Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) (14 page)

“School functions, too,” I agree. “When she knows me and you’re ready, we can tell her I’m her dad. I won’t push it, but, fuck, Yan, I want her to know me. I want her to know she has a dad and that he loves her so, so much.”

“When I’m ready.” Yanelys’s eyes glint with fierce tenacity when she nods her head again, her throat bobbing as she swallows. “Meanwhile, I want her to get to know you. Next week, she has a show at school. She’s singing a solo for the Thanksgiving show that we’ve been practicing for close to a month now,” she says, her tone that of pure amusement.

My eyes meet hers, dancing with joy, when reality slams into me.

“Next week…” I begin, but I stop when her confused eyes rake over me and she gets off me, leaving me empty without the pressure of her body pressed against mine.

She crosses her arms, shielding herself from me and the inevitable pain I might bring her. Her eyes narrow, her sweet mouth turning down into a grim scowl. “What’s wrong with next week?”

“Nothing. I’ll be there,” I amend. “And every day before then.”

I dig my fingers into her sensitive skin, already feeling her slipping away.

“Prison, huh?” I ask as nonchalant as I can. I can’t help but wonder what could’ve possibly happened for her to end up behind bars even if it was for a short time.

“My dad’s friend has a weird sense of humor,” she replies, her eyes downcast to my shoes.

“Right.” I suspiciously eye her but let it go because what right do I have to ask her anything when I’m hiding everything?

Claustrophobia settles in as I stand between the narrow walls of Yanelys’s hallways, just outside her bathroom. Heat gathers in my chest, the tension between Santiago and me growing, as I wait for him to give me another pill. The hardness in his eyes steals the breath from my lungs, and I cock my head to the side, hoping he won’t give me away. The man I’ve worshipped my whole life, who now holds the fate of my future in his hands, regards me with silent disapproval.

On a long sigh, he reaches into his pocket and gives me a pill.

One single pill. My prison. My sanctuary.

A malignant companion that makes my skin itch.

With shaky hands, I take it from him and pop it into my mouth, swallowing it dry.

“We need to get you clean, Cam.” He holds my gaze, my disease spreading into his veins, seeping out all the good. “Two weeks is too long to wait. We leave tomorrow.”

We leave tomorrow.

Marking an end of lies. The finality hits me.

“Livvy has a show next week. Then, Thanksgiving’s a week after that. I’ve missed too much already.” My voice begs with him, my emotions reprimanding me for the unspoken words that scream the truth. “Please, Santiago. Two weeks with my girls. Let us get to know each other. Then, you and me—we’ll leave. I’ll get clean and come back home to them.”

Infested with guilt, I conceal the other truth and conform my thoughts, hoping Santiago will take pity on me and let me have a two-week reprieve before we battle my demons.

“You can’t stay here. Not with your addiction.”

“I won’t hurt them,” I plead, needing to be near them, for them to give me purpose. “You have to know I’d never hurt them.”

“Two weeks,” he concedes. His chest heaves, his eyes narrowing. “But I’m keeping the pills with me. I need to know how much you’re taking, because I’m not putting you, my daughter, or my granddaughter in danger.”

Helpless to my addiction, I chase my deceit and half-truths with a strained smile.

Reading the emotions crossing over my face wrong, Santiago cups the back of my neck and squeezes. “I’m not going to let you fail, Cam.”

My eyes cut to him, faith resurfacing, only to be resigned by an addiction I’m powerless to control.

EIGHTEEN

YANELYS

Night clings to the darkness of my bedroom as an impossible silence hangs over Camden and me. So many unknowns remain between us, driving us apart while we continue to pull our bodies closer to one another.

We don’t know how to talk to each other—not really. This invisible divide pushes us away yet draws us closer to each other.

I love him. My heart recognizes that love, but I hurt because of him. Olivia will hurt because of him, too, and that’s the hardest part for me to face. I want her to get to know him.

Her open spirit and easy nature have already accepted him in our lives. When I took her to the side after my parents had left and explained how Camden was going to stay the night, I thought she’d ask questions, but my daughter simply twirled a couple of times and asked if Camden could tuck her in. As we left her bedroom, I took his hand in mine and led him to my bed where we’ve been trying to talk before he has to go back into his bedroom. I’ve asked him questions that have gone unanswered, and felt him inch away from me through the silence.

Dropping his face to the inside of my neck, he pulls me closer to him, and I feel his heart beating against mine.

“Cam,” I say.

He releases a desperate breath that brushes over my neck, making it tingle.

“I just want to know what’s going on.” Fisting my hands into his shirt, I hold on to him.

We used to sleep like this, our bodies molded against one another, and in each other’s arms, we’d find rest. But tonight…tonight, restlessness vibrates off his skin, making cold sweat drip down his back and chest.

“Migraines.” His voice quakes.

I move my face closer to his, placing a tender hand on his chest.

“They come on suddenly like this. I just need my pill.”

Worry drapes over me while my blood races as he trembles beneath my touch.

“Where are your pills, baby?” I whisper, my lips grazing over the stubble on his chin. “I’ll get them for you.”

“No!” he shouts, the word filled with ferocity, as his fingers wind around my wrist. “I’ll get them.”

Unsettled, I turn on the lamp and track him as he stumbles off the bed to the bag he brought from the hospital. His hands search frantically through the bag until he pulls out the same jeans he wore earlier. His face crumbles, and he shuts his eyes just before he puts the pill into his mouth and swallows it dry.

