Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) (27 page)

And I love them even more. My dad for loving Camden, and Camden for loving my dad.

When we go back inside, Camden stands by our couch and stares off into space. I take his cold hands in mine, holding on to him with my hands, trying to warm him. When he looks at me, I offer him a small smile that he returns.

“What do you want to watch?” I ask him.

“Remember the day your parents took me in?” He pulls me to his side, his fingers caressing the exposed skin on my upper arm.

“Yeah. My mom decorated the house with balloons, and we ate pizza on the couch while we watched
Iron Man
.” My heart beats wildly in my chest as I remember that day. How nervous I was. How completely perfect it turned out. How similar it felt when he came home from the rehab center.

“
Iron Man
is still my favorite movie.”

“Great.” I grin, standing up and walking to the television. “I have it on DVD.”

I feel Camden’s eyes bore into me while I put the DVD into the player. Like my dad did so many years ago, I give Camden the remote and wait for him to be ready to start the movie. I snuggle into his body, letting my head rest below his chin, and my skin fills with goose bumps as his fingers dance over my arm.

THIRTY-SEVEN

CAMDEN

My fingers tap the steering wheel of Yanelys’s car as I drive us down the street of Edward’s neighborhood. The trees on either side of the narrow road cast shadows in front of us. I pass his house for a second time and consider turning around, so we can go back home.

It took me most of the day and two movies to build up the courage to get in the car. Yanelys handed me her keys, letting me make the decision on where we drove. I hadn’t driven in years, but even without a driver’s license, being behind the wheel, having some semblance of control, centered me. At least until we reached his neighborhood.

“Cam”—Yanelys’s soft voice breaks the silence—“pull over.”

Without uttering a word, I do as she said, and I set the car in park beside a random driveway. Our eyes lock together. Worry creases her forehead, so I pull her to me and rest my forehead on hers. Our breaths mix together in a seductive dance, hers falling on my lips, warm and moist in the cool air of the car.

Desire burns in the pit of my stomach. Our lips touch, the burning growing, spreading. My tongue touches hers, and she moans softly in my mouth. My hands scramble to touch her, lifting the soft fabric of her shirt, and I run circles over her bra with my fingers. Just as my fingers work their way under her bra and I cup her breast, a loud knock on Yanelys’s window brings us back to the present. I salute the angry man standing on the curb with my middle finger while Yanelys stifles a laugh.

A smile falls from my lips, and I turn the car around, finally ready to meet Edward.

“Okay”—I take Yanelys’s hand—“let’s do this.”

Her fingers squeeze around mine. “I’m right here. Whatever you need.”

I wiggle my eyebrows, a coy smile playing on my face. “What if I need you back there?” I gesture toward the backseat.

She bites her bottom lip. “We can do that, too. After dark.”

Her cautious eyes meet mine, and need twists inside me.

“Stop looking at me like that, Yan, or I’m turning the car around and taking you straight to our bed.”

A blush creeps up her neck and plays on her cheeks. She’s so damn cute that I can hardly stand it. Smiling, I take our intertwined fingers to my lips and kiss her hand. Her chest lifts as her breath comes out, rough and just as urgent as mine.

I turn into Edward’s driveway, and without hesitating, Yanelys opens her car door, so I follow suit. I meet her in front of the car, and our hands immediately seek each other. Hand in hand, we walk toward uncertainty.

Before we reach the door, a large figure steps out, and I stop walking. He looks so much like my dad—like Herb, and it leaves me breathless. The constant fear of my childhood creeps in, but I do my best to swallow it down, not wanting my nerves to get the best of me.

“Mr. Riley?” Yanelys asks, pulling me along with her.

Edward squints as we approach him, and then his eyes grow wide in recognition. “Cam…Camden?” His voice shakes and I wonder if he sees my dad, too.

My lungs struggle for their next breath. Yanelys’s grip on me tightens and warmth spreads, chasing away the frigid despair.

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough as I take a step toward him. “I don’t know how to do this.” Letting go of Yanelys’s hand, I rub my face before I reach into my front pocket of my jeans and hand him the same letter Herb gave me seven years ago, the one that sent my life into a tailspin of unknowns, of distress. “Just read this.”

