One of the Boys ✔️

XXVII

Cam was still asleep when I woke up in the morning, but this felt unlike the other times we'd woken up together. Before, it was a moment of sweetness or need that had resulted in a shared bed, but last night was something new for both of us. A connection had been uncovered after yesterday's events. I could feel it deep within me, and I could see it in the way Cam clung to me, even in his sleep. I know that he had woken up a few times during the night to see if I was okay, and despite my reassurances that I was fine, he had still slept fitfully. Now, his breathing was even, and his grip firm around my waist as my head rested on his chest.

I smiled at the sight before me. Gone was the terse look that sometimes clouded his features. In its place was a look of pure relaxation. A smile managed to creep onto my face before I slowly tried to extricate myself from Cam's hold.

As soon as I lifted one of his arms, he grunted and pulled me even tighter. I suppressed a quiet laugh, and gently pried his fingers from my skin before letting him hug a pillow instead. Whether he recognised the difference or not, Cam burrowed his face into the pillow, never once waking from his sleep. I stopped to watch him for a moment. My eyes followed the sleep ruffled brown hair to his soft lips, before tracing the curve of his shoulder and witnessing the steady rise and fall of his chest. His lower half was covered by the sheet that was haphazardly draped over his body.

I turned from his room and headed back into my own. The door was shut. Cam must have closed it after grabbing my clothes last night. I paused before the door, my hand halfway caught in a simple gesture to turn the doorknob. I wasn't sure what I was going to find or feel when I stepped inside the room. My chest tightened at the thought of Ethan being in there once more, but I couldn't shake the feeling no matter how silly it seemed.

Like ripping off a bandaid, I thought as I walked into the room. At first, you wouldn't think that anything was out of place; the bed was made, there was the usual mess of clothes casually strewn across the room, a book still laying open to the page I'd last been reading. But what drew my eye was the white towel lying in the centre of the room, and the faint drops of red that I could see on its edges before they disappeared from my view.

Ethan's blood.

Whether it was from my head in his nose, or Cam's fist in his face, I couldn't say. But the sight was triggering to something within me nonetheless.

What the hell was wrong with me? It's not like he had a weapon that he could have harmed me with. Yes, he had anger on his side, but he was drunk and careless. I'd been taking boxing classes for crying out loud. Half the time he wasn't even restraining me! He only touched me at first with his hand over my mouth and his other around my throat. My arms were free. My legs were never confined. Why didn't I elbow him? I had my options; stomach, ribs, groin, throat, face. I could have kicked him at any time throughout that ordeal. I'm sure a sharp kick to the shin would have startled him enough to let me go.

I felt nothing at that moment other than a sharp, burning rage against no one but myself. Why was I so bloody incapable of looking after myself? Lunging for the first thing I could grab, I threw it with all my might across the room where it shattered against the wall. I turned my head, running a hand through my hair as my breaths increased.

I heard the hurried footsteps a second before I felt Cam behind me. I knew that he was taking in the sights; the smashed photo frame on the floor, my obvious distress. I knew that he was saying something, but my eyes were glued to the crumpled photograph lying underneath all of that glass. It was a photo of my family, all smiling giddily at the camera as we posed with some actors at Movie World.

Such a happy time, captured perfectly in that photo. An emotion that was so at odds with what was coursing through my chest at the moment. There were so many feelings pulsing around I couldn't pinpoint what I was feeling the strongest. Anger. Frustration. Shock. Confusion.