Page 34 of The Moments You Miss
Flashes of memory keep hitting me since the kidnapping, but they’re still fragmented. I feel seasick, too much information and feelings trying to settle into my brain all at once. Some bits feel a little familiar, and I recall the moments of clarity I had the day before. But the smell of blood, the fear, the pounding of my head are skewing my recent memories. I find myself holding to the edge of the table, as though I really am at sea.
Before yesterday, I had never felt strong— and I might not feel it now, but damn it, I’m going to try.
“It wasn’t just you— it was your dad too, wasn’t it?” My voice is quiet but clear. I don’t bother explaining what I mean, I know he knows. “And you saw me that day? Why didn’t you kill me too?” A million questions sit at the tip of my tongue, but I let them sit on the backburner.
How do I ask him if I was the one who killed my dad?
“How much do you remember, Cherry?” His face serious but contemplative.
“I-I didn’t remember anything from before my parents were killed until yesterday when I– when I killed Simon.” The words are bitter off my tongue, words catching in my throat as I don’t break eye contact with him. “I-I remember my dad– he would take me to this clearing in the woods, where there were cairns or maybe they were tombstones?”
Cameron’s face doesn’t falter, as if he’s not phased by what I’m saying. “He would take me to the garage all the time and I wouldwatch as he would… have people tied up in there. Dad always said he was showing people the right way. I was so young, I didn’t know any better. Oh god, I watched him– h-he was a rapist, wasn’t he? He was, and that’s why you… your dad killed him?”
He’s holding my gaze with the firmness his arms had when carrying me through the door last night. I should feel safe, it’s Cam and he’s telling me the truth,mytruth— but I’ve never been more terrified in my life. The truth is going to fuck me up more than the last couple of days have on their own. Yet, I have to know. There’s no moving forward without the truth.
“Leyla, your dad was a serial rapist, yes; and he killed his victims. Your mom helped him with hiding the bodies, they had a whole system, and they used you as bait.” Cameron’s words hit me like bricks as the air rushes out from my lungs. “My dad is– was a killer back then. He was known as The Whispering Killer. Your parents were my first time going out with him. He trained me my entire life to follow in his footsteps.”
He rubs his hands together as his gaze falters and stares down. I’m holding my breath with anticipation as he takes a deep breath himself, looks up, and continues.
“The people we killed were bad people, that’s why he didn’t kill you that day. When we found out you were in the house still, he made it his personal mission to keep you safe. To keep you out of harm’s way. Then when my dad started getting sick, he would forget things, he got mean— violent and started taking things out on my mom and I—”
Cameron’s eyes brimmed with tears and, even though it felt like the world was falling apart, I was up and I pulled him up with me, wrapping my arms around him to comfort him. Cameron’s faceis full of impassive emotions that I can tell he’s trying to keep to himself, but the pain in his eyes is telling me an entire story, that isn’t the one he’s telling me right now.
“He walked out of the room after killing your mom, he was preparing me to kill your dad. I was going to do it too, I was so fucking afraid that if I didn’t he would hurt me again…” his voice is watery as he closes his eyes taking a deep breath again. “I walked into your parent’s room, and you were standing over him, with one of my dad’s scalpels, and your dad was already dead. I moved so fucking fast getting you out of there because I knew what he would do to you if he saw you there, and I couldn’t let that fucking happen.”
His large arms wrapped around me and kissed the crown of my head. “Because of what you did that day, he laid off of me for months, he didn’t touch me– didn’t hurt me for months after that and I never knew how to thank you for that. I was, and still am, in your debt for that day.”
I place a gentle kiss on his cheek, his is voice still hushed, his eyes distant like he’s not really here with me. “My dad killed my mom one year after your parents’ deaths. I swore that day I would continue on taking out the horrible people in the world, to prevent people like my father from ever walking this earth again. So that no one would ever go through that pain again.”
My arms wrap around him. I just want to surround him with the feeling that he isn’t really alone.
Cameron takes a deep breath, a small spark of life breathe into his cold eyes, almost fully back to me now, just more than there was a moment ago. “My dad was a terrible person. My dad hurt me, and made me feel worthless every fucking day of my life. MichaelCurtis, made my life a living hell, while still giving me a childhood full of lessons that I don’t think I could explain. I felt indebted to a man, who I truly didn’t owe a single thing to. I was… Iama part of the monster, that deserves redemption and the chance to truly make this world better.”
I should hate him. I should be horrified by what he’s done, and what part he played in my life. I don’t, though. Some fucked up part of me loves him even more.
“No more secrets?” My voice whispers, as I wipe a tear that falls down his cheek. I see the uncertainty of what he’s admitted spiraling around him. The fear that I’m going to run.
I’m not.
“No more secrets. I don’t deserve you, Cherry, but I’m keeping you. You’re mine.”
My eyes connect with his, and I feel my chest tightening from the unforeseen whirlwind of stress, unending questions, and just utter shame and disappointment that I’m currently feeling. I have so many damn questions, and I want to know everything about them.
“Tell me about my parents? Because the people you say they are, and the people I remember… aren’t really making sense for me and I just don’t know what to believe right now.” I catch every movement of Cameron’s face as his brows shoot up the way he looks at me sends a rush down my spine, I shiver and shake my head. “Please, Cammy? I don’t think you understand, I don’t know much from my childhood.”
Cameron’s brows are knitted in this constant furrow, I can practically see the gears turning inside his head trying to begin howto explain it all. His blonde hair falling down in front of his face, I gently brush his hair back, the tension radiating off of him.
“How much do you know?” His voice doesn’t even sound like him, the black of his pupils push out the green of his eyes. I watch Cameron descend into this place that I can tell he doesn’t go into often. His shoulders curl in slightly, his dark eyes now connected with mine in an unbreaking stare.
“I remember the cemetery, I remember...” I bite my lower lip in an attempt to remember anything from back then, other than what I’ve already said. “Nothing.”
The disappointment in my voice is palpable, I’ve never been able to have that singular breakthrough moment that all those characters in the books and movies do. Therapists, treatments, none of it ever were able to break through that mental wall that was put up for me. It’s why I need him, and I need him to tell me.
“Your parents killed eight people— three men and five women. Mainly your father, but they would take you out to public places and have you wander around. Knowing the person they were targeting would stop and help you. They would take them to your garage–”
I interrupt Cameron with a soft gasp, as this flash of my dad walking a blonde-haired woman into our backyard garage. I shake my head trying to clear that plaque that keeps growing in my mind.
“I–I… No, Cameron…” My heart is telling me that this can’t be true, that my own father wouldn’t have done something like this.