My outstretched hand shakes, but rather than take the letter, Edward steps forward and clasps my right shoulder for a few beats before he says, “Come inside.”

When neither Yanelys nor I move, he adds, “Please.”

Yanelys looks back at me, again giving me control of the situation and a decision that will alter my life once again. I nod once, and she gives me a hopeful small smile.

That’s what Yanelys is. What she offers me. Hope. And faith. And love without conditions.

Warm air greets me when we walk into Edward’s house, and we follow him into his living room.

He sits. Yanelys sits. I stand. I fidget.

On an exhale, I remove my coat and take a seat next to Yanelys. She takes my hand, rubbing her thumb in rhythmic circles.

Edward looks back at us, his eyes unbelieving that I’m here.

“It’s been years,” he stammers out. “Your dad…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

My jaw twitches.

“The last time I saw you was on your second birthday. Your dad…he got angry while I was playing with you, and he kicked me out. I wasn’t welcome after that.” He wrings his fingers into tight knots, making the tips of them red.

“Because you slept with my mom?” I ask, my eyes holding his, not letting him look away.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. His foot starts tapping, but his gaze never wavers. “I know how this must look to you, but I loved your mom. I loved you.”

I flinch at his words, and my own foot starts tapping while I squeeze Yanelys’s fingers tighter.

“Do you still love her?”

“Camden…”

“It’s a simple question, Edward. Forget Herb. Forget me. My mom—do you still love her?”

“Yes.” His admission is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“Okay.” I stand up, taking Yanelys with me. “Read the letter. I’ll be in the car, waiting for you.”

“Wh—I don’t understand.” His eyes dart from mine to Yanelys, confusion clear in his expression.

“Read the damn letter, Edward. My mom needs your help.”

I don’t wait for a response. I simply walk out of the living room, my heart thrashing inside my chest. I open his door and make a quick dash to the car. When I reach for the car door, slender arms wrap around my waist. I turn around and hold on to Yanelys.

Inhale and exhale.

Each breath falls on her dark hair as she buries her face into my chest. I sink my hands into her hair and methodically comb my fingers through the thick strands. My breathing steadies. My heart continues its rage-filled quest to beat out of my chest.

“You’re going to ask Edward to talk to your mom with you?” Yanelys asks.

“I don’t think I can reach her, Yan, but maybe Edward can.”

“After reading the letter, what if he wants to be a part of your life and get to know you?”

I sigh, rough and loud. “I’m almost twenty-five years old. It’s kind of late for him to play daddy.”

“That’s not his fault.” Her voice pleads with me.

My fingers continue to braid through her hair. “I have a dad,” I remind her. “I don’t need another one.”

“What about a friend?” Edward’s voice hits me.

Painfully, I close my eyes shut.

“Are you going to help my mom or not?” I open my eyes and meet his from over Yanelys’s head.

“Camden,” Yanelys breathes my name in warning and she pulls away from me.

“It’s fine,” Edward tells her. “Of course I’ll help your mom.” He swallows hard. “How can I help her?”

Rather than answer, I laugh and shake my head.

“Let’s go.” I open the car door while Yanelys scurries to the passenger side.

“Wha—now?”

My eyes narrow, and a humorless smile plays across my lips as the hatred I hold for my parents flows through my veins. “No,” I tell him, “maybe we should wait another day and see if she finally overdoses and dies.”

“Camden Riley,” Yanelys scolds from the other side of my car at the same time Edward asks, “Overdoses?”

“What?” I shoot her a pained expression, and her eyes soften.

“Can you excuse us for a minute, Mr. Riley?” Yanelys gets into the car before he has a chance to answer.

After she shuts her car door, I open mine and take my seat behind the steering wheel where I drum my fingers.

“Cam,” she says quietly, her hand going to my thigh and squeezing, “do you remember how well Livvy took the news that you were her dad?”

“This is different.” My voice comes out raw as I remember the moment she put her arms around my neck and told me she loved me. “He’s the reason my dad hated me. Why he couldn’t stand to see me unless it was to hit me.”

Sorrow and anger hit me hard, making my head pulse with the beginning of a migraine.

“So, you blame him for your dad being an abusive asshole?” she asks, her frustration simmering to the surface.

