that I love him too.” I stood up, jumping on my bed. “I love him! A lot! A lot! A lot! Forever and forever and forever!”
Snapping out of it, I jerked back, loudly gasping, “Holy shit.”
“Faith!” Mom scolded, bringing everyone’s attention over to me. “I don’t care—”
“You’re him,” I interrupted her, knowing the truth in the core of my being. “Aren’t you?”
There I sat in the chair in the living room, thinking back on the last seven months.
His actions.
His words.
Everything I felt from the very first time I walked into his home, from seeing the pictures on the walls, to feeling his presence in the air, to the riveting connection of our first encounter.
“Mario,” Mom nodded to my father as if she knew we needed to discuss this alone, “come check the food with me.” Winking at me, she read my mind. “Danté, you too.”
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Danté!”
“Fine.” He stood, pointing at me. “I want every last detail later. No excuses.”
Even Danté’s swagger couldn’t break my surreal state that was only focused on the truth. I needed to know.
Now.
Mom gave me another wink before shutting the panel doors to give us some privacy.
In four long strides, he was over to me, backing me up into the wall from my chair with a hard thud. Caging me in with his arms. The expression on his face read nothing but love, while his words were filled with nothing but hostility when he growled, “Don’t you ever fuckin’ run away from me again, do you understand me?”
My body jolted from the impact of his tone and demeanor toward me. The somewhat calm man that was present with my parents in the room was long gone and, in his place, stood a very, very, very, pissed off Aiden Pierce.
I’d only ever seen him this way the first time we met with Journey and then Jackson. This man was fucking seething. I stood there for I don’t know how long, utterly speechless.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been about you? Do you even fuckin’ care?”
“I… I… I…”
“You what?”
“I’m… I’m… sorry.”
“Camila, you don’t ever do that to me again. I thought something happened to you, a fuckin’ car accident or worse, Sean.”
“Sean was arres—”
“I’m fully fuckin’ aware of where Sean is, and I didn’t drive all this way to talk about him,” he gritted through a clenched jaw, holding back his angry tone from my parents.
How did he know about Sean?
Not giving any time to think about it, he roared, “For fuck’s sake, I was ready to call every goddamn hospital in North Carolina looking for you.”
“I’m sorr—”
“I thought… Jesus Christ, Cami, I thought you were hurt or worse… fuck, I can’t even bring myself to say it.”
Talk about a kick in the gut, I knew what he was implying. My thoughts were swinging back and forth along with my emotions. I was suffocating in them. It didn’t help that he was right. Hating myself further for what I put him through this morning.
“I just didn’t think—”
“Exactly. You didn’t think about anyone but yourself.”
“Hey! That’s not fair.”
“You want to know what’s not fair, I thought I fuckin’ lost you. Now that’s not fuckin’ fair.”
“You’re going to make me cry.”
It was like those six little words had a huge impact on his rage, he instantly pulled away and I felt the loss of his touch. Even if it was his fury that engulfed me, it was still him.
Before I could apologize again, he knelt down in front of me, grabbing my foot.
“Ah!”
“I should spank your ass raw for this.”
“I’m not one of your kids.”
“You sure-as-shit act like one.” He pushed the heel of my foot back and I swear I almost passed out from the pain. Biting down on my lower lip instead.
“On the scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, where is your pain level when I do this?”
“Fuck!”
“What about this?”
“Oh my God! Are you trying to make me punch you?”
He did a few more twists and turns, and I held back from doing exactly that.
Reaching into his medical bag that I suddenly realized he brought with him, he continued chastising me, “If you wouldn’t have run from me, then you wouldn’t be here in pain.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t talk in your sleep.”
He ignored my rebuttal, stating, “It’s just a bad sprain. I’ll stabilize your ankle, but I’m going to have to give you a shot for the pain and swelling first.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“It’s not going to feel great.”
“Can we skip