Beautiful Oblivion (23 page)

Jorie winked at me. “Must have been a guy on the phone.”

“Sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Everyone waved and said their good-byes to me, and I jogged out to the Smurf, nearly busting my ass when I tried to stop. The tall security lights were on, breaking up the darkness. Freezing rain stung where it touched my skin and made tiny tapping noises against the parked vehicles. No wonder Trenton said the roads were worse. I couldn’t remember when we’d had this much wintery precipitation so early in the season.

The Smurf resisted for a few moments before starting up, but within minutes of Trenton’s call, I was driving carefully back to Skin Deep. Trenton was waiting outside in his puffy blue coat, his arms crossed over his chest. He walked to my side and waited, watching me expectantly.

I cranked down the window halfway. “Get in!”

He shook his head. “C’mon, Cami. You know I’m weird about that.”

“Quit it,” I said.

“I have to drive,” he said, shivering.

“You don’t trust me by now?”

He shook his head again. “It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. I just . . . I can’t. It messes with my head.”

“All right, all right,” I said, sliding away from him, over the console, and into the passenger seat.

Trenton opened the door and hopped in, rubbing his hands together. “Shit on a stick, it’s cold! Let’s move to California!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, staring at me with both shock and remorse in his eyes.

I wanted to tell him it was okay, but I was too busy handling the guilt and shame that washed over me in huge, suffocating waves. T.J. hadn’t contacted me in weeks, but besides a respectful amount of time to wait between relationships, this was particularly insulting—to T.J. and to Trenton.

I pulled two cigarettes from my pack and put them both in my mouth, lighting them simultaneously. Trenton pulled one out of my mouth and took a drag. When he pulled into my parking spot in front of my apartment, he turned to me. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“I know,” I said. “It’s really okay. Let’s just forget about it.”

Trenton nodded, clearly relieved that I wasn’t going to make a big deal of it. He didn’t want to acknowledge whatever I had left with T.J. any more than I did. Pretending to be oblivious was much more comfortable.

“Can I ask you for a favor, though?” Trenton nodded, waiting for my request. “Don’t say anything to your brothers about us just yet. I know Thomas, Taylor, and Tyler aren’t in town much, but I’m not really ready to have the talk with Travis the next time he comes in to the Red. He knows about T.J. It’s just . . .”

“No, I get it. As far as Travis will know, everything is still the same. But he’s going to know something’s up.”

I smiled. “If you tell him you’re working on me, he won’t be so surprised later.”

Trenton chuckled and nodded.

We both ran to the door of my apartment, and I shoved the key in the lock. When it clicked, I pushed through, and Trenton shut it behind him. I turned up the temperature on the thermostat, and then started to walk toward my bedroom, but there was a knock on the door. I froze, and turned slowly on my heels. Trenton watched me for some sign of who it might be. I shrugged.

Before either of us could make it to the door, the person on the other side pounded violently with the side of their fist. I winced, my shoulders shooting up to my ears. When it was quiet again, I looked out the peephole.

“Fuck!” I whispered, looking around. “It’s my dad.”

“Camille! You open this goddamn door!” he yelled. He slurred his words together. He’d been drinking.

I turned the knob, but before I could pull, Dad was pushing through, charging straight at me. I trotted backward, stopping when my back slammed into the doorjamb leading to the hallway.

“I am sick of your shit, Camille! You think I don’t know what you’re up to? You think I don’t see the disrespect?”

Trenton was immediately next to me, his arm between my dad and me, his hand on Dad’s chest. “Mr. Camlin, you need to step away. Right now.” His voice was calm, but firm.

Surprised to see someone else inside the apartment, Dad backed away for just a moment before leaning into Trenton’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is personal business, so you can get the fuck out!” he said, jerking his head toward the door.

I shook my head, pleading with my eyes for Trenton not to leave me alone. My father had spanked me when I was a child, and backhanded me a time or two, but my mother had always been there to distract him, and even redirect his anger. This was the first time I’d seen him physically violent since middle school, because Mom finally stood up for herself and told him that the next time he drank would be the last time—and he knew she meant it.

