Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
She settled herself against him, stroking her hand up and down his forearm. Cam’s chest rose with a deep breath like he was going underwater.
“The man who did it, is he dead yet?” Jo had never used her family’s power for evil, but she had never felt the black rage enveloping her at the sound of that man’s name, and she knew that she would if that man was still alive.
“Yeah, he’s dead.”
“How’d he die?”
“He’s just dead.”
“Okay.” Mental note to revisit later. “When did this happen?”
“Off and on from the time I was ten ’til I was eleven. Maybe a year or so.” He pressed his eyes closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks. “I can’t do details, Jo, so don’t ask me.”
“I don’t want to know details.” Jo pulled away from the warmth of his body, sitting forward with her elbows on her knees. “How does what happened affect you now? Did you ever get help?”
“I don’t need help.”
She allowed a slow push of breath through her nostrils before looking at him over her shoulder.
“Is this what your nightmares are about? Is this why you don’t sleep?”
Cam dragged his eyes away from hers, fixing them on the empty fireplace, dormant in the summer heat. He nodded.
“For a long time, I thought I had gotten away scot-free.” He swallowed. “A lot of people talk about how after something like this, they can’t have sex or feel conflicted about their sexuality. Fear of sexual contact. I didn’t have any of that. I liked girls and I loved sex.”
“I do recall.” She offered him a wry grin.
“You remember when I was eighteen and I got word that my mom had died in prison?” Cam reached for his glass of Jack, knocking back the last little bit. “I had my first nightmare that night.”
“What do you dream about?” Jo didn’t know why she whispered, but it suddenly felt like they weren’t alone anymore. Like some evil presence lurked and listened in the shadowy corners.
“Him.” Cam’s fingers tightened around the glass until the color ebbed away under his skin. “The things he did to me.”
Cam’s expression was an open wound she couldn’t make herself probe. Even though he had asked for questions, she sensed it was time for her to be quiet.
“It was like…it is like…it’s happening again. It’s so real I smell him. I hear him.” Cam’s fingers dug deep trails in his wild hair. “I feel him like it’s happening again, and I’m just as helpless as I was then.”
“Have you considered talking to anyone about it?” She knew it was one of those questions she already knew the answer to. “I think talking to someone might help.”
Cam’s brows jerked together, and Jo almost wanted to pull the words back between her lips. Except they needed to be said.
“I’ve got this, Jo. It’s under control.”
“Under control?” Jo willed her voice to remain even, though her whole body felt like a hiccup. “We’ve spent every night together this week, and you’re gone every morning when I wake up.”
“I’m an early riser.” Cam stood and walked over to the fireplace, knocking his shoe against the stacked stone. “I like to paint in the morning. All that natural light.”
“You said you wanted questions…well, here’s one for you.” Jo approached the next words like a kamikaze mission. “Is this why you won’t make love to me?”
Cam stroked the poker by the fireplace, and Jo knew if he could run that poker through this conversation and put it out of its misery, he would. His shoulders stiffened and then fell. He faced her, leaning his back against the mantel.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Well, untangle it for me, Cam.” Jo sat cross-legged on the couch, tucking her hands under her thighs.
Cam looked down at his feet, crossed at the ankles.
“I started having the dreams a lot more a few years ago, after Kerris and I got married.” Cam shrugged and shook his head. “Not that it was her fault. That’s just when they started more regularly. Still not every night, just more frequent than they had ever been.”
“And now?” Jo held her breath while she waited to hear about what she only suspected.
He lifted his eyes from the floor, but it was like he peered through blinds, letting out tiny bits of information through the slats.
“Now it’s every night.” Cam sat down on the stone hearth. “And I feel unstable.”
“What do you mean, unstable?”
“It’s like all my emotions are right there at the surface, and I sometimes feel like I’m this spark that could turn into an inferno if I’m not careful.”
He loaded the look he gave her with meaning.
“And I don’t feel very careful when I have sex.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, rubbing the denim covering his thighs. “So I haven’t in a while.”