Camden by Shey Stahl

 

I turn around, coming face-to-face with the man I made a promise to.

No.

Fuck no. He didn’t just see that.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

But he did and I really shouldn’t be surprised. I knew it’d come down to this. Didn’t you? We were fooling ourselves thinking it wouldn’t come to this.

Wide black eyes pin me. Tiller steps forward. I know this side of Tiller. He’s volatile, and there’s no reasoning with him. I glare at him as he blocks my path. My heart hammers hard in my chest, my thoughts racing. Look at the way he’s looking at me. Hatred. Disappointment. There it is. There’s that feeling I’ve kept tucked away. His disapproval. I’m not good enough for her. All of it washes over me and suddenly tears burn my eyes, but they don’t break.

My eyes shift from River, to Tiller, then back again, frantic.

It’s only seconds, but in those brief seconds, the world stops turning and everything I thought I knew about him crumbles.

I’m fourteen again. Not good enough for my dad.

I’m twenty-four and not good enough for the one I want to impress.

My heart should be racing. I should be panicking, but in that second, that fraction of time, I feel nothing.

Not a goddamn thing as I stare at Tiller

I’m frozen.

I blink and reality crashes into me. My words and body tremble, the thump in my chest making me painfully aware of the danger, and how this can potentially end.

He steps toward me, a wild fire burning in his dark eyes.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Stupidest fucking answer I could have given him.

His entire demeanor changes in that instant. Complete one-eighty. He sighs, his jaw tight, and then he draws in another breath, shaking his head. “Cute,” Tiller barks, his deadly glare insistent on mine. He laughs, shakes his head slowly from side to side, and growls out a breath. It’s not amusement. It’s that he’s even having this conversation. “I thought I told you to stay away from her.”

I stiffen, prepare and deflect the best I can. “She’s eighteen.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head violently. “No, fuck that. You fucking promised me,” he rages. “Where does your loyalty lie?”

I close my eyes and shake my head, disappointed he’s playing that card. “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

“Yep.” He nods, arrogantly, his shoulders squaring up. “This is how it’s going to be.”

River, defiant as the one accusing us of betraying him, gets in his face. “You have no right to be mad at him,” she spits because, hell, she’s savage, and if we go down, we go down together. She stands beside me, ready to defend. I place my hand on her shoulder, smile and step away, not wanting her to get hurt. I know what comes next.

Tiller’s jaw flexes, his fists clenched, chest rising and falling faster. “Give it your best shot.”

My throat tightens, I can feel my heart beating against my eyes, pulsing and consuming my thoughts. “I don’t want to fight you, Tiller.”

We stare at one another and I’m back to that track, ten years old, looking up to the epitome of badass. “Man enough to fuck my daughter but not enough to stand up to me? I always knew you weren’t good enough.”

I try to remind myself he’s angry and when he’s pissed off, he says what comes to mind. Still…. His words sting. They sting deep down to my soul, a rejection I knew was coming, but hadn’t quite prepared myself for.

A door opens and closes and in walks Roan, then Shade. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

My eyes slide to Roan, Shade, and then back to Tiller. Silence lingers, but for me and Tiller, it doesn’t. It rages. Festers. Destroys.

Roan smiles, despite the intense vibe in the room. “Payback, motherfucker.”

“This is completely fucking different and you know it,” Tiller shouts, and in a quick movement he shoves Roan into the wall, his hands fisting his shirt. “Back the fuck up.”

Roan raises an eyebrow, as if to say, motherfucker, did you just lay your hands on me? He doesn’t say that though. Instead, he shoves back against him. “How so?”

They don’t see how serious it is, how lost Tiller is in his rage. They don’t see what’s coming, but I do.

He turns back to me, Roan and Shade flanking his sides, shouting at him to leave this alone. “Tiller, think about this man,” Shade urges, grabbing a hold of his arms and yanking him away. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Tiller easily brushes him off. There’s something funny about anger when it’s redlined. Nothing touches it.

Roan tries to stop him too. “You touch him and I’m going to beat your ass,” he warns, but again, nothing. He can’t even get an arm on him in the two seconds it takes for Tiller to reach me.

My body is paralyzed. Numb. And then Tiller swings, leveling me with a right hook.

I stumble, River screams, but I can’t make anything else out before Tiller slams into me again as my head snaps back and into a window. There’s screaming, Shade and Roan are on him, it’s a fucking mess, but I do remember one very vivid detail.

I don’t protect myself.

I let him hit me because, remember when I told you I’m afraid to take a swing at someone? It’s the truth. I am. I always will be.

The next thing I remember, I’m lying in a pool of my own blood, bleeding heavily from the side of my head where my head went through the window.

“I should kill you.” Tiller’s voice booms through the whoosh of blood in my ears, every word digging deeper. “I wish I had it in me to do it.”

I try to focus on him, but I can’t. He’s blurry, but still, his words are there, engraved inside me. I always knew you weren’t good enough.

I deserved this.

I asked for it.

I got it.

I lied to him and it broke his heart that I didn’t say anything. All I had to do was admit it to him, and he gave me more than one chance to do it, yet I didn’t take him up on it. All he wanted was for me to admit I fucked up, stand up like a man, look him in the eye and say it.

And this is the consequence.