Page 96 of Most Valuable Player
In his hectic life throughout which a step out of line was met with reprimanding from his parents, isn’t it natural he wanted to latch on to something he could control? Maybe he felt butterflies when I smiled, and this, combined with his desperation to have something to call his own, drove him to acquire me.
Maybe he didn’t even realize it.
I shouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, especially when there were so many intentional moments of manipulation. The night he got me blackout drunk. The way he cried after he hit me, and then his tears would vanish after I apologized for overreacting. The jealous accusations when I told him I was going to a school event, which were relentless until I canceled and stayed home, away from my peers.
Yet there were many soft, loving moments, too. When he’d bring me somewhere I was desperate to explore or fall asleep draped around me while we watched movies or call me every night to let me rant about my parents or to make sure I’d eaten.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing excuses what he did. He opened wounds in my heart with his hands and shattered pieces of my soul with his words. Whether each instance was accidental or intentional makes no difference. The fact is that I shouldn’t be required to heal, over and over, or cover my chest to prevent the possibilities of further injuries.
I’m not sure I’ll ever stop shielding myself. I’ve allowed Cameronpeeks, but I can’t say I’ll ever allow him to fully hold my heart like I allowed Liam. Time will tell if I can manage to find all the shards that crumbled away each time Liam struck my self-worth. My fervency for life. My face.
“It’s over, Liam,” I say, shoulders slumping under the weight of my own words. “Don’t come to my house, or text me, or go to my parents, or show up at my school. I won’t talk to you.”
Liam sits there on the ground like he’s been frozen in time. The tears rush down his face, but his expression is stoic, his hands still latched to his head. Even after everything, this is the best he can offer me.
The chance to leave.
So I do. I draw Cameron toward the banquet door and pull the handle in.
“I love you,” Liam whispers.
My stride pauses in the doorway. “Your love isn’t love,” I murmur. “Hopefully you’ll realize that before you charm someone else looking for an escape.”
I tug Cameron into the building and let the door close, cutting Liam away. Permanently.
Before promptly collapsing against the carpeted hallway, gasping for air.
Cameron doesn’t speak. Just kneels and scoops me into a hug, tucking my head beneath his chin. I’m not crying. I’m too exhausted and I’ve shed too many tears over Liam. My legs are so weak I can barely get them under me, but I manage to, with Cameron’s support.
“Let’s go home, okay?” he says.
I look at him through the blur of fatigue, then gently stroke some of the dried blood from his chin. I don’t care that my phone isn’t on me or that I haven’t spoken to my parents as he draws me to the front doors.
“That painting,” he says. “What do you think?”
He’s pointing at one of the gold-framed pictures he noticed me slowing down for when we first entered the building. “It’s pretty,” I mumble, examining the flecks of gold atop splotches of black. “Not a big fan of abstract, but the colors work together nicely.”
“Eh.” Cameron shrugs, ushering me past it. “Your stuff is better.”
My eyes sear hotter. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“It’s the truth.”
“Not just for that.”
Cameron’s brows shift up, as does the edge of his mouth. He taps the back of my hand with his index finger, then guides me away from this mess.
Just like that, it’s over.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cameron
It’s called a Domestic Relationship Personal Protection Order, apparently. Or an ex parte PPO. It’s like an emergency restraining order that prohibits someone from approaching you without the consequence of being arrested. To everyone’s astonishment, Mr.Gray steps up on Mason’s behalf to file it, since Mason’s still a minor. My parents help us fill the petition out for the judge and organize for Liam to be served the order. Liam hasn’t filed a motion to terminate it.
Maybe he’ll let it be.
Though, there’s still no physical barrier preventing Liam from going where he wants. But after seeing my scraped chin and bloodied hands, Mr.Gray changes the locks on the doors and makes new keys, so Liam’s is null if he decides to storm Mason’s house. I can still feel tension in Mason’s hand when we’re out at parties or on dates, and his eyes constantly rove whatever building we’re in or backyard we’re occupying.
