Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) (27 page)

I take another sip of my drink. Tears flow freely down my cheeks.

“I never got a look at him, he had a mask on like most of the guests did. He was dressed as the
Phantom of the Opera.
I told the police everything I know. I scratched him when he had his arm across my throat. The detectives said they will run his DNA through the system. Who knows, maybe they’ll get a match.”

Christian walks around the island, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Cami. I was there tonight. This should have never happened.”

My body stiffens, Christian pulls back to look at me. “What?”

“Don’t blame yourself. I told you that earlier in the hospital. I’m not telling you what happened for you to take blame. I’m telling you because I need to talk to someone. You have always been there for me. I can’t tell Morgan this and I sure as hell can’t talk to Jamie. I feel like I am dying inside, Christian. Every time I close my eyes, he is all I can see . . . all I can
feel.
The counselor left her card, but I don’t want to talk to a stranger.”

Pulling me softly against his chest, he kisses my head. “You can talk to me about anything. Anytime, but you know you are going to have to talk to Jamie. You know our bond is solid, but you have something special with Jamie. You always have. You can’t push him away. Not now, not when you need him the most.”

I bury my head against my brother’s chest, and whisper, “I will. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. In time, maybe. Just not now. Promise me, you won’t tell him, Christian. I can’t have him look at me the way he was doing at the hospital, that’ll be what breaks me.”

“I promise,” he murmurs.

“Someone help me! Help me!” I scream. Hoping someone will hear me.

A punch hits the left side of my mouth. Pain immediately floods my face.

“Shut the fuck up. No one can hear you over the music. This can be easy, or it can be rough. It’s your choice.”

“Someone help me! Help me!” I scream until my voice is hoarse.

“Look what you made me do. You were perfect, now you are flawed,” he growls.

I struggle to get free, but he slams me against the wall again. His right forearm is now around my neck, holding the knife along my throat.

I feel my body being pushed. “Camryn, wake up. Camryn you’re safe,” his voice echoes in the silent room. “Wake up. You’re okay.”

I awake with a start and jolt upright in bed, my chest heaving, beads of sweat on my forehead. Trembles rake through my entire body. I look around the room quickly, feeling disoriented. I try to figure out where I am. The lamp on the nightstand is on. Christian is sitting on the side of my bed.

“You were having a nightmare. You’re safe. He won’t ever touch you again.”

“How did you get in here? The door was locked.” I stare at him confused.

“Once I knew you were asleep, I picked the lock.” He points to the floor, where a pile of blankets and a pillow lay. “I slept on the floor. I was gonna leave before you woke up.”

I stare at him wordlessly. I want to be angry that he snuck in my room, but I can’t. He did it to make sure I was okay. To keep an eye on me, always trying to be my protector.

“Christian, when will they stop? When will the nightmares stop?” I plead.

“I don’t know, sis. I wish I did. But I’ll be here to make sure you feel safe enough to sleep.”

Christian stands. He grabs the covers and motions for me to lie down. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right over there. I won’t leave you.”

I lie down, pulling the covers up to my chin. “Thank you.”

JAMIE

THREE DAYS HAVE
passed since Camryn came home from the hospital and I haven’t seen her once. These have been the longest three days of my life. Every attempt to see her has failed, but not for lack of trying.

I’ve sat outside of her room, talking to her through the door. She never responds or acknowledges that I am on the other side, just a few feet from her. Some days I have sat on the floor with my guitar in my lap singing some of her favorite songs. Songs that I think would make her smile when she hears me sing.

I know she comes down at night when everyone goes to bed. Christian told me they meet in the kitchen at night. I told him I want to join them, but he insists that I wait for Camryn to let me in. As much as I hate that she won’t open the door, this isn’t about my feelings or what I want. Camryn has to be the one to initiate this on her own terms. So much of the decisions were ripped from her in that room at Redemption that I know I have to allow her the power to make her own choices from here on out.

Today, just like yesterday and the day before, my back rests against the door with my ass on the carpet, staring at her door.

“Camryn, baby, will you please let me in?” My voice breaks.

Nothing . . . silence. The faint sound of music streams out the crack of the door. Gwen said she hasn’t been downstairs during the day since she got home, but she finds dirty dishes in the sink in the morning. I unleash my frustration to Christian every day about how helpless I feel, and he keeps insisting to give her time. She will come around. My patience is running out. Camryn has never pushed me away. I wonder if things hadn’t evolved between us and we were strictly just friends, would she be ignoring me.

