Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) (26 page)

“Hi, beautiful.”

“Don’t let all the machines scare you. They’re monitoring me because I was on the verge of a panic attack. I’m hoping they’ll discharge me once my results from the CAT scan are back.”

As gut wrenching as this is, I can’t bring myself to look away. God, I hope my imagination of what happened in that room is far worse than the reality Cami has to live with. Tension envelops the room. Cami’s knuckles whiten from her fists clenching the sheet. “Don’t look at me like that, Jamie,” she whispers in a small frightened voice. Tears falling down her cheeks.

My heart thuds rapidly in my chest. “How am I looking at you? You have no idea how scared I was. I was freaking out in the waiting room . . . your brother had to calm me down before I put my fist through the vending machine. This is my fault. If I was paying attention to you girls on the dance floor, I would have seen you and Lindsey wander off. Instead, Christian and I were too busy talking to Tabitha.”

I stand from the chair to sit on the side of the bed next to her. I slowly lean down and gently kiss her forehead. “Don’t you get it? This is my fault, Cami!” I say harshly, averting my gaze from her. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry this happened to you, baby . . .”

Camryn holds up her hand stopping me mid-sentence. “I can’t do this, Jamie. If you’re going to act like that, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told my brother . . . go home. Leave. I don’t want everyone blaming themselves and I sure as hell don’t want everyone looking at me with pity in their eyes. I don’t want that.” Her jaw tenses as she looks up and stares at the ceiling.

Her expression clouds with anger. “I know what I look like. I got a good look at myself in the mirror when I went to the bathroom. I felt every punch he landed on me. Every time my head or body was slammed into the wall, I know what it felt like. I don’t want to have to think about it over and over each time someone new takes in all the injuries on my face for the first time. I just had to relive it with the two detectives. Go back to the waiting room and tell whoever is out there that I don’t want any visitors. Not tonight, not for a little while, not until I heal.”

Nodding my head, understanding where she is coming from. “Everyone left when your brother came back to the waiting room. Your parents and Karsen are the only ones left.”

“You can go to if you want,” she says her voice sounding detached. “I don’t know how long they plan on keeping me here.”

I gawk at her, she can’t be serious. “I’m not going anywhere, Camryn. Do you hear me?” My voice carries with a unique force. “When I said you were mine, I meant it.” If she thinks she is going to push me away, I’ll push back harder.

She clenches my hand in hers and her knuckles turn white. “You can’t mean that after what happened to me tonight, Jamie. Every time you look at me all I see is the pity in your eyes and I don’t want that.” Her voice breaks. “You’ll never be able to look at me the same way.”

Neither one of us says another word. I run my thumb slowly over her hand in soothing motions, letting her know I am here. The motion eventually lulls Camryn asleep.

I’m channeling all my emotions until I’m alone. Seeing her so damn broken and helpless is killing me. Leaning over towards the bed, I fight back the tears and whisper softly, “I have loved you all my life. I wish I could take your pain away.” My voice cracks. “I wish I could rewind tonight, so this never happened to you. I am so sorry, baby. We’ll get through this together. I promise, Cami . . . together.”

There is a soft knock on the door. Lifting my head from the bed, her parents enter the room. “How is she holding up?” Mark asks.

“I think the pain meds kicked in. She fell asleep a little bit ago. We’re waiting for the doctor to come in with the result of her scan so she can be released.”

There is another knock on the door and Cami’s treating physician enters. Rubbing my hand over Camryn’s, I murmur, “Cami, wake up. Dr. Crosby is here.”

Camryn doesn’t even stir, so I place my hand on her arm, and nudge her a little harder. “Baby, wake up.” She gasps and her eyes widen in terror. Her eyes flicker around the room at lightning speed.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe.” My heart rate kicks up a notch knowing she’s not going to feel safe anymore and she shouldn’t have to feel like that.

“Safe . . . I’ll never be safe again,” she says as she can’t control the spasmodic trembles within her.

She takes a few deep breaths. “Can I go, please?” She looks right at Dr. Crosby. “I just want to go home.”

My heart just shatters in a million pieces all over the floor. I’ve never in my life heard or seen Camryn act like this, ever.

“Yes, we are discharging you. You do have two fractured ribs though so you must take it easy for the next few days. The nurses are preparing your discharge papers now. They will give you the scripts for your medications.” She pats Camryn on the knee. “I wish you the best.”

CAMRYN

AFTER HOURS OF
being at the hospital, I’m finally discharged. My parents take me back to their house. Jamie and I are in the back seat of my father’s car, my hand held tightly in his.

My father doesn’t even have his keys out of the door, and I push my way past him. I head to my old bedroom, immediately walk into the bathroom and lock the door. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just need to get the smell of him off of me. I wish everyone would just leave me alone.

The hot steam clouds the mirror while I strip the scrubs that Karsen gave me from my body. Pulling my shirt over my head takes some effort because my ribs are killing me. A shudder runs through me when I catch glimpses of the bruises and marks on my body.

