Path of Destruction (17 page)

“Physically,” Cami started, trying not to squirm in the armchair she was sitting in across from the therapist she’d sought out, “I’m okay.”

“And mentally?”

There was a slippery slope if ever she’d been on one. Cami was unsure of where to start. She took a deep breath, watching Diane’s eyes assess her.

“You can tell me anything you would like to. It doesn’t have to be just about the tornado or your experience. We can just chat about how you are feeling today.” Her words were calming. “That might be a good place to start.”

“I’m feeling anxious,” she blurted out. “Always anxious.”

“About?”

“Everything. About what happened. About what’s going to happen. All of it.”

Diane nodded, waiting for Cami to continue. When she didn’t, she prompted her. “Is there one thing in particular that seems to drive the anxiousness?”

“The weather. Anytime it storms. I can’t stop myself from obsessing about it.”

“That’s a very logical reaction to what you went through.” It felt good to hear someone say that she was justified in her phobia.

“What you’ve developed is astraphobia. Or more specifically, Lilapsophobia—a fear of tornadoes.” Diane’s words became a soft murmur in Cami’s ear as she envisioned herself displaying all of the reactions and emotions she was describing. She’d experienced them all. At home. At school. A few weeks ago in the middle of the mall when she locked herself in the bathroom next to the food court for thirty minutes. “Constantly checking for weather alerts. Hiding under the bed or in a closet. Acting erratic, inconsolable, etc...”

Yes.

Yes.

And yes.

“How do you feel when you learn that a thunderstorm is going to happen?”

“Helpless,” Cami said with heavy sigh. “Completely helpless. Even when, logically, I know I’m safe.”

“Have you found anything that helps you keep your mind off of the weather? A hobby? Exercise? Or something else that draws your focus?”

Maybe.
She shrugged.

“There are a few breathing exercises that you can try when you become upset or feel a panic attack coming on,” Diane explained. “Meditation also helps.”

Cami nodded, knowing that what she was offering was professional advice, but the only thing she could think of—the only person she could think of—was Brantley Cooper. She’d found a way to distract herself all right. A denim-and-plaid-wrapped distraction with the softest damn lips she’d ever kissed.

“What interests do you have other than the weather, Cameron?”

“Umm...” ‘Making out with farm boys didn’t seem like a solid answer. A stark realization hit Cami about as hard as the root cellar door had. “I don’t really have any. None. I used to do a lot of things—social committee, pageants, hanging out with friends—but after the storm, everything seemed so...trivial. You know?”

“How so?”

“It was all shallow. They were all shallow,” she said, referring to her former friends. “I guess I’m waiting for some grand sign from the universe about what my life is supposed to mean. Like, I want to do something more with my time than just shop and look pretty.”

“It’s common for people to reassess their lives when they live through a traumatic event. When was the last time that you didn’t feel like what you were doing was meaningless? The last time that you were truly happy?”

“A while ago,” she said, knowing that the next words out of her mouth were going to sting because she’d yet to say them. “Before Kyle died.”

“I
was thinking maybe we could spend your spring break at Grand Lake,” her father said once the three of them were settled at the dinner table.

Christmas break had been a nightmare. Her mom had stayed locked in her room most of the time, EJ had practically camped out at the ridge, and her father had growled at everyone to try and at least act like human beings. She wasn’t surprised that he wanted to get the heck out of that house during the next break, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him play head of household as if he’d never left.

She stared at her plate, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her father was back and her brother was gone forever. And her mother… Well, her mother was present, though only in the physical sense. She glanced over at where her mom sat with slumped shoulders meticulously moving vegetables around on her plate.

“Ella Jane? I asked you a question.” Her father’s glare was firmly attached to her.

Ella Jane took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I don’t really care,” she said through gritted teeth. She’d been trying so hard to just avoid him, to avoid the confrontations that caused her pain and anger to spill over onto her family. But her dad wouldn’t allow that. “To be honest, I couldn’t make myself care what we do for spring break if my life depended on it.”

“Care to tell us what your problem is, Ella Jane? Because I thought you’d be happy to get out of town for a while.”

“Will your mistress be joining us? If so, please rent a larger cabin. I didn’t mind sharing a room with Kyle when we were kids, but I’d rather not share one with her if it’s all the same to you.”

Her dad’s tone turned warning. “Is that your idea of a joke?”

“Is this yours?” EJ heard her voice rising. “Kyle dies, so you come home to play the hero? Newsflash, Dad. He hated you. He said you were a coward that walked out on his family and that a real man would never do that. You know what the real joke is?”

“Ella,” her mother broke in, but it was too late now.

Everything she’d held in, all the hateful words she’d wanted to say when her father returned as if trying to fill the void Kyle left, came spewing out.

“The real joke is that I defended you. I missed you. I wanted you back so badly that I didn’t care what you’d done to mom or to us or with some rich bitch in the Bluffs. But guess what? Now? Now, all I want is my brother back and you to leave like you’re so good at doing.”

Her anger began to wane, giving way to the desperate ache she felt anytime she allowed herself to accept the fact that Kyle was truly gone and never coming back.

“Now wait just a damn minute,” her father roared, standing and towering over her. “You may not approve of my life decisions, but we are all hurting here. And no matter how you choose to grieve or who you choose to take it out on, I am still your father and you will show me some respect in this house.”

“Please,” her mother whimpered barely loud enough to be heard. “Let’s not do this at the dinner table.”

EJ narrowed her eyes up at her father. “I agree. Let’s not do this. Let’s not sit here and pretend we’re one big happy family. I’ve lost my appetite. Excuse me.” After shoving her chair back hard enough to scrape the hardwood floor, she all but ran from the room.

