Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) (8 page)

“This has always been my home.” He looks at my mom and me. “Thanks for letting me live here.”

Camden turns his attention to the remote control in his hand and presses play, letting his words hang in the air and fill us.

My splintered heart breaks even further for Camden but not for his hurt or his losses. My heart hurts for those things, but what kills me, what shatters me, is his love.

Life has lashed out at him, has beaten him, leaving behind nothing more than a prisoner of life. But no matter what his past has taught him, he still reaches for love. To love and be loved.

NINE

CAMDEN

Piercing brown eyes stare at me, taking me in, and I wonder what they see.

Does she see me as the boy I used to be or simply the pieces of me left behind?

Because I’m no longer whole. Or maybe I never was, and Yanelys only made me feel like I was.

Disjointed, muddled pieces. The remnants of a life wasted. Young and broken and tired. So damn tired.

It’s been years since I felt my father’s belt against my skin, but the memory lives in every cell, awakening at the slightest touch. My mom’s words and insults assault my brain, always reminding me of who I am. And whom I belong to.

My dad died almost seven years ago, and my mom’s addiction holds her in the poisonous prison cell of her mind. Somehow they still own me. My mind and body have never really belonged to me but to them. Everything is theirs.

Even though I ache for Yanelys’s warm touch, I’ll push her away just as quickly. Even a simple touch will trigger memories—both good and bad. Like a sad movie playing on the screen of my mind.

I turn away from Yanelys, not wanting her to see the pieces she has never been able to put together. An unfinished puzzle with broken chunks and missing bits. Marred and scarred and unable to be redesigned so that I could portray a better picture.

I am my past. Ugly and polluted. Breathing but barely alive.

My breath counts the seconds as the silence in the room thickens. I feel Yanelys’s stare burn into my flesh, but I can’t bear to meet her gaze again. When I finally find the courage to look at her, I open my mouth to apologize for being here, for leaving in the first place, for existing, but a large sob escapes her lips, and she backs away until she’s out the door.

“Yan,” I whisper her name when the door closes behind her. I let out a huff of air and wait for her to come back.

Seconds turn into minutes, and slowly, the numbness I was once granted lifts, and my body feels as if it has been buried under a sea of agony. My skin burns, my bones ache, my limbs and organs radiate a pain I’m not sure I can survive.

“You hurt her,” Carmen says, approaching my bed from the door. She leans over me to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You hurt all of us.”

“I didn’t mean to.” I look into her sad eyes, and pain shoots throughout my body when I rub my hands over my face. “I was trying to make it easier for you.”

That’s the honest-to-God truth.

Yanelys, Carmen, and Santiago were my family, my everything, and with my father’s pending death and the money I was destined to inherit, I’d have wound up dragging them through a hell none of them should have to go through. That was my burden, not theirs. They’d carried enough of my load. And for what? To carry more? It had to end. At some point, it had to come to an end.

So, at seventeen years old, I made the hardest decision of my life. The night before I left, I crept into Yanelys’s room and watched her sleep as I lay next to her. The rise and fall of her chest, her eyelashes fluttering as she slept, her lips turning to a small smile. I traced my fingers over her cheek and ran them through her hair. I memorized the feel of her skin and the smell of her hair, knowing I’d need it in the future.

The following morning, I walked her to the door of her first period class and stared at her one last time. She blushed under the intensity of my eyes, but still, I held her gaze and again tried to memorize every angle of her face, every eyelash, and every strand of hair on her head. I folded my fingers between hers, and when the bell rang, I kissed her, our final kiss. When I walked away from her, I silently prayed for forgiveness.

I stayed away from them not because I wanted to, but because if I saw them for even a moment, my resolve would crumble, and I’d beg them to take me back.

Even now, I know they’re better off without me, without the demons I’ve taken on. I’ve done my best to pretend they don’t exist, that my time with them didn’t affect me.

“You made it harder,” Carmen replies.

“So, how do I make it right?” The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I’m surprised to find that I don’t want to continue running. I want to make things right. Selfishly, I want Yanelys to piece me together until I’m no longer my grim past but something, someone, with a future.