“Baby, can you at least let me know you are okay?”

Nothing.

“Can you at least knock on the door to let me know that you hear me?”

A few minutes pass before there is a faint knock on the door.

I rest my head on the door, so damn thankful that she’s at least on the other side listening.

Another day passes, where she won’t let me in. As much as I want to break down the door, I have to respect her wishes. She was raped. She was violated. I can’t force my way in as much as I want. I have to let Camryn be in control of this situation, as much as it is killing me.

I lean against the wall and slide down it until my ass hits the floor. Reaching over, I grab my guitar, and place it firmly in my lap. I guess it’s another day of me singing to her from the hallway.

I strum the chords to one of her favorite songs from Boyce Avenue,
Every Breath.
She loves the acoustic version I play for her. The door rattles behind my back. A small smile appears on my face knowing that she is listening on the other side.

As I continue to play, each word that leaves my mouth is filled with despair, anguish, and defeat.

When the song ends, Camryn’s cries ring from the other side of the door. Her tears shatter the last shreds of my control. A stab of guilt lays buried within my heart. I failed her. I should have been there to protect her. Tears slide down my face, but I quickly brush them away. She can’t know that I am dying inside along with her.

“Don’t give up on me, Jamie, please.” A faint whisper embraces me.

“Never . . . I won’t ever give up on you, I promise. I’ll be right here, waiting until you’re ready to let me back in.” A hot tear rolls down my face. I pray that I sense a crack in her fragile control and she lets me in to take care of her soon.

It’s now been eight days since Camryn’s attack. Every day I go to see her and every day she refuses to answer her bedroom door. I knock lightly at first letting her know it’s me. When she ignores me, I knock harder. She still ignores me. Her ignoring drives me insane. I knock again on the door. Still no answer.

Sliding down the wall, I pull my knees up to my chest, and wrap my arms around them. I lay my head down on my knees. “Camryn, open up. It’s me.” She doesn’t answer, not that I am surprised. I lay my head back, resting it against the wall. The events of the last week begin to run through my mind.

The source of most of our interaction comes in the digital form. I text Cami several times a day. Some go unanswered but most of them she replies. Although, usually short. My patience has run its course. I know she doesn’t want everyone looking at her with pity in their eyes. But it’s me . . . Jamie, her best friend, her boyfriend. A man who loves her unconditionally. I’m the guy who will never leave her side, no matter how much she pushes me away. I would never look at Cami with anything other than love in my eyes.

Last night Christian and I went to Aces after working at the studio all day. He told me that I should give her space, but how much space am I expected to give her? He’s assured me she’ll come around. This is more than Camryn being her usual stubborn self. My girl is shutting the world out. She is retreating, pushing everyone away.

Lincoln isn’t handling things well either. He blames himself for what happened at his club. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. Looks like he hasn’t shaved in days.

Camryn’s attack has affected all of us in one way or another. Somehow we all blame ourselves.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I get to my feet and retreat to the kitchen where my mom and Gwen are sitting at the island. “She won’t answer?” my mom questions.

Shaking my head, I pull the stool out. With my elbows on the counter, I lower my head into my hands. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I am supposed to do to help her.” I look over at Gwen. “Can you help me out here?”

“You keep doing what you’re doing. She will come around. She let me in the room to take drinks and food up to her, but she hasn’t spoken to me since the hospital. Christian said she talked to him the night she came home from the hospital. She hasn’t spoken much since. All I know is that what happened to her is bad, Jamie. It’s really bad. She hasn’t opened up to me.”

“The girls have been calling and texting her, but she hasn’t allowed them to visit. Morgan has stopped by but Camryn refuses to unlock the bedroom door. Cami told her in a text that she doesn’t want all the sorrowful looks.”

“I’ve been here every day. I don’t know how much longer I can take her ignoring me. I do what I need to do at the studio with Christian so I can head over here, hoping she will open the door. The band is being supportive of me missing practice. I don’t know how much longer I can last before I knock the door down.”

Gwen comes over to my side, and places her hand on my shoulder. “I know my daughter needs time. She will talk when she is ready. We are all being patient with her and giving her the space she needs. You, on the other hand, have never been one to sit back and be patient. Especially when it comes to her. Things are different with you, Jamie, they always have been.” She raises her eyebrows at me, and places a kiss on my temple.