Trenton frowned and lowered his chin, with the same look in his eyes he had right before he attacked an enemy. “I don’t want to fight you, sir, but if you don’t leave, right now, I’m going to make you leave.”

Dad lunged at Trenton, and they crashed into the end table next to the couch. The lamp crashed to the floor with them. My father’s fist was flying, but Trenton dodged it, and moved to restrain him.

“No! Stop it! Dad! Stop it!” I screamed. My hands covered my mouth as they fought.

Dad pushed away from Trenton and stood up, stomping toward me. Trenton scrambled to his feet and grabbed him, pulling him back, but Dad continued to reach for me. The look in my father’s eyes was monstrous, and for the first time I realized exactly what my mother had gone through. Being on the wrong end of that kind of rage was terrifying.

Trenton slung Dad to the ground and pointed down as he stood over him. “Stay! The fuck! Down!”

Dad was breathing hard, but he stumbled to his feet, obstinate. His body weaved when he spoke. “I’m going to fuckin’ kill you. And then I’m going to teach her what happens when she disrespects me.”

So quick I nearly missed it, Trenton reared back and sent his fist into my father’s nose. Blood exploded as Dad stumbled back, and then fell forward, hitting the ground so hard he bounced. It was quiet and very still for several seconds. Dad didn’t move, he just lay there, facedown.

“Oh, Jesus!” I said, rushing over to him. I was afraid he was dead, not because I’d miss him, but for the trouble Trenton would be in if he’d killed him. I tugged on my father’s shoulder until he rolled over. Blood was streaming from a gash across the bridge of his nose. His head fell to the side. He was unconscious.

“Oh, thank God. He’s alive,” I said. I covered my mouth again, and looked to Trenton. “I’m so sorry. I am
so
sorry.”

He sat back on his knees in a state of disbelief. “What the fuck just happened?”

I shook my head, and closed my eyes. When my brothers found out about this, it would be war.

O
H MY GOD!” MOM SAID WHEN SHE OPENED THE DOOR.
“What did you do, Felix? What happened?”

Dad moaned.

She helped us carry him to the couch, and then covered her mouth. She ran to get a pillow and blanket, and then made him comfortable. She hugged me.

“He’s been drinking,” I said.

She pulled away from me, and tried to play off the news with a worried smile. “He doesn’t drink anymore. You know that.”

“Mom,” I said. “Smell him. He’s drunk.”

She looked down at her husband, and touched her mouth with trembling fingers.

“He came to my apartment. He attacked me.” She jerked her head to look at me with wide eyes. “If Trent hadn’t been there, Mom . . . he was set on beating the hell out of me. Trent had to hold him back, and he still came at me.”

Mom looked down at Dad again. “He was angry you didn’t come for lunch. And then Chase started in. Oh, God. This family is falling apart.” She reached down and yanked the pillow out from under Dad’s head. His skull cracked against the arm. She hit him once with the pillow, and then again. “Goddamn you!” she yelled.

I held her arms, and then she dropped the pillow and began to cry.

“Mom? If the boys find out that Trent did this . . . I’m afraid they’ll come after him.”

“I can handle it, babe. Don’t worry about me,” Trenton said, reaching out for me.

I shrugged away from him. “Mom?”

She nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she meant what she said. She looked down at him again, nearly snarling.

“We’d better go,” I said, motioning to Trenton.

“What the hell?” Coby said, stepping out from the dark hallway into the living room. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. His eyes were heavy and tired.

“Coby,” I said, reaching out to him. “Listen to me. It wasn’t Trent’s fault.”

“I heard,” Coby said, frowning. “He really attacked you?”

I nodded. “He’s drunk.”

Coby looked up at Mom. “What are you going to do?”

“What?” she said. “What do you mean?”

“He attacked Camille. He’s a grown fucking man, and he attacked your twenty-two-year-old daughter. What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

“Coby,” I warned.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re going to threaten him to leave, and then stay. Like you always do.”