Seconds tick by, the pulse in my throat keeping time while I wait. His blue eyes, dark from his pain, search my face.

“Come to bed, Cam,” I say. When he looks at my bedroom door, I turn off the light. “No more questions,” I promise before he can escape. “I just want to sleep with you.”

On shaky limbs, he comes back to bed where he drapes an arm around my waist and brings me close to him. Feeling him shiver, I pull the sheets over us and run my fingers through his long hair. Rather than close his eyes, he watches me, the weight of his intensity making me blush.

“You always take care of me,” he murmurs. “I’ve never asked you to, but you do it anyway.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, crushing me, as the flame behind them dies out.

“I’ve given you every reason not to,” he whispers, misery pulling his lips down.

His eyes flutter closed when I trace a gentle finger over his lips.

“We take care of each other,” I say.

He shakes his head, denying all the comfort he brought me growing up.

“I’ve done so much bad in my life, Yan. Things I don’t want you to ever know. It scares me, what I’m capable of. Even now, I’m ruining your life, but I can’t leave you. I can’t survive again without you. Without Livvy. But with all this bad”—his eyes open, intense and raw—“I don’t know how to be with you, how to breathe the same air as you.”

“You’re doing it right now.” Swallowing hard, I pull him impossibly closer to me, thankful when I notice he’s shaking less.

“I don’t deserve to.”

“You deserve happiness and love. The unfiltered kind only we can give each other.”

“No.” His pained voice tears at my heart, stealing the beauty of today, the day Camden came back into my life.

“Why don’t you let me decide what you deserve?” My whispered voice blends with the darkness cloaked around us, spoiling our night.

My slender fingers glide over his skin, his scars, marred by an abusive past neither of us knew how to escape. Still my fearless knight, he places a hand to my chest, squeezing them to a fist over the thumping of my heart.

Where his wounds are visible, mine lie just below the surface. But with him back, my cracked heart fills with the love we’ve always shared. And although my heart warns me to be careful, I know I’m already in too deep for caution. Where Camden’s concerned, I’ve always been in way too deep.

A rush of air flees from my lungs when Olivia jumps on top of me. Still groggy from a restless night, I roll her to the side, hoping she’ll give me a few more minutes of sleep.

“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” Her melodic voice rings out, making my lips curve into a small smile. “Cam’s already making us breakfast.”

My eyes flutter open, and I take in the morning with newfound exuberance. The sun caressing my bedsheets shines more radiant than ever. The haze of dawn is more blissful than yesterday’s. Magic impresses on us, making Olivia bounce in anticipation.

Camden’s home. Her daddy’s finally here.

I take Olivia with me when I jump out of bed, twirling her in the air once before I set her back on her agile feet.

“He makes the best chocolate chip pancakes.” My eyebrows raise.

She giggles at the expression on my face.

“I’ll race you to the kitchen. Whoever loses cleans the dishes.”

Not waiting for her to reply, I sprint toward the kitchen, her laughter chasing me, filling me, just like it always does. When we round the corner, Nisa barks at us, her butt wiggling in greeting.

“That dog”—Camden points the spatula at a grinning Nisa—“is gonna give me a heart attack.”

“You’ll live.” Moving past him, I pat his shoulder, and he sends me a lingering glare.

Losing myself to him all over again, the ground shifts, caving beneath my feet. For a moment, our eyes narrow in on one another, and he cocks an eyebrow when my cheeks redden. He sets the spatula down, and after one long stride, he’s standing next to me, invading my space with his scent. Without hesitation, he stretches his arms and places his hands against my waist.

“Never knew a blush could be so sexy.” His voice rasps against my cheek, making my blush deepen.

Raw anticipation builds in my core, and I exhale a sharp breath when he rubs his rough knuckles over my cheek.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his breath tickling my lips as he draws near them.

With his hands back on my waist, he tugs me to him, and I fall onto his chest. A strong rhythmic heartbeat thumps against me while I place my arms around his thin waist.

“Are you gonna kiss like Ita and Tito do?” Olivia asks, calling my parents by the nicknames she gave them when she was a year old. “’Cause that’s really gross.”

Camden’s laughter erupts from his chest, and I press a hand to my lips, savoring the sound as it ruins me in the most amazing way.

“Livvy, sweetie”—Camden kneels down in front of her and gathers her in his arms—“I plan on kissing your mom a whole lot. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Olivia settles in his arms without any misgivings and peers up at him with the innocence of youth. His fingertips brush along her jawline. As our daughter slowly accepts her dad into her life, my heart crashes behind my rib cage in violent happiness.

Walking back to the forgotten pancakes, I let Camden and Olivia have their moment. There’ll be questions when we finally tell her the truth, but we’ll get to those in time. For now, my family is complete. Joy radiates off every inch of my kitchen.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I watch them interact once he places Olivia on the kitchen counter, farthest away from the stove. Adoration pours from his eyes as he devours her constant chatter. The pangs of the night before disappear as the purity of the moment seeps in its place.

Olivia peeks around Camden to me, shifting her eyes when she catches me watching them. When he pushes away her overabundance of wild hair and whispers something in her ear, she giggles.

“Whatever you two are planning, it isn’t going to work,” I warn.

Neither of them pays me any attention as they conspire against me.

“I feel like an intruder in my own home,” I say.