A Promise Gone Wrong

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Letting Guards Down

{Trigger Warning: assault, molestation}

~~
~~~Rebecca~~~
~~

"What the fuck do you want?" Cameron snaps, turning to a girl who's been following us on our walk to class. 

She's the eighth one this morning. 

Hurt widens her hazel eyes for a moment before she scowls. "You've been ignoring me for weeks. Weeks," she emphasizes. "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. Why did we stop hooking up? Did you get burned? Am I not good enough for you anymore?" Her gaze now shifts to me and she finally notices that he's been holding my hand this entire time. "What are you, a new fuck-buddy? Listen, he doesn't need anymore. He can barely manage the ones he has."

Except he isn't managing anything.

Opening my mouth, I intend to stand up for myself but Cameron steps between us. 

"She's my girlfriend," he answers her question and while her jaw goes slack, my heart blooms. Despite his steady, dark gaze and defensive posture I can't help but step closer to him, tucking myself in his arm. 

"Ha!" she scoffs, looking at him like she's waiting for a prank reveal only to realize he isn't kidding. "Seriously? Her? Cameron--" trailing off, she steps forward placing a hand on the center of his chest and his entire body goes rigid before he slaps her wrist away. 

"Keep your fifthly fucking hands to yourself and stay away from me," he growls, his tone the harshest I've ever heard so far. Then, he gently tugs me along behind him leaving her in our dust as we rush to history class. 

"Hey," I breathe, pulling back on his hand before we enter the classroom. 

Stopping, he releases a hard sigh and I half expect him to look annoyed when he turns to face me. Much to my surprise his clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows smooth over instead. His gaze remains guarded though, but I can tell he's exhausted. 

Each of his hoes, made advances regardless of my presence and his explanation about our relationship status. Their hands wrapped around his arms, waist, torso, and chest. I could feel him cringe every single time and knowing the contact reminds him of what his aunt did I can only imagine how triggered he is right now.

With the day just beginning, I'll bet he's dreading the rest. 

"I'm sorry I was such a dick to them in front of you," he murmurs, regret flashing in his troubled eyes. 

"It's okay."

"It's not," he argues, eyes sharp and tone edgy though his voice is soft. Unsure of what to say, I just bite my tongue. "This is that side of me I don't want to be anymore. Not around you," he explains. "But I can't help it right now because of her. Because of them. Knowing it's my fault for being--" trailing off, his pained gaze lowers to the floor as he shakes his head and let's go of my hand. 

It's like he's disgusted with himself.

"Cameron--"

"Aye, Cameron, we saw you talking with Erica just now. You still hitting that?" a guy from the hockey team asks, walking by with a grin and slapping a hand onto his shoulder. 

Reflexively, Cameron's fist slams into the guy's face. A crack at contact sounding like thunder before the guy smashes against the door.

I gasp, stumbling out of the way as our classmate retaliates. Being a hockey player, he's bigger than Cameron and has no problem tackling him to the floor.