In the middle of it all.

CHAPTER 30

Song: "Hero" - by Skillet.

TW: Mentions of extreme physical and emotional abuse. Please read with caution and know that, if you or someone you know has ever faced this, that there's never shame in hiding trauma. There are people who can help, please seek the help.

***************

Cameron squirmed in his seat. Mikayla felt his restlessness and, the constant moving of the cushion was starting to irritate her. He wasn't speaking. She knew he hadn't expected that question but, she wasn't going to let him leave until she got answers. "Cam," she called to him delicately.

His moving stopped. "Wh- why do you need to know?"

Mikayla hated hearing the shake in his voice. Daxton hadn't said much about their parents except that they were addicts. Daxton had alluded to their past being a troublesome one and one worthy of Cameron's nightmares. Mikayla expected resistance. She expected hesitation and worry but, she hadn't expected fear. She stretched out her hand and pat the cushion until she hit something rough. She drew her hand up his arm, feeling the little hairs stand stiff. "You can trust me."

She felt his arm shake beneath her fingers. Cameron scoffed with little effort. "It's nothing to do with trust."

"Then what?"

He pulled away from her. "I don't want to remember."

Mikayla's mouth dropped as quickly as her hand. "It's not my intention to make you scared or to have you re-live things you don't want to. I just want to understand. Somehow, this mess Daxton has found himself in – the same mess we're trying to fix – all has to do with your parents. If we're going to help your brother, we need to understand what we're up against. That means I need to know."

"I don't think I can."

"I don't need details Cam. I don't need to know everything but, I need to have an idea." Mikayla wasn't sure if what she'd said fallen on open ears or not. Cameron said nothing. She still felt him beside her but, he'd moved and added greater distance between them. She could hear his breathing. It was irregular and worried her some. Nelly lay near Mikayla's feet, her head pointed towards Cameron. Mikayla knew the dog sat waiting for a signal. Any hitch of breath of accelerated breathing from Cam, Nelly would pounce.

"Alright."

Mikayla's head shot towards his direction. Her mouth opened. "You'll tell me."

"Yes." He took in a deep breath. "But, not everything. Just enough."

She nodded aggressively. "That's all I'm asking for."

She heard his intake and the cracking of his knuckles. His arms shook out wildly. Then he spoke. His voice quiet and dejected in a way Mikayla never thought possible from someone as full of life as Cameron Reynolds. "Our parents were addicts, the worst kind. They met in high school and, as the old story goes, my mother fell pregnant. My mother was only sixteen. Our father had just turned eighteen. My mother's parents kicked her out. She had no one else to turn to except my father. He married her only to avoid charges of statutory rape. My mothers' father was a cop and threatened that if my father didn't do the right thing and marry her and take 'the problem away', he'd throw him in prison."

Mikayla felt her own breaths slow in time with Cameron's. She turned her body to face his. She listened carefully and it seemed, so did Nelly. "My father was a deadbeat. He dropped out of school and looked for any odd jobs he could find. He could never hold anything down permanently. He'd always be fired for dealing drugs, taking drugs or drinking on the job." He breathed in and shuffled some more on the sofa.