Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) (33 page)

“And, one more thing. Please text me when you get there to let me know you made it okay.” I can hear the concern in his voice.

“I can handle that.” Smiling I add, “You do realize that eventually my life needs to get back to normal.”

“Yes, I know. I just need to know you are safe, that’s all. Have fun with Morgan. I’ll see you when I get home after rehearsal around seven. We have a show this week, so Parker wants to go over some things.”

“Sounds like a plan. I shall have dinner prepared and waiting.”

I walk through the doors at Starbucks, and I spot Morgan at the table by the window. I make my way over, and nudge the table with my hip. “Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”

“Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting five minutes,” she says with a fake pout.

“You said ten-thirty, it is ten-thirty. I am right on time, my friend.”

She points to the two cups in front of her. “I got your usual. I hope it’s still hot.”

I pull the chair out taking the seat across from her. She looks like shit. Not that I’d tell her that, but her usual chipper self is not shining through. I relax against the back of my chair, really studying her face. Her eyes are puffy with black circles lining them. Morgan always has her A-game on. She never steps out of the house without looking flawless. She could rock a trash bag with a bedazzled belt and still put some people to shame. Something is off.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Spit it out, Cami.” Her eyes narrowing.

Fidgeting in my seat, I’m not quite sure how to go about this. Do I just spit it out? Do I ask her what is going on? Ugh . . . she is my best friend. I should be able to say exactly what is on my mind. I know she wouldn’t have a problem telling me. I decide to just rip the band-aid off. Since the attack, we haven’t talked much. There’s been some distance between us. Another thing that asshole took from me.

“You look like shit.”

She scoffs at my statement. “Real nice, Cami. I ask you to come have coffee with me and you tell me I look like shit.” She averts my gaze, then picks her latte up, taking a long sip then placing her cup back on the table. She raises her eyes to find me watching her.

Raising my brows at her. “Really. You are going to get defensive with me? Spit it out.”

She lets out a loud exaggerated sigh. “I haven’t been feeling well lately. I forget what it feels like to sleep, since it’s evaded me for some time now.”

Her hands are on the table. She avoids looking at me as she picks at the loose piece of skin on her thumb. “Morgan. What’s going on? This isn’t like you.”

When she looks up at me, there are tears in her eyes. I immediately grab for her hands, clasping them with mine. “I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you a while ago, but I didn’t know how to.” Her voice breaks.

I stare at my friend sitting across from me. I have never seen her look so distraught. We have always been able to tell each other anything. We may not like what we have to say, but we respect each other’s opinions. In all the years that we have been friends, I can’t remember a time where we had a disagreement.

“Morgan, what is it?” Her silence scares me.

Tears stream down her face, like a dam has broken. She pulls her hands away from mine to quickly wipe them away. I hand her a napkin and she crumples the paper in her fist. “The night you were attacked, Camryn, it was my fault. I was the last person in the storage room. Lincoln checked the surveillance cameras. It was me.”

I gasp and my eyes widen. Her words repeat silently in my head. A sharp jagged pain erupts in my chest. I want to make sure I heard her correctly. I want to be angry for the carelessness, but I can’t. Seeing Morgan’s tear-filled eyes, I have to accept it was a mistake. She’s beating herself up more than I ever could. It was a mistake. It wasn’t done on purpose. I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “Listen to me. It is not your fault.”

She tries to slide her hand free, but I tighten my hold. “Yes, it is. The security footage showed me leaving the room, and the guy waiting in the hallway. When the door went to shut, he stuck his foot in the doorway to stop it. We saw him bend down and put something in the door to keep it open.” She swallows hard. Tears glisten in her eyes.

“That’s when we saw him taking you in the room.”

My breath quickens from her revealing what she saw. This is not Morgan’s fault. It’s not my brother’s fault. It’s not Jamie’s. And, it’s not Lincoln’s. But they all blame themselves. There’s only one person to blame—the bastard who raped me.

“Listen to me. I do not blame you. You were not the one who brutally attacked me. This is not your fault, Morgan. Shit happens, it was an honest mistake that you didn’t stop to check if the door clicked shut.”

She wipes her face with her free hand. Her gaunt face and swollen eyes tells me this information has been eating her alive. The guilt is tearing her apart. “Cami, how can you say that? If I would have taken a second to make sure, this would have never happened.”

“Look at me. I have replayed the events of that night over and over in my head. There are a million things that could have been done differently. Maybe in the end, it could have changed things. We will never know. But the one thing I do know is, this is not your fault. Not to mention the bastard would have found another place if not the storage room.”

Morgan sobs across from me. I get up from my seat to sit in the chair next to her. I pull her into my arms. “I love you, Morgan. I know it took a lot of courage for you to tell me that you were the last person in the storage room. Look at me. I’m doing okay. He didn’t ruin me. It might still haunt me, but I’m surviving and moving on. I can’t imagine the guilt that you have been carrying.” I rub my hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her.

Morgan throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

“Okay, on a lighter note, I have something to tell you.”

Morgan draws back to look at my face. “Have you slept with Jamie?”

Chuckling at her assumption, “I assure you, I have not slept with Jamie. When I do, you will be the first to know.”

She wipes tears from her face and takes a sip of her latte. “Shelby offered me a position here in the New York office. It is a promotion, actually.”

Morgan claps her hands together. “Oh. My. God. You are coming home to stay?”

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t given her my decision yet. I have until the middle of January to tell her. I need to weigh the pros and cons.”

Morgan and I talk about the details of my promotion. In the grand scheme of things, there really aren’t any cons except my friends in LA. She asks what Jamie’s thoughts are on this. When I inform her that I haven’t told Jamie yet, she scowls at me.

