’s what I should do.”

With that, Cameron hands his father the paperwork. James looks like he wants to argue, but he takes the documents silently. Before there is any more arguing, I decide to change the subject.

“We also have an announcement,” I say.

Finally, my mother looks up and her eyes join James’s in watching me expectantly. I open my mouth to speak, but it’s Cameron who speaks up.

“I’ve asked Milly to marry me,” he says with a smile—the first smile he’s had since we planned this visit, “and she said yes.”

Now it’s my mother’s turn to scowl.

“What?” she asks. “That’s not possible. It’s not even legal.”

“It’s plenty legal, mother,” I say with a laugh. “We’re not
actually
related.”

“It’s one thing to be screwing around,” my mom says, “but marriage? Really? That’s a very public act. Everyone will know.”

“Seriously?
That’s
what you’re worried about?” I’m practically yelling now, but I can’t help myself. My mother truly is the most selfish person I’ve ever met. “And we’re not just screwing, for your information. We’re in love!”

“Love,” she huffs. “After a few months?”

I only level a glare at her. In fact, all eyes in the room turn towards her questioningly. She seems to quickly catch her mistake and tries to back-pedal.

“I just mean… the two of you are young. It made sense for
us
to move fast. We’re older. But you have all the time in the world.”

“And I want to spend that time with Cameron,” I say.

Cameron turns towards me and smiles. I’ve seen that smile a thousand times at this point, and it still takes my breath away. I know I’m not making a mistake.

“But marriage? Does it have to be marriage?” Sabrina is pleading. “Live together forever, for all I care, just don’t do something so public. Not before an election year.”

That’s it. That’s the absolute worst thing she could have said and it makes me lose my shit.

“That’s all you’ve ever cared about, isn’t it?” I raise my voice. “Your career, making sure you look good, making sure you’re reelected. I spent my entire life waiting for you, putting my life on hold because you were busy, or you needed me to make an appearance at a function. You are a horrible mother. Why should I take your feelings into consideration when you’ve never taken mine?”

I practically scream the last few lines, and I can feel Cameron’s arms wrap around me. I realize that I’m crying. Sinking into his embrace, I will myself to calm down. Once I’ve cooled off a little, I begin to feel embarrassed. I was proud to witness Cameron stand up to his father, being strong and confident, only moments ago. But here I am, responding like a moody child. Sabrina isn’t in the right, but neither am I—not completely.

Wiping away my tears, I turn back towards my mother. I’m surprised that her eyes appear to be a little moist as well.

“I’m sorry, mom,” I say. “That was out of line. But my relationship with Cameron is none of your concern. We are in love and we are getting married. If you want to be a part of our lives, then you need to accept that. If not, that’s your loss.”

Grabbing Cameron’s hand, I turn and pull him out of the apartment. That’s about as much maturity as I can stand for one day. I need a drink.