When It Comes To You [√] BOOK TWO

4

Camila and Gabbie in the media

Camilla

Justin Bieber’s voice filled the room and I reached for my phone. Ford’s caller ID flashed on the screen. I had just been spending an entire two hours deleting every single trace of our relationship on my phone and bedroom but a part of me still hoped he would call and say it was all a sick joke. I was still willing to forgive him.

Taking a deep breath, I answered. “Hello?”

“Are you home?” asked that deep voice I used to dream about.

“Why?”

Hope flooded through my veins and a vision of him running and asking for forgiveness flashed through my mind.

“I wanna come get my stuff and I don’t want to see you. I think we’ve caused each other enough heartbreak.”

The vision vanished and I was overcome by a wave of hurt.

“Hello, you there?”

Hurt was replaced by anger that he had no guts to talk to me face-to-face.

“I'm here. Andres and I just left the house. You’re free to go get your stuff. You still have the key, don't you?"

I hung up before he could reply and turned back to my brother.

“That motherfucken son of a bitch has the nerve to ask if I'm home just so he can ‘come collect his stuff’. Well if he wants his things he’s gonna have to give me an explanation.” I said to the figure lying on my bed.

“I figured that much. Do you really want to see him, though?” Andres asked.

I gulped. I wasn’t really sure. I mean, would asking questions give me the answers I had been longing for or would seeing him just hurt me even more?

Before I had time to answer, the sound of a motorcycle engine roared from outside. Andres got up and looked out my window before storming out of my room.

I got up from the floor and also looked out the window. Ford hadn’t come alone: he helped a gorgeous dark-haired girl with legs that went on forever off his motorcycle. She smiled and gave him a kiss then they walked hand in hand to my door. Bile crept into my mouth and my head felt a little fuzzy. The doorbell rang but it sounded a billion miles away. Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

I somehow found the strength to run down the stairs, yelling at Andres in my head not to do anything stupid. My feet stopped of their own accord on the last step as I watched the scene unfold in front of my eyes.

Andres slowly yanked the door open and I saw the surprise in Ford’s handsome face. His eyes found mine and I saw confusion mixed with guilt and something else I couldn’t name. Andres' fist found Fords jaw and I heard a piercing scream. The dark-haired bitch clasped her hands over her mouth in horror as her boyfriend went down.

“Andres stop!” a shrill voice echoed in my head as my brother pounded Ford’s body.

It was my voice, but it couldn’t come out of my mouth. Half of me felt like a spectator: watching the scene from someone else’s eyes.

This isn’t really happening, no you are just dreaming, I assured myself. There’s no way Ford would bring her to your house-not after what happened yesterday.

The other half of me battled to scream and tell Andres to stop. I couldn’t do anything but stay rooted to the spot and stare at the two of them on the floor.

The blood from Ford’s broken nose and lips splattered onto Andres’ t-shirt and the sound of breaking bone and terrified screams blurred into one. My vision blurred at the edges and the Darkness circled my head as a lion does before pouncing on its prey.

Finally oblivion came. The screams and punches disappeared, leaving only a darkness so thick it felt like tar.