Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) (17 page)

“Let’s go back,” he says, holding me a little tighter before he drops his hands and takes a step back.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when a smile paints across his sad face, ringing out as a sweet song through a gentle breath. Beautiful, so beautiful, it hurts my chest to look away from him.

My hand reaches for his, and our fingers interlace with one another. The walk back to the auditorium is quiet yet peaceful, as I escape deeper into my lost boy. Olivia shouts Camden’s name as soon as we walk into the room, and he waves back at her, his smile growing when she waves at him again. Seated next to my parents, he puts his arms around the back of my chair and curls the tips of my hair with his fingers.

Ripe desire blooms in the pit of my stomach. I turn my head to face him, my eyes open, bold, telling. His fingers run over the back of my neck. Slow, delicate, awake to the same longing. His soft eyes darken with the oncoming storm, his lips forming a thin line, before he plants a kiss on my cheek.

His wandering mouth travels to my ear where he whispers, “It’s good to be home.”

Those words stir me, the warm rays of our love igniting my passion. Molten and ferocious, it flows through my veins, filling my soul, consuming me with pleasure and his irresistible heart.

When Olivia takes the stage, my heart drums in my chest, strong and proud. Feathers from her costume fall from the top of her head, trailing past the brown paper-bag dress she made that covers the pale green dress she’s wearing beneath it.

This morning I styled her hair in long ringlets that now fall and frame her pretty face. A radiant smile stretches and reaches me, and I lift my cell phone, already in camera mode, and take pictures of my little girl dressed as a Native American.

Grief eases from Camden’s face, the firm lines of his forehead smoothing as he watches Olivia’s performance. Her voice is low, but her body sways to the music, free and joyful, as she keeps her eyes trained on the four of us—her family.

When the first dance is done, Camden rises from his chair, applauding and hooting her name, but I tug him down, knowing the show is nowhere near over. He brings my hand to his lips while his blue eyes watch me.

“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” he asks, his voice filled with wonder.

My head bobs up and down in agreement, but I keep my eyes trained on Olivia. The kids in her class go back to their seats while she bounces on her heels with a microphone in her trembling hand. Camden gives my hand a comforting squeeze.

Once she stands on the stage by herself, the beginning of the song she’s been practicing comes on. Her eyes dart to us, and I give her a quiet nod of encouragement.

My chest tightens when she stays silent on her cue to sing. As she shuffles feet, her eyes bore into mine, and I give her a thumbs-up when her teacher starts the radio again. Tears swim behind her eyes when she misses her cue again.

Her teacher whispers words of reassurance that Olivia doesn’t seem to hear. I lick my dry lips and hold my breath when the song starts again. On her cue, Camden stands up and loudly sings the words he’s heard us practice tirelessly. Bodies shift as the parents gape back in shock at Camden.

A shy smile crosses her face, and she joins Camden in his offbeat song about wobbling and gobbling.

TWENTY-TWO

CAMDEN

After my impromptu performance, the kids in Olivia’s classroom go back to the stage and continue their show. Strumming at my heartstrings, Olivia pulls me in with her melody and fills the gaps of my soul. While her voice remains soft throughout the show, her magic reaches me. My darkened shadow hides for a while, allowing Olivia’s innocent exuberance to consume me, and her mom’s delicate light to ground me.

Once the show is over, Olivia bows once before she runs toward her mom, who picks her up for a quick embrace. Happiness crashes into me when she turns to me and lifts her arms for a hug. When I pick her up, her arms and legs wrap around me. Such a simple gesture, but still, it strips me bare, one by one putting back the pieces of my tattered heart.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Cam.” Olivia’s fingers brush over my chin, pulling at the beard I’ve been keeping short.

Setting her back on the floor, I reach beneath the chair I sat on during her show and pull out a bouquet of white roses. Eager, she takes them from my outstretched hand and spins circles in front of us as she holds her flowers. Her laughter rings freely, her hair tousled in all directions, and I drink in the sound as my lungs press firmly against my chest. Olivia’s like the warm sun and I bask in her glee and the love that pours so easily out of her.