“Yeah!” I shout. “If he hadn’t fucked my mom—”

“You wouldn’t be alive,” she interrupts. “You wouldn’t be sitting here with me. Livvy wouldn’t be alive. He slept with your mom, but it was Herb who hurt you.” Her voice softens as her eyes seek mine. “Not Edward. That man”—she points to where Edward is waiting outside the car—“he cares about you. Don’t be afraid to let him.” Her fingers touch my face and trace over my lips. “Just give him a chance. If he’s as much of a prick as Herb was, I’ll take a bat to his back, and he’ll wish we never stepped foot on his doorstep.”

Despite myself, I chuckle, the image of Yanelys defending me playing perfectly in my mind.

“Fine,” I whisper, making her smile.

I bring her to me, lightly kissing her on her lips, before I roll down the window and ask Edward to come into the car.

The drive to the run-down area where my mom lives is quiet with only the sound of the engine to break the silence.

“Stay close to me,” I tell Yanelys when I put the car in park.

When I asked her to come with me, I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I thought about was how scared I was of seeing my mom again, knowing she’d reject my offer. I never once thought of the dangers I’d expose Yanelys to in the dark alleys or abandoned buildings my mom called home.

Our footsteps fall on the hard ground, echoing into the darkness of the looming night. I guide Yanelys and Edward around the other homeless people living on the streets as I make our way to my mom’s favorite spot.

“Maureen…your mom—she lives here?” Edward asks, his throat bobbing, when I walk through a broken door into a dilapidated building.

His fear and anguish hit me, and I stop walking to take him in. I don’t know this man, but I see and understand his despair. He loves my mom. Through the years, he never stopped loving her. And, suddenly, I came into his life, without warning or preamble, and I threw him into the downward spiral that had been my life.

“I’m sorry, Edward,” I say, sympathy washing over me. “I never met the woman you fell in love with. She was a horrible mom, but maybe it wasn’t her fault.” I stop, my voice cracking, and my hands go to my face. “She’s my mom, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive her, but I know addiction. I can’t help her—I know that—but Herb thought if she had any chance of being saved, it was by you. If you don’t want to do this…” I trail off, not really wanting to give him an easy out.

Edward breathes heavily, taking me in. “I have to try.” His words come out strangled, but he steps forward, putting a tentative hand on my shoulder. When I don’t move away from his touch, he says, “I’m sorry I left. I didn’t know how bad it was. Your dad…” He coughs. “Herb hated me after he found out about your mom and me, but I never thought he’d lied about the paternity test. I never imagined he’d lie about that or that he’d hurt you or your mom. I would’ve done something. I—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupt. “It’s done; it’s in the past. I’ve moved on from it.”

“But I just learned about it. I’m trying to come to grips with what I turned my back on, and damn it, Camden, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for everything.” He looks at me, sincerity and remorse spilling from behind his eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” Our eyes lock for a few seconds before I swallow the tension and turn away from him. “She should be in here somewhere,” I say, wanting to get the night over with.

Yanelys’s hand touches mine, and I tightly grip her fingers with my own. In silence, we pass through the corridors, stepping over a few sleeping figures. I sense my mom the moment we enter the room she’s staying in. It takes a few beats of my erratic heart for me to spot her tired figure leaning against the dirty wall with a pipe pressed between her lips.

“Mom,” I whisper.

Edward’s eyes dart toward the figure I’m staring at, but she never hears me or sees us approach.

“Mom.” I bend down in front of her.

Her bloodshot eyes look back at me, but her gaze passes over me and settles on Edward.

“Maureen,” he says, crouching down beside me and taking her hand in his. “My beautiful Maureen.” He pulls her to him and cradles her small figure on his lap.

“Is this real?” she asks, pressing her face against his chest. Her pipe falls to the ground with a loud crash. “Ed, are you real?” She touches a shaky hand to his face and sobs when her fingers make contact. “You’re here. How?”

“Camden found me,” he whispers into her thinning hair.

“Cam?” she asks, her eyes clearing when they see me.

Unease crosses her face, and she stands up on unsteady legs. Her anger hits me in waves, so I stand up as well, but I hold my ground when Yanelys takes my hand and leans her head onto my shoulder.

“Why?” My mom’s eyes narrow in accusation.