Camden by Shey Stahl
There are no words for this kind of pain as I once again stare at Tiller in my parents’ house.
I think about Camden when I left him in the hospital. His chin quivering and angry tears surfacing. I’ve never seen someone so broken. He’s silent, gone inside. This is deeper than his love for me. I never knew how close to the edge he was teetering and now he’s free-falling and I don’t know if I can fix it.
When the man you look up to, who protected you over the years, inflicts pain on the one who swore he’d never take your heart for granted. That’s how I feel about him when I walk through the door. The only reason I’m here is to grab my shit and leave. I have no intention of staying.
But as I walk through the door, other than it being full of people, Shade, Roan, the Wives, Willa…. Everyone is here trying to make sense of what happened. Camden’s admitted to the hospital with a concussion and small brain bleed they want to keep an eye on. It’s a mess. This is a fucking mess all because this man, the one who swore to protect me, couldn’t act like a fucking man.
Do you see him there on the couch, uninterested in everyone around him? He’s the one with a whiskey bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I haven’t seen my dad drink in fifteen years. Until today. Until he’d destroyed his best friend over something so stupid.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” Amberly yells at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s a fucking kid!”
Nothing. No answer. Dad stares straight ahead like she hadn’t said anything to him.
He takes a pull from his whiskey and rests it on his knee. I notice his hand is shaking. He looks like shit and I hope to hell he feels worse.
Roan’s the next in his face. If anyone is more upset than me, it’s Roan. He’s the one that tackled Tiller after Camden’s head hit the window in the living room. I wonder, had Roan not done that, would he have stopped?
“Stop acting like a fucking asshole and hear us.” Kicking Tiller’s leg, Roan gets right in his face, refusing to be ignored. “That kid worships you and the minute he does something you don’t like—you destroy him?”
Still, he doesn’t answer Roan.
I think he wants to say something, but he stops himself, his brow scrunched. His regret, it’s etched in every single emotion flashing in his eyes. But he doesn’t say anything to Roan’s verbal beating.
“Why do you think he was always here?” Roan stands straight, his posture stiff. “His dad got off on beating the crap out of him and reminding him he wasn’t good enough.” Roan doesn’t let up. “You’ve made mistakes in your life, hell, his wasn’t even a mistake. He fell in love. Why’s that so wrong?”
Finally, Tiller groans after taking a long pull from the whiskey. “You know why.”
Roan snorts, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s funny coming for you.”
Mom looks at me from across the room, as does Scarlet, who’s next to me. We have no idea what’s going to come next and if you know Tiller, you’re thinking the same thing, aren’t you? He’s combustible and you never know what’s going to spark a fire in him.
“Are you okay?” Scarlet whispers in my ear moving closer.
I nod, but am I? I’ve completely forgotten about being pregnant these last couple of hours because my attention has been on Camden. I place my hand on my stomach and feel the baby. He’s moving. “We’re fine.” I blow out a breath, trying to control my rapidly beating heart, but it’s no use. I’m free-falling into hell.
We’re? Is that what we are now? A we? Me and this baby? For so long through this pregnancy I’ve felt unattached in some ways, thinking something is going to go wrong and I can’t get attached to this little guy growing inside me. But I am. We’re a unit. It’s him and me and no matter what happens, I’m going to make it work for him. Which is why I’m leaving this house today.
“You should sit down,” Scarlet urges, motioning toward the kitchen island stools.
I keep one eye on Tiller and Roan, still arguing. “I can’t. I just came to get my stuff.”
“You’re actin’ like a fuckin’ cunt,” Roan yells at Tiller. “That was such a bitch move and you know it.”
I snap my eyes to my mom. She’s crying, silently, but you can tell, she’s angry at Tiller. We all are, but this is him. He reacts without regard to the consequences.
Suddenly dad sends the whiskey flying across the room as he stands. It smashes into the fireplace and bursts glass into the air. I jump at the sound and jolt back, my hand on my stomach. “You know what, fuck you, Roan!” Tiller yells, shoving Roan. “You act like you’re so fucking perfect and you’ve never did anything wrong in your life.”
“Eat a bag of dicks, ya piece of shit.” Roan rights himself, smirking. “I didn’t say I was perfect. We’re talking about you, man. When was the last time you owned up to anything? Your whole life you’ve acted on impulse. That’s how you got here, right?” Roan shoves his finger into Tiller’s chest. “But you destroyed him today. He held you on a goddamn throne. The king. His biggest fear in life wasn’t Jerad. It was disappointing you. All because he made the mistake of falling for your daughter. He felt he wasn’t good enough for you.”
Tiller’s jaw works back and forth and I can tell he wants to hit Roan. The only reason he’s not is because Amberly is in the room and he knows he’d have to answer to his wife. But he destroys another piece of my heart when he looks to me, then back to Roan. “He’s not.”
Hanging his head, Roan growls out a breath, as if he can’t believe he just said that. “That’s the worst thing you could have said. The worst!”
“Why?”
“Why isn’t he enough?” I step forward, refusing to stand in the shadows any longer. “Because I was raised in an untraditional world, one you created for me.” Pausing, I walk over to them and stand face-to-face with Tiller. “And when I fall for one of them, you think he’s not good enough for you?”
He stares at me, as if I haven’t said a word to him.
“You make him feel like he’s not enough, but put yourself in his shoes. You were once not good enough for me, remember?”
Dad’s jaw clenches and he stares at me coldly. “Drop it.”
“I won’t drop it, Tiller.” I stand in front of him, ready to defend my guy until the end. “You could have really hurt him and there was a time when you weren’t good enough for Mom. Remember? Grandpa Doug barely fucking talks to you.”
“I said,” Tiller seethes. “Drop it, goddamn it.”
I don’t want to, but mom grabs a hold of my arms. “River….”
There’s a flicker of emotion that comes across Tiller’s face. Compassion? He replaces it with the cold stare again. He slants his head so we’re looking at each other. “Is he okay?”
His question tugs at so many things inside of me. It’s a slap to my face. I bite my lip, holding my breath and fighting back the tears I don’t want falling. Anger rises inside me, festering to the very edge. “I don’t even want to answer you. You don’t deserve to know.”
“Just tell me he’s okay.”
“What the fuck does it matter to you, asshole?”
He glares at me. “Watch your mouth.”
“How could you do that to him? He loves you. He looks up to you, has his entire life, and you destroyed all that today.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt him that bad,” Tiller finally says, his voice breaking. He blinks, tilts his head and his eyes gloss over. He’s nearing tears. He swallows, sucks in another breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to.”
Willa interjects, and what I want and need to say are pushed aside to deal with the real issues at hand. Tiller put one of their employees in the hospital and people are asking questions.
When the wave of emotion hits me, it nearly knocks me off my feet, utterly unexpected, and I rush to the bathroom just before I vomit. As the memories of the last hour surface again, it’s not a hard decision to make. I need to get out while I still can. I can’t stay here any longer. I’ll live in my car if Camden doesn’t want me at his house.
After packing my shit up, Shade finds me outside. I’m still crying and he looks just as distraught.
I’m bawling again, trying to cram my bags into the car. “I can’t stay here any longer,” I rush to tell him.
“It’s okay. Shhhh.” Shade turns me around, and wipes my eyes with his thumbs and then pulls me into his chest. “Is he okay?”
“I think so. They got him stitched up and stable, but emotionally, this completely broke him. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”
“I know, honey.” His lips press to my forehead. “I know.”
“Why does he have to be so mean?”
A light, forced chuckle rolls through Shade’s chest. “I don’t think even he knows why.”
That’s the problem; Tiller doesn’t understand it.
