Defamed: Book Three (bxb) ✔️

Chapter Ten: Talk

Asher Adair

Rain was peaceful. It crumbled this cruel existence into a small box and shoved it away for a little while. At least, that was what usually happened when I stared out the window as it rained. This morning, however, that wasn't the case. I couldn't string together a proper thought. I couldn't get my mind to stop racing long enough to make an attempt to enjoy the cloudy sky.

Every interaction I'd had with Cameron since that day eight years ago was playing on repeat in my head. It wouldn't stop. I wasn't allowed breaks. Cameron told me not to blame myself. My friends, too. But it wasn't that easy. The look in his eyes haunted my being. I keep telling myself that I should have seen it. Because every time since he'd gotten here that we tried to talk about the past, he would get angry. Cameron's default setting seemed to be angry. And who could blame him?

Ace continuously said he was tired of the world hurting Cade.

And the world had hurt Cameron, too.

Over and over.

"Are we staring longingly into the abyss this morning?"

"The abyss is staring back."

"Dark." Cameron yawned as he opened a cabinet behind me, taking out what I assumed to be a mug and setting it on the counter. "Don't get too lost in the abyss. Been there. Still kind of there. It doesn't end pretty. Clearly."

I remembered exactly what he was referring to. I shouldn't have turned my head that day. But I did. There was a crack in the door, and at my angle, I could see him lying there. He wasn't conscious. There was blood...everywhere. His pale face. I thought he was dead. I truly thought he was. Then he came back--he challenged me in ways that screamed for me to see his truth. I knew that now. His anger was a challenge for everyone to see he was going through something.

I never took it seriously enough.

Luckily his brothers did.

"Out. Of. Your. Head." Cameron broke me from my thoughts. "Come sit down. You asked for us to talk, so we're going to do that. If you can't handle something we're talking about, just tell me. We can--"

I turned around, meeting his tired gaze. "If I can't handle something? I didn't go through this. You did. This isn't about me."

Cameron leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee before answering me. "Oh, but it is about you. It's about both of us. You didn't have to go through it to feel the effects. My brothers aren't doing so great, either. I called them this morning, but I told them we'd talk when they could get back home." He shrugged. "I'm still going through it, but as several people like to tell me--I've spent eight years going through it. Dealing with it. This is fresh for you. Fresh for everyone. I didn't talk about it."

Crossing my arms, I tried to maintain my composure. I knew it wouldn't last. "Did you feel like you could?"

"Mmm," He swished around his coffee as he stared off into the distance from the window behind me. "Back then? No. Lately, yes. But I spent two years with police and detectives trying to catch him. I exhausted every resource I had." He lifted his mug with a smirk. "Thanks for the free coffee."

"You went broke."

He shrugged. "Money never really mattered to me, but you knew that. I moved around a lot because I lived in constant fear."

"That he would find you?"

"Yeah." He set his cup down. "He wasn't only charged with my assault. He blackmailed me for eight years."

I simply wasn't strong enough for this conversation, but I knew it needed to be had. I hated it. I hated everything about this situation. I didn't know where to start. I didn't know how I was going to listen to him speak about something that should have never happened to him. I didn't know what I was going to do. My head was chaos, and I was drowning in it.