I want to be saved—not just from the things I’ve experienced, but from myself as well. Mainly from myself.

“I tickle Carmen’s feet when she’s mad at me,” Santiago jokes and I surprise myself even further when I laugh.

“You want me to tickle Carmen’s feet?” I joke back.

“If you touch Carmen’s feet, you and I will have some words,” Santiago warns, making Carmen laugh.

After lightly slapping Santiago on the shoulder, Carmen sits on my bed and takes my hand. “You made a mistake, Cam, and it cost you the only girl you’ve ever loved.” Her sad eyes turn to Santiago, who nods his head. “You can’t undo a mistake, but you can fix it.”

“What are you going to do to win her back?” Santiago asks with a smirk. “I love my daughter, but she’s as stubborn as her mom. She’ll fight you and push you away, so make sure you push back even harder.”

“And don’t give up, Cam. Beg if you have to. But, for both of your sakes, don’t give up,” Carmen adds.

Pain throbs where the fire licked my skin, but worse than that is the pain in my chest. Every agonizing beat of my heart reminds me of one thing. I’ve lost Yanelys.

I smile at Santiago and Carmen, but the attempt makes my lips tremble. Unable to flee from the memories, I turn my face away from them.

Away from her memory.

The girl who believed in Karma and hoped for better days. The girl who never gave up on me and spent her days laughing and nights crying with me. The girl who made me strong and loved me until my weaknesses didn’t exist. The girl who picked me up every time I had fallen.

TEN

YANELYS

FIFTEEN YEARS OLD

After a full day at Disney World, Camden and I go down to the hotel’s arcade room while my parents eat dinner. Being the only ones in there, we run around, screaming and knocking into games. We giggle and play-tackle one another while we dash across the arcade floor.

This is our life, the one we were re-gifted. It was a steep climb, but we got through the pain and anguish. The constant drain of the fear-filled years is gone. It’s only a memory away, so we cherish and nurture the good to keep away the bad.

When Camden takes my hand in his and pulls me to the water-gun game—the one where you shoot a target and whoever fills up the target with water the fastest wins—I follow. After Camden puts in our tokens, I take my place behind the water gun and squint my eyes, so I can better see my target.

As soon as the light turns green, indicating we can shoot, I press the trigger. With all of my concentration on the task at hand, I startle easily when water hits the side of my face and makes its way down to my ear. I jump up from my seat, screaming, as I bat my ear with my hand, only to hear Camden howling with laughter.

While he rocks back and forth on his seat, I take my gun, point it at him, and shoot. Laughter stops. And when he opens his mouth at me, I aim for it.

His eyes narrow, and he reaches for me in retaliation, and I do what any sane girl would do. I run. But he’s faster than me, and he quickly has me by my waist and is pulling me toward him. Sitting me on his lap, he turns the gun around so that it’s pointing at me. He shoots, and I laugh while trying to block the water with my free hand.

When our time is up and we both lose with the sudden stop of the water flow, I lean back into his chest, breathless from all the laughter. Camden moves his hands from my waist to my neck, moving my hair to one side. My breathing stops altogether when he presses his warm lips against my neck.

I slightly turn my head to face him and find his eyes looking back at me with both fear and desire. I try on my best sexy smile—you know, the one I’ve practiced in the mirror but haven’t perfected yet—and he traces his thumb over my bottom lip, making them part at his tender touch.

His bright blue eyes wash over me, taking in my face, as if it were the first time he’s seeing me. I blush at the intensity of his stare, but when I bow my head, he slightly touches my chin, and I look back at him.

Licking his lips, he looks down at mine and leans into me. Raw instincts take over, and I curve into him until our lips meet. The bells from the games around us melt away, and all I hear is Camden’s heavy breathing.

The time for pretend has come to an abrupt end, and I open my heart to love. The tender moment is driven by a fire that has been burning inside of us since we were kids.

Camden opens his mouth, and I feel his tongue touch my lips, so I part them for him. Time stands still. The hands of time have forgotten to move as Camden explores my soul. Soft and slow, our kiss deepens, but out of breath, I eventually pull away.

