Wicked in Love

Chapter 2 - forget

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Cameron

Considering how I was before with women, turning down an invitation from an attractive redhead when I badly needed a distraction tonight was pretty pathetic.

And especially, I mused as I got on my motorcycle, put my helmet on, when I was trying to push away the desperate need to see the woman who would rather gouge my eyes out than be in the same vicinity as me—and had every right to.

She was close to me now, just a few minutes away.

Don't you fucking dare.

I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw. I looked back at the club, wondered for a second whether I should go back and find Caleb, and just as soon realized I'd rather clip my toenails in hell than go back inside.

I checked my watch, noted how late it was. Rick wasn't home when I dropped by for an impromptu visit earlier, but I doubt he'd be jumping for joy if I kick him out of bed for a visit now.

Itchy and restless, I made a fist, lifted my hand to bite my knuckle. It took a second for me to realize I had my helmet on.

Shit.

I should just go back to my place, call it a night. I only went in the garage to park my truck earlier, get my motorcycle out, but I didn't go in.

There were a lot of things at my place I didn't want to remember. A lot of things that weren't there anymore.

That weren't in my life anymore.

Whose fault was that?

I looked up to the dark sky. And she was all I could see.

Don't do it.

I closed my eyes, silently counted to three, and took a long, deep breath.

Fuck it.

I'm in hell anyway. I might as well burn in it.

A traffic light beside a milkshake bar, street names I'd memorized by heart, houses with white porches and columns and poplar and pine trees out front.

It felt strangely welcoming as I weaved my motorcycle through the streets that I'd driven on many, many times before. I knew where they would lead me.

My breathing picked up, heart pounding like a jackhammer. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be near her.

Welcome home, Cameron.

A very heavy lie. As familiar things could be. They made you believe they still belong to you, and you to them. And that maybe things were the same as before. Because somehow everything looked the same.

And maybe everything could still be.

What if...

I was sinking again. And like always, there was nothing to hold on to. I should have just gritted my teeth and endured it like I always did, but there was something in the air. A powerful demand that clawed at my skin, pushing me to a place where I shouldn't be.

Sink or swim?

She was closer than she'd ever been to me now. It had been a long time. Too long.

Sink or swim?

Sometimes I chose to sink.

The white two-story house with its thick columns on the front porch and the trees surrounding it looked the same. As though time had ended, like the last fading scene of a movie, when I... left her there.