Going upstairs to her bedroom was out because she’d have to pass Kyle’s room, so Ella Jane headed out the front door instead. Once outside, she filled her lungs with evening air and the scene she’d just made played behind her eyes.

Only this time, she got the full panoramic view that included her mother sitting to the side and trying too hard to hold it together while everything and everyone around her fell apart.

The familiar sting of tears pricked her eyes as she walked to the Ridge. Her body had suddenly became such a foreign thing to her—her chest hollowing out every time someone asked how her family was holding up, her stomaching pitching and rolling when that look of recognition hit just before they said, “Ah, you’re Kyle Mason’s little sister,” and apologized for her loss. Her head pounded as if the monster inside that kept attacking everyone was punching her skull.

She didn’t know where the girl she’d been had gone. Maybe she’d died with Kyle up on the Ridge. Maybe that’s who she was looking for each time she went up there.

She just didn’t know if she actually wanted to find her.

A
fter spending an hour at the Ridge and another one on the phone with Lynlee, Ella Jane felt marginally better. Something about the distance between them and Lynlee’s brazen personality and lack of judgment made talking to her a bit like a confessional. Plus, her long-distance friend had witnessed both Hayden’s betrayal and the person Ella Jane had become after Kyle’s death firsthand.

“I don’t have a name anymore, Lyn. All I am is Kyle Mason’s poor little sister, and every time someone says they’re sorry for my loss, I want to punch them in the throat. What the heck is wrong with me?”

She knew deep down that no one meant any harm—that they truly were sorry for her, for her family, for the community as a whole to have lost someone like her brother. But after hearing it over and over at school, at the grocery store, at the pharmacy, from every single client she had to call to reschedule landscaping appointments, she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d begun to avoid familiar faces, and even unfamiliar ones, everywhere she went. Truth be told, she’d begun to avoid her own face in the mirror. She wasn’t certain who she was anymore but she was certain that she didn’t much care for the hurtful angry creature she’d become.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” her friend reassured her. “You’re just sick of being reminded of something painful every day. Anyone would be.”

“But he was—
is
my brother, Lyn. I should be proud of that. I shouldn’t be sick of being his little sister. It’s about the only good thing I am right now.”

“I call bullshit, EJ. Because you’re a person too. And spending your life carrying a ghost around that everyone can see would suck for anyone. Believe me, I knew Kyle well enough to know that, if the situation were reversed, he’d have his fine ass out in that barn tossing straw bales like no tomorrow. And he’d be on the edge, just like you are. Between losing him, your dad coming back, the new school, the drama with Hayden Prescott, and your angsty never-ending back-and-forth with Brantley Cooper, I’d say you’re due for a nervous breakdown.”

Hearing it all together like that wasn’t necessarily helpful, but it did put things into perspective. “How’d you know my brother used to go toss bales when he was angry?”

Lynlee let out a short laugh. “Oh, EJ. Dear, sweet, innocent, EJ.” Lynlee’s voice was soft, reminiscent when she spoke again. “Let’s just say I might’ve helped your brother let off a little steam from time to time.”

Ella Jane was scandalized. “You did? You and…you and Kyle? When? Where was I?” Her brother had so many secrets. First the Princess of Summit Bluffs, now a fling with Lynlee. She wondered what else she didn’t know about him.

“Look, the point is Kyle was a human being and so are you,” Lynlee said, redirecting her attention. “It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling and granted, maybe throat punching the elderly members of Hope’s Grove is not the best way to handle it. But letting loose on your dad? I think that’s probably a hell of a lot healthier than holding everything in. If anything, Kyle’s death should remind us all that life is short. We spend so much time worrying about everyone else’s
feelings
,” her friend said, spitting out the last word like it was a repulsive one, “that we hardly ever just do what we want. Well…most people don’t. I personally try to live every day to the fullest, but then I don’t have a conscious or that pesky give-a-fuck-what-anyone-else-thinks gene, so I’m a little different.”

EJ laughed a little. One thing could always be said about Lynlee— she was a tough chick and she truly did what she wanted. Not that EJ always agreed with those decisions, but she admired that her friend had the courage and the ability to make them.

“I just don’t know how to
be
anymore. I feel like an alien has invaded my body and is constantly acting out and leaving me to deal with the fallout. I cry when I’m with Cooper because all I can feel is Kyle’s absence, and I snap Hayden’s head off every time he tries to talk to me because I can’t separate him from the night I lost my brother.”

Lynlee sighed. “So, what is the current climate with your two fellas?”

“Neither of them is mine, Lyn.”

The other girl made a noise of disagreement. “Well…maybe you should do something about that then. Grief and sexual frustration. Not a good combo.”

EJ snorted. Sex was the furthest thing from her mind, though it never strayed far from Lynlee’s. When she’d constantly analyzed her every interaction with Cooper, Lynlee had suggested she up and make a move, a bold one that involved touching him intimately and whispering propositions in his ear. EJ would’ve dropped dead of humiliation had she ever tried something like that. Well, the
old
her would have.

“I’ve only been with the one person the one time. I can’t imagine either of them would be interested in letting me work out my mixed-up feelings that way.”

Now her friend outright laughed across the line. “Oh, honey. If you announced you needed some grief counseling in the form of sex, a line would form.”

After they hung up, Ella Jane felt mildly better and yet tightly wound at the thought of returning home. So she stared at her phone until she found the courage to call him.

Jarrod Kent answered on the third ring.

“Where’s the party, Kent?”

Her inquiry was met with a low, dark laugh. “Same place it always is, sweetness. Wherever you want it to be.”