Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) (13 page)

"Well that's certainly admirable. It must be hard on him emotionally though, surrounded by grief and all that. Is it?" Having eaten all the icing from her cupcake, Eva lifted the now-naked treat in her fingers, neatly biting a chunk from the rounded top.

"Well, I think it must be, but he does it because he has some experience with it. He had a wife of his own, but she died years ago. And her death left him to raise their son alone." Cameron waited nervously, watching her mother's face, wondering how she would react.

"I see," Eva said. "Go on." She kept her face carefully blank, waiting to see if Cameron would tell her more.

"Mac and Alex were sweethearts; they married right out of high school," Cameron said, watching compassion dawn in Eva's eyes. "They worked together, putting him through school so that she could eventually quit her job. They wanted Alex to be home with the children they'd planned to eventually have, like Mac's mom was home with him. After she'd been home a year or so, they had their son, Logan. But then Alex got sick, and Mac said it didn't take long before she was gone."

"And their son? How old is the boy now?" Eva asked, genuine curiosity showing on her face. Eva had always had a soft spot for children.

"Logan is nine now, I think," Cameron said, flicking a brilliant red cake crumb from her thigh.

"And how do you feel about dating a man with that much history?"

"You know, I don't know, really. That's why I hadn't said much. I feel a connection with Mac, and it's solid, at least so far. We talk and laugh; we kid around, but we've covered some serious stuff, like when he talks to me about Logan, or his wife," Cameron said.

She took another small bite from her cupcake, chewing and swallowing before she went on. "I just don't know, mom. I haven't told him anything about what happened to me in college. I just - what if he freaks out or something? I mean, right now, he looks at me, and he sees a regular girl. Maybe cynical, and maybe not so trusting, but he mostly just thinks I'm shy, I think. But he doesn't look at me and see my past, you know? I just don't know how to tell him all that, but I don't want to wait too long either."

"Cameron. He's a therapist, remember?" Eva's eyes twinkled, but she kept her amusement from showing on her face. "His life revolves around traumatized people trying to get over something. Give him a chance."

"I'm going to," Cameron answered. "He's out of town right now for a family reunion, but he'll be back next week. We're scheduled to go out Friday after he gets back."

Eva's hand froze, midway to her mouth with a napkin clutched in her fingers. "Cameron, you --"

"I know, mom. I did it on purpose," Cameron answered, abandoning the crumbled remains of her cupcake and steeling herself for the conversation she knew was coming, the memories that would be resurrected.

"You set a date with a man for the ten-year anniversary?" Eva asked, her fingers twisting the paper napkin to bits in her lap. "Cameron, are you sure about that?"

"I can't hide forever, mom. Isn't that what you always tell me?"

"Well yes, I suppose. Are you ready for that step though? I mean, I know that's always been a very private and very hard day for you since it happened, and --"

"I'm okay, mom. I'll be okay." But even as the words left her mouth, the bitter panic was rising up again. The thought of being alone with a man on the tenth anniversary of that day was a fright unlike many others she'd ever experienced. Fighting it back, Cameron cleared her throat and stood, hating the panic she knew would lace her words when she spoke. "I have to get going, mom. Are you sure you got everything you needed my help with?"

"I did," Eva said, checking her watch as if suddenly remembering something. "You go on, honey, and I'll be fine. I've got a bill to pay while I'm out."

***

"Don't worry, baby," Kevin whispered, brushing his fingers over the soft flesh of her bare shoulder. The halter-top wasn't skimpy, especially compared to what several other girls had worn, but not many girls could rock a halter the way she could, and she knew it.

Smiling slightly, she lowered her chin, looking up at him through heavy lashes. The first few glasses of "fruity murder" had been delicious, slipping over her tongue like a salve for her wounded heart. Jake had dumped her for not putting out, for not being slutty enough, for respecting her body enough to keep it covered. Well she'd show that bastard she wasn't a tight-ass cock-block after all.

She might not let them in her panties, but tonight she was cutting loose. She'd let him know what he was missing, by showing it to his best friend.

"Hey, drink up," Kevin urged, his voice soft, raspy with alcohol, smoke and loud music. He slipped a groping hand around her back, stroking the round tops of her buttocks through the thin material of her dress.

"Watch it," she warned, shooting him a stern look as his fingertips found the low backline of the dress and began to slip beneath the fabric, striving for the bare curve of her rear. His eyes sharpened, his lips tightened, but the fingertips retreated, slipping more carefully around her slender waist.

"Drink up," he said again, and though her instincts were screaming, she brought the glass to her pouting red lips and swallowed once, twice, again. He smiled, nodding his approval as she downed the last sweet drops of alcoholic nectar. "Good girl," he murmured, taking her hand.

Kevin led her through the crowded party, and by the time they reached Jake, Cameron was nearly incapacitated. "Dude, your girl and I are going to the playground," Kevin laughed, tugging her hand and causing her to fall against him. Her breasts smashed painfully flat against his chest, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he dragged her more tightly against him.

"Don't forget to play nice," Jake said, a warning in his voice. "I owe you, Kevin, and I pay my dues. But I don't like broken toys."

"No worries man," Kevin laughed, steadying Cameron on her feet again. "I'm a gentle giant, right baby?"