Tears well up in Yanelys’s eyes, a quivering finger running small circles over her bottom lip, as she watches our exchange. My heart stutters before it lurches forward, making me fall in deeper and deeper and deeper into the lives that matter most.

My two beautiful girls cleanse me. Their essence seeps into my soul, and for just a little while, I relish in the healing and allow my heart to feel the good rather than the bad.

Santiago claps his hand on my shoulder, his never-ending smile full of hope and belief. He nods his approval once, and I’m forced to bite back the threatening tears. He’s always believed in me, never turned me away. God, I hope he doesn’t ever live to regret me.

In the car, I sit in the backseat with Olivia, my fingers twisting her curly hair, as she chatters on about the show, and Yanelys peeks through the rearview mirror to watch us with fierce adoration. Olivia keeps her flowers close to her chest and only stops talking to smell their fragrance.

Once we get back to Yanelys’s place, Nisa pushes her big body against my leg while her butt wiggles in excitement.

“Is she always this happy when you come home?” I scratch the back of Nisa’s ear, and I swear, she smiles at me.

“If we’re gone for anything longer than a minute, yeah. I’m pretty sure, in dog years, each minute counts as long as a month,” Yanelys explains with a serious tone that makes me chuckle.

With one last pat on Nisa, I follow Yanelys, who puts Olivia’s flowers in a vase and lets her choose where she wants to place them. Not too surprising, she puts them on the dining room table where she does her homework and we eat dinner together.

When my skin begins to crawl, I excuse myself to the bathroom, stopping on the way to ask Santiago for a pill. With him going out to his car, I go to the bathroom and slip open the vent door where I retrieve a pill from the baggie hidden behind it. The acid in my throat rises as I swallow the pill and sit on the floor, hoping my trembling limbs will stop shaking once the poison has worked its way through my body. My blood runs cold, and I only stand up when someone raps on the bathroom door.

“Coming.”

On my feet, I walk to the mirror and stare at the figure standing in front of me. I clench my hands into tight fists when my eyes mock me, telling me I’ll never be able to get clean. That I’ll always be a slave to my shame. Not even Yanelys or Olivia can love me as much as these pills do.

“Everything okay in there?” Santiago asks through the locked door.

“Yeah,” I call back, closing my eyes to the demon standing before me. I rub my hands over my face.

I tap the vent door to make sure it’s closed properly and then open the door to Santiago and another pill. Taking the offered glass of water and the pill, I swallow them and lean against the hallway wall.

I haven’t even started trying to get clean, but already, I know I want to quit. Beaten by the memories I can’t shed, I want my addiction to win, so I don’t have to feel.

Exhaling a harsh breath, I clap Santiago’s shoulder, squeezing it once, before I speak, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Santiago scans my features, taking in the distressed emotions passing through me.

“Today,” I stammer, my heart beating in rapid succession against my chest. “I want to get clean today.”

My fingers squeeze deeper into his shoulder, grounding me, as my legs shake, threatening to give.

“Okay.” His voice bleeds through his lips.

Every nerve in my body explodes.

He rubs a shaky hand over his face, and I do the same with mine. My eyes cut to the wall, to the floor, to Nisa wagging her butt at us before I find the courage to look at him. Empathy pours from him in waves, washing over me, soothing me like a balm to the burning flame within me.

“Okay, son,” he repeats.

Strong arms go around me, holding me, while I shake in his embrace.

“After dinner, we’ll go to the beach house.”

His words grate against my chest, a warning for me to flee, but I swallow it down, silencing it, and meet his bleary red eyes before I nod once.

“We’ll get through this, Cam, I promise.”

