Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,85

anyone!” Cameron’s face turned bright red, and his struggling increased. He swung a fist at Gabe’s face and clocked him in the lip. Gabe’s face turned, but his grip on Cameron’s shirt didn’t loosen. “She’s lying!”

Nora gasped, and I seized the opportunity to squirm away. Anger swirled within me like the inside of a tornado, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Nine years was too long. I pulled my arm back, ready to punch Cameron in the face. “You rotten creep… you worthless bastard… Do you care what you put me through?” My voice broke. “You ruined my life…you ruined everything!”

Guthrie yanked his arm out from in between the two enraged men and looped it around my waist. “Violet! Stop!” He held my hands down in my lap.

Craning my neck so I could see his face, I yelled, “Let go of me right now!”

He shook his head, his eyes as big as saucers. “Not until you calm down.”

“What has gotten into everyone?” Nora bellowed, positioning herself in between me and Cameron. “What did he do?”

“I was high! I was drunk!” Cameron shrieked, throwing another swing. “She came on to me, man! Everybody saw it! She was asking for it!”

“He raped Violet,” Gabe snarled. Guthrie and Nora turned to face him, their jaws hanging open. “In high school. It happened the night we broke up.”

Nora’s arms dropped, hanging limply at her sides. “That was what happened?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the sound of a fist hitting flesh cut me off. When I turned back to Gabe, Cameron was down on one knee, and his hands were scratching and clawing at Gabe’s midriff. Gabe’s fist slammed into Cameron’s face.

Everything started to move in slow motion. Guthrie’s arms around my middle loosened. Nora held her head, watching. And the skin split underneath Cameron’s right eye as Gabe’s fist came down four…five…six times. Bright red blood, dots as small as the tip of a pen, splattered on Gabe’s white T-shirt.

Then the slow motion effect wore off, and I found myself in the middle of a flurry of activity. Curtis and Guthrie hurtled forward to grab Gabe by his arms. Nora took Gabe’s face and told him in a trembling voice that he needed to stop before the neighbors called the police.

All I could focus on was Cameron in a heap on the deck floor, a small trickle of blood running down his cheek. Not a sight in the world could have brought me so much pleasure. As hysterical as I was, adrenaline coursing through my veins like a flooded river, part of me wanted to sing “We Are The Champions” down at his rapidly swelling face.

Gabe was pushed through the glass door, his jaw locked in place. The corner of his mouth was red and puffed out, and his pain-filled eyes met mine as his mother shut the door with a slam.

“Gabe…” I reached for the door, but Cameron scrambled to his feet and grabbed my arm. Hard.

“Who do you think you are, bringing this up now, Murphy?” he snarled. “Trying to ruin my life?”

“You mean like you ruined mine?!” I growled, pulling away. “You don’t intimidate me anymore,” I said to him, the quaking in my voice melting away. With each syllable, I felt stronger. More sure. I’d been waiting for this for nine years. “You’re lucky I didn’t ruin your life nine years ago. You should have paid for what you did to me.”

He pressed his lips together, and a nerve underneath his eye twitched. “I’m warning you, Muff—”

I turned so that I was facing Cameron head on. “You’re warning me?” I gripped the door handle so tight it could have broken off in my hand. “Actually, Cameron, I’m warning you. Stay away from my family. Stay away from my friends. And don’t you ever touch another woman like that again, or I will testify against you in whatever court, whatever state. I will see to it that you’re thrown in jail until you rot. Do you understand me?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” His breath smelled like whatever cocktail he’d consumed on the plane earlier.

“Wouldn’t I?” I gritted my teeth and returned his glare. I wouldn’t back down. Not this time. I wasn’t a terrified teenager anymore.

“Cameron, come on. You’re not wanted here. Is that clear?” Guthrie pried Cameron’s hand off my arm, and when he made a move to go through the glass door, he added, “No. You can go around. You’re not welcome in my home anymore.”

Cameron sneered at

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