Cameron's eyes were blurring; she blinked to clear her vision but it immediately fogged up again. "You don't look like a giant," she slurred.

"I will later, baby. I'm like the Hulk; I keep the giant part of me hidden."

Cameron jerked awake in her bed, sweating. Slowly, she turned her head left, then right, taking in her surroundings, reacquainting herself with the present. Her clothes were soaked, her sheets a damp mess. Standing, she stripped her shirt off and stood naked, her fingers idly running over the scar tissue on her stomach, just below the fullness of her left breast. She sighed, frustration quickening her breath as she began to strip the sweat-soaked sheets from the bed.

"Well," she muttered, yanking a pillow from its silken turquoise pillowcase and throwing the pillow to the floor. "I guess I have to admit I knew this was coming. But --" she broke off, listening carefully. Was that a car outside? Or could it just be her typical anniversary paranoia? Slipping quickly into a short bathrobe and reaching under the bed for her bat, she crept to the window, peering out toward the front of her house.

"Nothing. Just like last time. Dammit, Cameron," she whispered furiously. Dropping the bat on the bed, she finished stripping the sheets, rolled them into a messy ball and stuffed them under one arm. Taking the bat with her, she fought the urge to turn all the lights on as she tiptoed through her own house with her ears perked for danger.

She used to do that, years ago, turning on lights from outside the doorway, creeping her fingers around the curve of a wall before flicking the switch to assess the room. She'd done it for years until Drew had found out what she was doing; he'd told her that turning lights on was a very effective way of giving someone outside a progress report of where you were located inside. After that, he'd stayed in her house with her for months, sneaking up on her and helping her practice self-defense techniques. She'd drawn the line at buying a gun, stating firmly that she had as much chance of being killed with one as a burglar did.

In the laundry room, Cameron worked by the glow of a night light plugged into the wall that turned on by itself in the absence of other light. She lifted the washer lid silently, her body tense, her ears still assessing every sound the house made, listening to every creak and pop, every car driving down the street outside. Stuffing the sweaty sheets into the washer, she reminded herself to turn it on in the morning as she got ready for work.

There’s no way I’m turning it on now,
she thought. It would mask the sounds of someone coming in.

She turned, careful not to hit anything with the bat or make any other noises, and carried it with her back to her room. Despising the tripping of her heart, she turned the light on and searched the closet for a clean set of sheets to put on the bed. Still, the sense of someone watching wouldn't drop away, and even after the bed was once again soft and inviting, sleep eluded her.

Sitting in the middle of the bed, newly dressed in a black tank top and purple yoga pants, she finally gave in to the panic. She took a Xanax and shame filled her as she lifted her cell phone from the bedside drawer.

"Michael? I hate myself for this, but I can't sleep," she whispered when he answered. "It's been almost ten years and I still can't sleep. But I can't call Drew; he has Cass now. Can you come sit with me?" A tear slipped down her cheek as her brother immediately agreed to come and watch over her, to protect her from the monsters in her memories, and she curled herself around the bat, frozen in the middle of her bed.

She didn't need to move; all her brothers knew how to get in.

"Well I have to say, as heinous as that twit is, she sure makes a gorgeous bride," Tabitha said, standing next to Cameron as they watched Christina Dawn and her newest husband disappear into the stretched Cadillac Escalade that would carry them off to their romantic honeymoon.

"Yeah and we really outdid ourselves this time, huh?" Cameron murmured quietly. She had enjoyed the wedding, and watching the party go off without a hitch had been great. Still, she'd been having a lot of trouble sleeping, and it was beginning to take a toll on her concentration.

"Still not doing so well?" Tabitha asked. She slipped her arm around Cameron's waist, surprised when Cameron stepped away slightly.

"No, but it's worse this time. I can't sleep most nights, and when I do sleep, I have these flashbacks. They're so real, I wake up soaked in sweat."

"You know you can call me right?"

"Tabitha, I don't want you there. If they come back for me or something --"

"Cam, you live in a different town. Don't you remember going away to college? Away from home? Different state?" Tabitha reached out again, touching Cameron's arm, pulling her around to steer her toward their cars. The cleanup crews could be trusted to do their own thing, so Cameron and Tabitha didn't need to be there.

"I know. But Jake, he knew I lived here, Tab."

"But do you really think he'll bother you?" Tabitha asked. She leaned her hip against Cameron's car, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it wasn’t his thing. But still. There's nothing more terrifying in the world than being truly defenseless in front of a predator, and I'm not sure I'll ever stop being afraid. Even when he was locked up, I was still looking over my shoulder, remember? I almost feel guilty, dating Mac, you know? All this baggage on my shoulders? I mean, he's got stuff too, but at least it's mostly normal stuff. What happened to me is not your average everyday drama, though."

"I know. None of us will ever forget. Especially me."

"I know. Look, I gotta get going, Tab. Michael's been staying at my house until things settle because it helps me sleep, so I have to get some laundry stuff done and pick up some grocery stuff. He makes me glad I don't have a husband, the way he comes home eating everything at night." Cameron waited for Tabitha to step away from the car, and then opened the door to drop inside with a weary sigh.

"Are you really sure you're okay Cameron? You want to get some coffee with me before you head home? We could go sit somewhere quiet for a while. Or I can come over and help you pick up the man-mess if you want company."