“Should I apologize?” Camden asks so low that I barely hear him.

My head snaps back at him in surprise. “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

Hurt and embarrassment cloak over me, and I get up from his lap while he thinks over my question.

“No. I mean…” Camden runs his hands through his long hair and sighs in frustration. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

He stands up and paces, his legs pounding on the floor. When he stops and looks at me, I see the uncertainty in his eyes, so I walk to him and put my arms around his waist while he rests his chin on the top of my head.

“You kissed me,” I murmur into his chest.

“I kissed you,” he breathes.

Wanting him to see me when I speak, I pull away from our embrace. “It wasn’t my lips you kissed though, Cam, but my heart.”

His lips spread into a smile before he leans down and kisses me again. My heart stammers and then picks up pace when I look into his adoring eyes.

“Let’s go outside,” he says, taking my hand.

When the doors slide open for us, the hot, humid air hits us. I lift my hair up and put it in a tight bun, hoping that small act will prevent it from frizzing. As soon as I finish, Camden takes my hand again, his large hand immediately swallowing my small one. My eyes follow the length of our arms to where our fingers touch, connecting us, and when I look back at Camden, I find him smiling at me.

“Like a puzzle piece”—he holds up our hands—“we fit.”

My cheeks brighten under his gaze, but when I try to turn away, he tips my chin toward him and kisses my forehead.

“You heal my brokenness. Only you, Yan.”

Once we get to the pool, we take off our flip-flops and ease our feet into the water as the silence of the night surrounds us. I don’t know what to say, so I find my voice in the stars and look up at them with newfound love blooming in my heart.

“What are you thinking about?” Camden asks me.

“I’m not,” I answer honestly. “I’m just looking at the stars and enjoying what we have. You?”

“I’m thinking about”—he leans in and kisses my cheek—“how I haven’t thought about running away in three years.”

“Good.” I nod and then lean my head against his broad shoulder. “Because this is your home. I’m your home,” I clarify as I look away, embarrassed by my confession.

He cups my chin in his hand and forces me to look back at him. “You’ve always been my home, Yan.”

His lips take mine, but this time, it’s with a ferocity that wasn’t there before. I moan against his kiss as I pull his head closer to me. His hands reach beneath my shirt, and his long fingers trace lazy circles on the small of my back.

I swear when my phone chirps, alerting me of a text, and Camden and I both pull away from each other with our breathing coming in fast and labored.

“It’s my mom.” I show him the text and wrinkle my nose, making him laugh.

“We can’t keep Mom waiting.”

Camden takes my hand in his, and we walk back to our hotel room where my parents await us in the three-bedroom suite they rented. When we walk in, my parents greet us from the sofa, and when Camden drops my hand and steps away from me, my mom and I both curiously look at him. My mom arches an eyebrow at me in question, and I shrug my shoulders.

Since we were kids, we’ve always held hands. Us kissing shouldn’t change anything.

After we say good night, we go to our separate rooms, and although Camden only sneaks into my bedroom at home when he’s had a nightmare, I still expect him to come to me tonight.

I mean, things between us have changed. Now more than ever, we should want to sleep together.

My cheeks heat at the thought and I fan my face to cool it down while a sudden pulsing between my legs picks up in pace.

Just sleep, right?

Frustrated, I leave my room and go to the kitchen, loudly opening and closing cabinets, unsure of what I’m looking for. Unless, of course, the answer is Camden, and I already know where to find him.

I glare at the door to his room, and when I salute it with my middle finger, Camden opens the door and walks out. I try to play it off, but his grin lets me know he saw me throwing a temper tantrum.

“What are you doing awake?” I accuse.

“You were making enough noise to wake up the dead.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I curl into him in an awkward embrace that ends with him stepping away from me. His eyes, wide and shocked, dart to my parents’ door and then to me.

“I thought you’d come to my room tonight.” My bottom lip trembles, and I bite it, so it doesn’t give me away.

“Oh, Yan,” he sighs my name as he pulls me into his arms. “I wanted to, but—Yan, I love you.”