TROUBLE | JJ Maybank

016. On Thin Ice

AS SHOUPE PARKED the car, Amelia's stomach twisted her heart in her throat.

"Home sweet home", Amelia muttered flatly.

She took a deep breath, her fingers lingering over the door handle, hesitant. She wasn't ready to be back, overwhelmed by her father's expectations and her responsibilities. But she didn't have a choice, after all, she was a Cameron.

Amelia hesitantly stepped out of the car, staring at the house that loomed ahead as she closed the door.

"Ready?" Shoupe asked, offering a quick and comforting smile.

"Mhm," Amelia muttered, though she didn't feel ready.

They walked up the stone path, the gravel crunching beneath their feet, each step seeming louder than the last. Before they could knock, the door swung wide, and her father's figure appeared in the doorway. His presence was as suffocating as the house itself.

"Thank you for bringing her home, Shoupe," Ward said, nodding.
"No problem, Mr. Cameron, have a good night," Shoupe said as he walked away.

"Honey, what's going on?" Ward asked, his voice soft but laced with concern.

"Nothing, Dad. I was doing things..." Amelia said, voice trailing off, not meeting his gaze.

"Sweetheart, something's going on. You don't just sneak out at night and ignore Sarah's texts, or mine." Ward's voice was quiet but sharp, a sense of worry creeping in.

"I just... needed some time," Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You can't just disappear like that without a word, Amelia," Ward said, his tone gentler now, but there was an edge to it.

"I know... I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to scare you," Amelia said, glancing up momentarily before quickly looking away.

"Honey, I get that, but I need to know where you are, especially when spending so much time with people I don't trust." His voice hardened, and Amelia felt her stomach twist.

"What do you mean?" she asked, the rising panic in her chest sharpening her tone.

"I'm talking about JJ, honey.," Ward said, his face tightening. "I've been hearing things, Amelia. He's trouble, and I don't want you getting mixed up in whatever mess he's involved in."

"Dad, JJ isn't—" Amelia started, but her father cut her off, the intensity in his voice rising.

"I don't care what you think he is. I've seen the way he behaves. The rumours. The people he's with. You don't know what kind of trouble he's pulling you into."

Amelia's heart raced, the heat of anger flooding her chest. How dare he judge JJ like that? She wasn't even sure why she was so defensive—was it because she loved him, or was it simply the injustice of her dad's assumptions?

"You're wrong," she said, her voice rising, the fight surging in her chest. "You don't even know him, Dad. He's not like that."

"I know enough," Ward said firmly. "And I'm telling you, Amelia, you're not seeing him or any of them again." His words hit her like a slap, and she felt her blood boil.

"Dad, you can't do that," Amelia said, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and disbelief. "You can't just dictate who I can and can't see."

Ward's gaze softened, but his voice was unyielding. "I'm your father, Amelia. And I can because I'm trying to protect you. I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger. Not for JJ, not for John B, nobody."

Amelia stood frozen, her body trembling with a cocktail of fury and helplessness. She was ready to argue, to defend JJ, to present every reason why her father's fears were unjustified. But it was as if the words were frozen, caught someplace between her mind and lips, unable to move. Her father's mind was so rigid, opinions so certain, and his concerns so deeply rooted that she felt like a child again, small and powerless. The more he talked, the smaller she felt, like a shadow in a room full of light—unseen and insignificant.