Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“Camden, you need to walk away, right now.”
“Natasha—”
“Walk the fuck away, or I’m calling the police.”
He growls. “Natasha, this isn’t what you think—”
“Oh, it’s not?” she barks out thinly. “What is it then, Camden?”
His jaw tightens.
“I love her, Natasha.”
My mom lets out this broken, anguished sound, shaking her head.
“Get off my property,” she hisses at him. “Camden, I swear to God—”
“Mom! Just stop, okay? Will you please just—”
She whirls and storms back into the house, leaving me frowning in confusion.
“Shit,” Camden growls. I turn to him, taking his hands in mine and looking up into his face.
“What are we going to do?”
He swallows, his jaw tight as he shakes his head.
“I don’t actually—”
“I’m counting to five, Camden!”
We whirl, and my jaw drops.
“Mom!?”
My mom is storming across the backyard towards us, and she’s got a gun in her hands.
“Natasha!” Camden roars. “Stop it!”
“Four!”
He moves in front of me, holding his hand out.
“Look, I get it, okay?” He barks. “I know you’re mad, and I know you think I’m some sort of monster, but I promise you, that’s not what this—”
“Three!”
“Mom! Please!”
“Two! I swear to God, Camden!”
“I love her!” he roars, planting his feet. “Goddamnit, Natasha, I love her!”
My mom falters, tears trickling down her cheeks and her hand holding the gun wavering until slowly, she lets it drop.
“I love her,” he says again, his chest heaving with his breath as the tension starts to fade.
“Please go,” she whispers. “Camden, please.”
Slowly, he takes a deep breath.
“Okay.”
My heart drops.
“Wait, what?! No!”
“Waverly—”
“No! You can’t!”
He turns to me, holding my hands in his and squeezing them tight.
“It’s too real right now,” he growls. “It’s too hot. I’m going to go—no, listen. I’m going to go so that no one gets hurt or she doesn’t do anything she’s going to regret.”
“Like shoot you?” I hiss.
“Like that, yeah,” he says quietly.
He turns.
“I’m leaving, Natasha.”
“Goddamn right you are,” she hisses back. “Oh, and you are one-hundred percent fired, fucker.”
His jaw clenches, but he nods. “So be it.”
“No, Camden—”
“This is how this has to play out right now, baby,” he says quietly, his face tight and his eyes looking broken and sad. “I’m not walking away from us, I’m just walking away from this, right now. Understand?”
“Yeah, but I fucking hate it,” I growl.
He grins, our eyes locking.
“Goddamnit, Camden!”
“I’m leaving!” he chokes out, glancing at my mom. “Okay? I’m leaving, Natasha.”
He looks back at me, and he quickly leans in and kisses my cheek before he turns. And then he’s walking out of the gate and into the night, and he’s gone.
My mom and I stand there in silence for a minute. Neither of us knowing what the hell to say, before she finally breaks it.
“Waverly—”
“Do not speak to—”
“I was going to ask if you wanted tea, honey,” she says softly, her voice haggard sounding.
My lips purse, and I glare at her with rage in my eyes for a full half minute, before finally, I shake my head and look away.
“Fine.”
* * *
The smell of mint and lavender curl from the steaming mug in front of me, but I don’t say a word. I haven’t the entire time mom’s been moving around the kitchen boiling water and getting teabags.
She sets her mug down on the island across from me, pulling up a stool until we’re sitting face to face.
“Honey—”
“A gun, mom?” I spit. “A fucking gun?”
Her face falls, and she looks away.
“Jesus Christ, mom! You work at a school! We live a quarter fucking mile from one!”
“It’s fake,” she mutters.
“What?!”
“It’s fake, Waverly,” she shrugs. “Obviously. I just have it to scare anyone if they ever tried to break in.”
I swear, shaking my head pursing my lips.
“You had no right—”
“Waverly, you are a child.”
“I am not!” I yell. “Mom! I’m eighteen—”
“Well you’re my child!” she suddenly roars. “And that man—”
“That man is the man I love, mom!”
“You don’t—”
“Tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about!” I hiss savagely. “Fucking tell me I’m not feeling what I know I’m feeling!”
She deflates a little, her face paling as she looks down into her tea.
“Did he ever…” she frowns. “Honey, I know this is hard, but did he ever pressure—”
I bark out a brittle laugh. “No, he didn’t.”
“Honey, he’s an authority figure, and if he—”
“I pursued him, okay?” I snap.
Her eyes look up at me sharply.
“Yeah, mom, I went after him. I made a fake Sparkr profile, I lied about my age, and I lied to him. Because…” I close my eyes. “Because I love him, mom.”
She shakes her head. “Sweetheart, I… God.”
We sit in silence for another minute before she stiffens.
“When did you… I mean…”
“After my birthday,” I say quietly. “Mom, nothing happened before I was eighteen, I promise.”
She chews at her lip before she raises her mug and takes a sip gingerly.
“Waverly, your father was a lot older when we met, and—”