“Why are you scowling at me?”

“How long have you known this little tidbit of info? Why haven’t you told Jamie?”

“Slow down there, killer. You are the first person I told. I pretty much know the decision I am going to make. I needed to do what was best for me, what is best for my career. I know Jamie will support my decision no matter what it is, but I needed to be the one who made it. I didn’t want any outside persuasion.”

Morgan squirms in her seat with excitement. “You know you want to stay here for Jamie. I know you love your job, but you love that man fiercely. You always have,” she says with a devilish grin on her face.

I can only sit here and laugh at her reaction to my news. “Yes, I do love him fiercely. I can no longer deny it. Now if I manage to tell him that before you do that would be a great start.”

The two of us sit there for a while catching up on things that have happened over the past couple of weeks. Even though the two of us were texting while I hid away in my room, she had a lot of things to fill me in on. One being that Lincoln was tossing around the idea of selling Redemption. I make a mental note to have a sit down with him, as well. I won’t allow him to sell his club because he feels guilty for what happened to me.

“Hello, ladies,” a male voice says behind us. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand. A wave of apprehension sweeps through me. My stomach clenches. My pulse begins to beat erratically from the sound of his voice.

I don’t need to turn to see who it is, it’s Chad. He has an eerie grin on his face. Morgan kicks my foot under the table. I look over to her, her brows are raised almost to her hairline. I try to hold my raw emotions in check, but it’s a damn struggle. I don’t know what is wrong with me. One minute I was fine with Morgan, and now that Chad and his bandmate, Buffer, are standing by our table, I am a complete mess. Trying to reign in my emotions, I squeeze Morgan’s hand for support. She gives me a look, asking if I am okay without actually asking. I shake my head back and forth, subtly, so only she can see.

Morgan speaks up taking the attention off of me. “Hi, Chad. What brings you and your friend to these neck of the woods?”

He nods his head at me, but focuses his attention on Morgan. “The band has a few more sessions set up with Christian. We need to fine tune a few things before the album is finished. Buffer and I were in the neighborhood, figured we’d stop for a cup of coffee.”

Chad turns toward me. “Camryn, what’s wrong? You can’t say hello?” The sound of his voice makes me cringe. I am suddenly trying my damnedest to keep my coffee down before it comes back up my throat and makes an appearance here on the table. I raise my eyes and find Buffer watching me.

“Um . . . Um . . . Hi,” I say quietly, trying to avoid eye contact with him. Something feels off. Very off.

Morgan gets up, her chair making a loud noise as it scrapes along the floor. She nudges my shoulder, “We were just leaving,” she says.

I reach for my handbag from the chair across from us, then stand to my feet. Buffer steps to the side giving me room to move. Chad, on the other hand, is so close to me. I inch myself back from him. He is invading my personal space. “I’ve asked about you a few times. Hasn’t your brother or that friend of yours told you?” he asks. When he said that friend of yours, his jaw clenched. As if speaking of Jamie infuriates him.

“Camryn, why don’t you meet up with us to have drinks? You’ll have a good time. I promise,” Buffer says then winks at me.

I shake my head no without answering either one of them. Chad frowns, “I didn’t think your friend would tell you, but I thought your brother would have.”

Buffer doesn’t say anything else. He simply stands there staring me up and down as if I was something he wanted to eat. Like I was his last meal on the way to the death chamber. It’s as if he is eye fucking me in the middle of the coffee shop. A devilish smirk appears on his face as he raises his brows at me. For someone who doesn’t usually have a whole lot to say, his unspoken words and actions, speak volumes.

Finding my voice I say, “That
friend
is my boyfriend. There was no need for him to tell me you said hi, since you seem to ask about me whenever you are in the studio with them. They probably figured we would run into each other at some point while you were there.” Why is he so concerned about my relationship with Jamie? “As for meeting up for drinks, I’m sorry, that’s out of the question.” I eye Buffer letting him know that his invitation has been declined.

Chad eyes me suspiciously. A cold knot forms in my stomach. I feel like my chest is about to burst. “Then I guess me asking you out on a date is out of the question since you have a boyfriend?” he says with a devilish grin.

I look him straight in the eye. “Yes, I have a boyfriend. The only dates I will be going on are with him.” Why is he pushing the issue about me going out with him? It’s not gonna happen so back the hell off, dude.

Chad leans in to hug me but I step out of his way, moving closer to Morgan. Chad’s jaw clenches, his eyes slightly narrow when I move away. I don’t want him to touch me. My nerves tense immediately when it hits me. The scent of his cologne. Oh, my God. I’m gonna be sick.

Bile rises in my throat. I clamp my hand over my mouth and make a beeline to the restroom. I make it to the toilet just in time before I throw up the entire contents of my stomach. I throw up a few more time before there is a knock on the door.

“Cami, it’s me. Are you alright?” Morgan asks from the other side of the door.

I reach for the toilet paper so I can wipe my mouth. When I open the door, the look on Morgan’s face almost knocks me over. I walk over to the sink, so I can splash my face with cold water.

“What the hell was that about out there? You look like you saw a ghost?”

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, my face is pale, but I have red blotches on my chest and up my neck.

I turn to see Morgan’s concern. “If I tell you something, you have to promise that you won’t think I am crazy.”

She nods her head. “Of course. I would never think that.”

Clearing my throat, I try to make sense of what I am feeling. “When he walked up behind us, just hearing his voice gave me chills. I was barely hanging on by a thread. Then when he leaned in to hug me, I lost it. He smelled like the man who raped me, Morgan. That night. The man was wearing the same cologne that Jamie wears. That is why I thought it was Jamie behind me. Then when Chad leaned toward me, that was all I could smell.”