“What are you two up to?” Yanelys asks, her eyes growing wide when she takes in the tears in her dad’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

Soaked in guilt, I go to her, two calculated steps forward, but I don’t touch her. My hands twitch on either side of me, unease latching onto me, as I dispense a hot breath.

“I have to go away for a little while, baby.” My voice shakes, and my heart trembles.

“Where?” She steps away from me, her hands going up to cover her heart. “Why?”

Tears build and spill from her eyes, my guilt growing with every tear she sheds.

“Just for a little while,” Santiago tells her, his eyes roaming her face for understanding. “We’ll be back in time for Thanksgiving.”

My body shifts, my lips pressing against one another. Thanksgiving is only nine days away. Rubbing my hands over my face again, I go to Yanelys and make her a promise I hope I won’t break.

“Thanksgiving,” I whisper, my voice low but rough.

Brown eyes glare back at me, confused and hurt. Desperate, I lean into her and place my lips on her, soft and sweet, letting her breaths fall onto me, into me, to resurrect me.

“I love you, Yan,” I murmur against her mouth.

“Thanksgiving?” she asks, resting her head on my chest.

“Yeah.”

“Whatever’s going on, Cam, I need you to know, I believe in you.” She cups my face in her delicate small hands, holding my gaze with eyes full of love and tenderness. “I believe in us, in the love we share. In your strength and the goodness I see in you.”

My body shifts, uncomfortable with her unwarranted trust in me, and I drop my head to her shoulder. “How?”

How can she see any of that when my own demons darken her spirit? When the horrors embedded in me taint and ruin everything I touch?

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. My eyes drop, scan the hallway, and finally land back on her. The only girl who could ever touch me. The only one who could piece together this screwed-up puzzle.

“Because I don’t know how
not
to,” she says simply.

“When I come back, I’ll tell you everything.” And I can only hope she’ll feel the same way.

With our hands clasped together, we go to the dining room. Our hands separate after a small squeeze, and Yanelys goes to the kitchen with Nisa a few steps behind her while Olivia and I set the table for dinner.

“The forks don’t go on that side,” Olivia informs me when I’ve placed a fork on the left side of the plate.

“To be honest with you, Livvy, I don’t get why we need forks and knives for pizza.”

She scrunches her nose at me. “They’re not for the pizza, silly. Mom always gets salad and spaghetti when we order pizza.”

“Sounds like quite the feast.”

“She even lets me have soda on pizza nights.”

“Soda?” My eyes widen in mock shock, and it makes her giggle.

With twinkling eyes, she nods her head. “Sometimes, if I’m really good, she’ll let me drink two cups of soda.”

“Wow!” I pat the top of her head and bend down to plant a small kiss on her forehead. “Think I can have a bit of your soda, too?”

“Sure”—her eyes narrow, and she places her hands on her hips—“but don’t hog it all.”

Laughter builds inside of me, and Olivia joins me with her warm giggles.

After a short bath that flooded the bathroom, I soak up Olivia’s mess before Yanelys can see it. Olivia twirls circles in front of me, her green pajama dress fluttering against my face with each spin.

Affection coils around my body as this cute little girl dances over my heart, marking it as hers.

“What is this?” Yanelys’s voice rises above Olivia’s singing.

We both freeze, but laughter spills from me when Olivia slants her eyes at me.

“It’s almost clean, Mommy. See?”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She narrows her eyes at Olivia, who squirms under the intense stare. “Get to bed, and I’ll help Cam finish.”

Olivia scurries off, and I catch the humor in Yanelys’s small smile.

Peace wraps its arms around us as we clean the bathroom floor in communal silence.

“I’m gonna go say bye to Livvy.” My hands rake over my face, and then my fingers tighten as I grasp on to the strands of my hair and pull.

A sigh mumbles from her throat, and I feel her sadness simmering.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I have to. If there were any other way…”

Taking her hand in mine, I lead us to Olivia’s room. Yanelys stands by the door, giving me time alone with the daughter I’ve just started to get to know.