The Cove

Chapter 4: Cadi

The summer night is obscured with endless darkness, lit only by a yellow moon that hangs in a starless, velvet sky. I sit in the living room in front of a widescreen TV, but the flashing colors and the laughter emitting from the screen don't do a thing to calm me. The house is quiet and still. It's nine twenty-eight, and my nerves are shot with tension.

"We need to talk." That's never good...

The sound of a slamming car door outside makes me start, and my head spins uncomfortably when I rise too fast, forcing me to stand immobile like a statue as my vision returns. The doorbell rings, and I freeze yet again, staring at the front door as if afraid to even open it, to hear what dire thing he has to say to me.

A minute passes during which the doorbell rings again, sending little shock waves through me. My legs move as if of their own accord, and my clammy hands grasp the cool doorknob and release the deadbolt. Cameron stands on the other side of the threshold in the darkness of the porch, hands in the pockets of his gray jeans, and my heart skips a shaky beat. He's slim and tall, a whole head taller than me, and half of his face is hidden in the darkness.

"Hey, Cadi," he says, his voice floating on the air between us. It's soft and relaxed, unlike his stance.

"Hey," I reply breathlessly. "Come in."

Cam steps past me as I close the door. We stand in the dark entrance way awkwardly regarding each other with expressions of wariness, and the seconds tick by like mini time bombs. Panic rises in me, forming a knot in my throat. No. No, no, no, this isn't how it's supposed to be. We're supposed to be smiling at one another, leaning in for a hug, a soft kiss. I'm supposed to laugh as he says something witty, but he just stands there in front of me, glancing around, clearly uneasy.

"How are you?" he finally asks as his dark gaze rests on me.

"Cut to it," I throw back.

"We have to talk."

"You've made that clear."

"About us."

"I know." I sigh. "It seems like you've been avoiding me."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I just... I wanted to." The words sound forced as if he doesn't want to even say them, and they still manage to cut into me. He wanted to.

"Why?" I bite my lip, and my eyes fall to my hands.

"Look at me." His voice is so smooth, yet the dash of pain draws my gaze.

His eyes bore into mine, and something in them looks wounded and torn. I'm shaken. Usually, he puts on this tough guy mask. He takes it away when he's with me, but he's never allowed it to leave this much. He looks almost frightened, and seeing him look that way is enough to set the panic on fire. Whatever he has in store must be all kinds of terrible.

"It took me a long time and a few tries to get you," he murmurs, giving a short laugh. There's not a drop of humor in it.

"Yeah," I say stiffly. "I was scared of you."

"I know."

"I'm not scared of you now," I tell him. "I know you would never hurt me."

"Are you so sure of that?" He stares at me with somber eyes, his head slightly tilted. "Maybe I'm selfish for wanting you."

"Why?" I ask.