ELLA
This sinking feeling in my chest is one I haven’t felt for a long time. A very long time. I’m not unfamiliar with the sickening churn in my gut or the heaviness that presses down on my shoulders, begging me to cave to it and make myself small.
After the last year and a half, I’m quite used to its abuse and the screaming that accompanies it in the back of my mind. This particular feeling, though, is one that used to come often as a child. I imagine so many people feel it. All of us, really. The gut instinct that warns a child they’re in trouble. That they’ve done something very wrong and disappointed the ones they love.
The memory of my father’s dark eyes narrowing as I stood there, my fingertips fiddling with the hem of my shirt or my sleeve, forces me to swallow although my throat is dry.
The men surrounding me aren’t my father, but they have authority over me and it’s not until now that I feel both immense regret in this decision and an anxiousness as I question the consequences of my impulsive actions. It’s all too much.
The expression on each of the men who sit across from me tells me disappointment is only one of several emotions. Anger, betrayal … Concern. Kamden’s fidgeting, and his readjusting in the simple black mesh office chair next to me makes me even more uncomfortable.
He’s barely looked at me. None of the men have since I sat down. It’s eerily quiet and the squeak of the wheels rolling as Silas takes a seat next to Cade marks the first noise I’ve heard apart from someone clearing their throat.
I woke up expecting to find Zander, but his shift had ended and instead Silas waited for me downstairs. He was polite but firm that I should dress quickly. Silas was my driver to this less than appealing meeting.
He’s been vague and his tone far less pleasant than it typically is.
My heart may be rampaging, beating against the cage that contains it, but I endeavor to keep my shoulders squared and my expression emotionless, neither positive nor negative. Even if every man in this room wears a stone-cold expression to match the dark gray of their power suits.
I could have worn black for mourning and to reflect this deep-seated emotion that brews inside of me, but that’s uninspiring so I opted for a dark red silk blouse and high-waisted skinny jeans. Red is a color of confidence.
“What’s this about?” I question and my gaze is drawn to Cade’s throat, the cords of it tightening before my eyes travel back up and he offers me a tight smile.
“It’s about your relationship with Zander.” Kamden’s voice is low, cautious even. There’s a ping that runs through me. It’s sharp, like swallowing a thorn, and keeps me from answering immediately. That churning in my gut intensifies as I meet Kamden’s gaze and then Cade’s. It’s a horrid feeling that, in this particular moment, can fuck right off.
“What of it?” I reply in a harsher tone than I’d have liked. I’ve never desired to be a “bitch” so to speak, although I hate that word. I might not be a fighter and I might hate confrontation, but that doesn’t mean for one second that I can’t defend myself. A side of me that I haven’t felt for years returns.
In the silence, I question again, “What of it?” Cade recovers quickly, but I don’t miss the shock in his dilated pupils.
The man himself looks worn thin. Bags under his eyes match those of Kamden’s, if I’m honest. Silas focuses on his clasped hands in front of him, not reacting at all to anything. If I could read minds, I’d wager a bet he’d rather be anywhere other than here.
With a heat simmering along my shoulders, I wait for any of them to speak. Kamden repositions in his seat yet again and then places his hand over mine. I don’t react to the contact; instead I stare at a dull painting of black and gray smears that’s hung on the wall behind Cade as Kamden speaks. It’s a modern piece that would fade into any room. Surely it’s only meant to take up space.
Clearing his throat, it’s obvious that Kamden is the one who will initiate this conversation. “Mr. Thompson crossed a line,” Kamden starts and that brief sentence grants him my full attention.
My expression hardens and I can’t help it. I’m quick to rip my hand away from under his. My bottom lip trembles as betrayal overrides every other emotion. I desperately wish I could control myself more in this moment and not allow the shock and despair to show at all because I know emotion doesn’t work with men. In this room, I’m the one who lacks any power at all. My guardians and conservator have all the power they want over me, yet I can’t help but scoff, “He crossed a line?” In that instant, under Kamden’s unwavering expression of concern, I consider, for a moment, that Zander’s done with me.
That I was foolish to feel more and think there was more between us. We slept together, he told them, and now he’s done with me.
It wouldn’t be the first time I thought a man wanted more than just a fling. The thought is an ice bath but I’m quickly relieved of that submersion when Kamden says, “I placed cameras in the living room … I know he took advantage of you.”
I feel sicker as his admission sinks in. This is a new kind of hell. A bloody nightmare. One I can’t escape.
“You put cameras …?” I can’t finish the question; there’s no more air in my lungs. He put cameras in my home? Kamden spied on me? My Kamden? The one man I can remember who I’ve trusted all my life? The questions race through my mind. It’s not possible. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Cade says something, confidently even, not that I hear a damn word. Kamden’s blue gaze doesn’t leave mine. We’re caught here, staring at one another as we come to terms with our new reality. I hope Kam can feel this, this burgeoning sense of betrayal brewing through me. It’s hot and suffocating. My eyes prick and I hate it. I hate that he’s done this to me.
I expect a lover to break my heart, but not Kamden.
“Yes. I put cameras in the house to—” His voice is even before I cut him off, although his expression is anything but. There’s a sorrow there that I’ve seen before. Only once, but it’sthe kind of sorrow that comes with the fear of losing me.
“And you say Zander crossed a line?” It takes everything I have to push out the accusation as I stare at my dearest and closest companion. My bottom lip wobbles again and I have to bite down on it, closing my eyes out of frustration. My hands tremble and I pull them into my lap.
“You know I did it because I love you,” he practically whispers and I’d forgotten about the other two onlookers until one of their chairs protests as they readjust in their seat. I’m not sure which one it was, and I couldn’t care less. Let them watch. Let them know what it’s like to betray me.
“You spied on me.” My voice comes out in a low hiss as I raise my eyes to Kamden. I’m seething with anger.
“You … I can’t trust … I …” Kamden stumbles over his own words and I struggle not to break his gaze. He does it instead. He’s the first to look away and seems to second-guess himself.