“I don’t know this time,” Mom said. She looked down at him, watched him for a while, and then hit him with the pillow again. “Stupid!” she said, her voice cracking.

“Coby, please don’t say anything,” I begged. “We don’t need a Maddox-versus-Camlin situation on top of this.”

Coby glared at Trenton, and then nodded at me. “I owe you one.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

Trenton drove us to his dad’s house, pulled into the drive, and left the Smurf running. “Christ, Cami. I still can’t believe I hit your dad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand. The humiliation was almost too much to bear.

“We’re having Thanksgiving at our house this year. I mean, we have it every year, but we’re actually cooking. A real turkey. Dressing. Dessert. The works. You should come.” I broke down, then, and Trenton pulled me into his arms.

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, opening the door. “I have to go to work.” I got out, and Trenton did, too, leaving the driver’s-side door open. He pulled me into his arms to ward off the cold.

“You should call in. Stay here with me and Dad. We’ll watch old westerns. It’ll be the most boring night of your life.”

I shook my head. “I need to work. I need to be busy.”

Trenton nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He cupped each side of my face, kissing my forehead.

I pulled away from him. “You can’t come tonight. Just in case my brothers find out what happened.”

Trenton laughed once. “I’m not afraid of your brothers. Not even all three of them at the same time.”

“Trent, they’re my family. They can be assholes, but they’re all I’ve got. I don’t want them to get hurt any more than I want you to.”

Trenton hugged me, this time squeezing me tight. “They’re not all you’ve got. Not anymore.”

I buried my face in his chest.

He kissed the top of my hair. “Besides, that’s one thing you don’t mess with.”

“What?” I asked, pressing my cheek against his chest.

“Family.”

I swallowed hard, and then rose up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I have to go.” I hopped up into the driver’s side of the Smurf and slammed the door.

Trenton waited for me to roll down the window before he responded. “Fine. I’ll stay home tonight. But I’m callin’ Kody so he can keep an eye on you.”

“Please don’t tell him what happened,” I pleaded.

“I won’t. I know he’ll tell Raegan, and she’ll tell Hank, and then your brothers will find out.”

“Exactly,” I said, appreciating that someone else saw how protective Hank was of me. “See you later.”

“Is it all right if I come by after you get home?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Can you be there when I get home?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be in Dad’s truck.”

Trenton stood in the yard, watching me back out of the driveway. I drove to the Red, and was thankful that it was the busiest Sunday night we’d seen in a while. Freezing temperatures were a deterrent to tattoos, but clearly not to liquor, flirting, and dancing. The girls still wore sleeveless club tanks and dresses, and I shook my head at every woman who walked in shivering. I worked my ass off, slinging beers and mixing cocktails, which was a nice change from a long day at Skin Deep, and then went home. As promised, Trenton was sitting in Jim’s bronze pickup next to my parking spot.

He walked me inside, and helped me clean up the mess we’d left when we carried my dad out to the Jeep. The pieces of the lamp jingled and clattered as we dumped them into the trash can. Trenton propped the end table back onto its broken legs.

“I’ll fix that tomorrow.”

I nodded, and then retreated to my room. Trenton waited in my bed while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. When I crawled under the covers next to him, he pulled me against his bare skin. He had undressed down to his boxers, and had only been in my bed for less than five minutes, but the sheets were already warm. I shivered against him, and he squeezed me tighter.

After a few minutes of silence, Trenton sighed. “I’ve been thinking about dinner tomorrow night. I think we should wait a little while. It just seems like . . . I don’t know. I feel like we should wait.”

I nodded. I didn’t want our first date to be weighed down with thoughts of the earlier events of that day, either.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice low and tired. “Those drawings on the walls. Are they yours?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“They’re good. Why don’t you draw me something?”

“I don’t really do that anymore.”

“You should start. You have my art on your walls,” he said, nodding to a couple of framed drawings. One was a penciled sketch of my hands, one lying on top of the other, my fingers displaying my first tattoo, the other was a charcoal of an emaciated girl holding a skull that I had to have when he’d finished. “I’d like to have some of your originals.”