Page 15 of Cam
I’d never seen him like this. Angry, belligerent, yes. But physically aggressive was new.
“Look what you did, knocking your mother to the ground!” Dad came at me, irate. Eyes wild, spittle flying. I had no idea how much he’d had to drink before I came home. Usually, I was back earlier, but he’d had more alcohol and not enough food to sop it up.
I flinched, but Cam grabbed a hold of Dad’s arm, spun him around and pressed him up against the wall, his forearm across his shoulders. Cam was right inDad’s face. Growled. “You want a fight? You take on someone your own size.”
Dad’s eyes widened, catching on that he couldn’t be a bully to everyone.
Cam let him go, hands up and Dad stumbled and dropped like a heap to the floor.
Cam came over to me, took my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. His hold was gentle considering he looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.
His gaze swept over the chaos of this room, too. His nose twitched. Yeah, the trash was pretty bad.
“Don’t you… don’t walk away from me!” It sounded like Dad was trying to get to his feet, but a thump as if he’d hit the wall meant he was having a hard time.
Cam set his hands on my shoulders, breathing hard. “He always like this?”
“Pretty much,” I admitted. “He’s not a happy drunk. But he loves that photo of the two of them. She died when I was six.”
It was the one that showed Mom with her red hair and green eyes just like mine. Looking at me was a daily reminder to my dad of what we lost.
His jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. As if he wanted to take my dad out back and shoot him. “Yeah, well the way he’s treating you, he might just kill you. No way in hell are you staying here.”
I blinked at him. His hands were so warm, so big where they touched me. Even through my sweatshirt. “What?”
His look was as angry as it had been back at the stable at work, except this time I knew it wasn’t aimed at me. He was angryforme. “You’re coming with me.”
Going? With Cam?
“But–”
“Red, you’re not safe here. He’s a drunk and not a fucking nice one. I promise you’re safe with me. I’dneverhurt you.”
Physically? I believed him. His words earlier…get out of my sight, hurt worse than any blow or push. Except, I’d rather go with a guy who hated me that was sober instead of being stuck in the house with a mean drunk, even if he was my father.
I nodded.
Dad stormed into the kitchen on wobbly legs, but Cam took my hand again and he pretty much used his shoulder to knock Dad out of the way and lead me out the still-open front door.
I was following Cam Wilder down the cracked and uneven walkway to the street in my bare feet and sweats. I had no idea where he was taking me, but right now, I didn’t care.
8
CAM
What the actual fuck?That was what I thought on the drive from Taylor’s house to mine. She was quiet. I couldn’t resist peeking at her out of the corner of my eye about every thirty seconds. She stared out the passenger window, her fingers tucked into the long sleeves of her sweatshirt.
A sweatshirt that didn’t hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
In the cab of my truck, her sweet, fruity scent was potent. Her hair was damp, as if she’d just showered, and I wondered if it was her shampoo.
That shit in her house had been fucked up. Herdad… Jesus. My blood was simmering with the need to go back and beat the shit out of the guy. Point out what a father’s job really was. End him for even hurting my little red for even one second.
But that wasn’t what Taylor needed right now. I had to be what she needed and I’d prove it by words and actions. I’d build her trust in a way that was real. That was honest.
“He ever hurt you?” I asked finally. I had to unclench my jaw to get the words out. Because if she said yes, then I was turning around and giving him a world of hurt. I didn’t give a shit that my brother was the sheriff.
She jumped at my question and then a sigh escaped.