If I didn’t wear that slutty cop outfit, he probably wouldn’t have noticed me. Time and time again, Jamie has told me not to venture off on my own at clubs and parties. That girls should never go places alone, that we should always buddy up. If I would have listened to him, this may not have happened. I grab the toothbrush holder and throw it against the wall, watching as it shatters into pieces. That’s exactly how I feel . . . shattered.

The water scalds my body when I step into the shower. I wince as the drops hit my sore skin. His scent permeates around me, so I scrub and scrub to rid him off me. The memory of his hands touching me, his breath against my neck, and the smell of his breath won’t go away. My stomach churns as the bile rises in my throat. I throw the sponge against the wall and give up the fight. My back slides down the wall as tears cascade down my cheeks.

I seethe with anger and humiliation. Why did this happen to me? I should have fought harder. I try to force the images out of my head, but it takes more effort than I can handle. My body trembles uncontrollably. I rock back and forth on the floor of the shower, as I try to regain control of my breathing. I’m fearful I won’t get through this. Will I be able to recover from this?

Once my panic attack subsides, I manage to get up off the floor of the shower by holding my ribcage. I squirt some shampoo in my palms, and massage it into my scalp, trying not to get my incision wet. After carefully rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, I cover my face with shaky hands and give vent to the agony of what I went through last night.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back, letting the water stream down by body. My chest tightens as I can feel him touching me. Forcing himself into me. Panic riots within me again. Tears begin to fall down my face. I cry for what he did to me. For what I am left to deal with. I feel like who I was when I went to the party no longer exists. A million different thoughts run through my mind while I shower that I don’t even realize that the water is now cold.

Once I dry off and dress slowly, I crawl into bed. Voices from people downstairs float up through the vents. Unable to bear the pitiful eyes they all wear, I pull the comforter up around my neck, and bury myself from everyone.

The light from my clock glows midnight. How can I have slept an entire day away? Stretching my arms above my head as much as I can without inflicting pain on myself, I toss the covers back. I can’t believe I slept as long as I did. The last time I looked at the clock it was three-thirty this afternoon. I maneuver my legs over the side of the bed, and wait a few seconds before standing. If I thought my body was sore earlier, I was dead wrong compared to how it feels now.

Quietly, I pry open my bedroom door to complete darkness. I tiptoe down the stairs in search of one thing . . . my parents’ liquor cabinet. Rummaging for something strong, I grab the bottle of Belvedere vodka and make my way to the kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator door, I search for cranberry juice. I slide the stool out gently to sit down, and place the bottle of vodka on the countertop. Without thinking, I pour it and swallow the vodka cranberry concoction in one gulp. I pour and down another one without coming up for air. As the liquid makes it way down my throat, I turn numb as ice. Thank goodness, there’s a way to erase the pain.

The lights in the kitchen illuminate. My head flips to the doorway where I find Christian leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “Care for some company?” he asks.

Wanting to be alone, I don’t answer him and return my attention to my empty glass. He pushes himself off of the wall, and stands next to me. “Let me rephrase that. Pour me a drink.”

“Grab a glass.” Christian walks over to the liquor cabinet, returning with a glass for himself. I make him a vodka and cranberry along with another for myself. He doesn’t take a sip, just stands there holding it in his hand.

“I’m not going to ask you to talk about what happened. Just know that I am always here for you. When you hurt, Cami, I hurt. I love you, sis.” He leans over, placing a soft kiss on my head by my bandage. “When you’re ready, come find me, please.”

Nodding my head, I acknowledge what he said, then I whisper, “I love you, too.” The two of us sit there in silence, both sipping our drinks.

Christian’s always been a good listener. He never judges, he only offers his opinion when asked. I see the pain in his eyes. I know I’m going to have to talk to him eventually. I figure I might as well start now. Looking at Christian, I open up and tell him what that monster did to me.

“I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy. I’ll save you the gory details. All I will say is that when he was touching me, I prayed that he would just kill me. I didn’t want to live knowing what he was doing to me.” Looking down at my hands trembling around my glass, I remove them from the glass, wiping them against my yoga pants.

“You don’t have to do this, Cami.” Christian mutters.

Shaking my head, no, I continue. “I saw him at the bar when I was talking to Lincoln. He was watching me.”

I see the sadness in his eyes. “I fought back, Christian, I swear I did. I struggled against him. The more I fought, the more he became enraged.” I suddenly feel weak and vulnerable. Why wasn’t I strong enough to fight him off? I wipe the tears away with my sleeve.

“He slammed my head against the wall. Any opportunity I thought I could get away, I tried to hit him. Even when he had the knife against my neck. I kicked him. I clawed at his arm when he was crushing my throat, that’s when he cut my neck.” I didn’t care whether he hurt me or not at that point, I just wanted to die.