Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Shortly feels like an eternity. I keep my eyes glued to the front door of my house, praying for Cam to walk out safely. Finally, it opens, and I see Cam step outside. He looks a little battered, and I can see a bruise already forming on his cheekbone, but otherwise he looks fine.
I sob again, this time with relief, and the paramedic, trying to calm me down, laughs. "Looks like he's fine, miss."
He approaches the ambulance slowly, a grim expression on his face, and my stomach clenches. The joy of seeing him alive and unharmed drains away when I realize he's in cuffs, two cops flanking him, and tears fill my eyes again.
"What happened?" I yell, hoping someone will answer me. Paramedics run into the house, and while Cam is being led to the police car, another figure is brought out on a stretcher. I suck in a breath when I see that it's Frank, unconscious and bloodied.
They rush him to the second ambulance and hop in, doors slamming as they speed away. I stare after them for a long moment before turning back to Cam.
"Cam! What the hell happened? Why are you in handcuffs?"
"Kelly, baby," he murmurs. "Come here."
"No!" I shake my head, hair flying. "Not until someone explains what the fuck is going on!"
"Please, Kelly."
I want to refuse, but there is something in his voice that breaks down the last of my resistance. I go to him, and he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"I'm okay, sweetheart," he whispers. "It's going to be okay."
"You're in cuffs," I gulp. "That's not okay!"
"Kelly, look at me. The gun went off, but it went wide. No one got shot, but I..." He licks his lips, and when he looks away, his expression is equal parts satisfied and shaken. "I beat the hell out of him, Kelly, until he was out cold. They're got to take me in. It's the law, and it's not their fault."
By now, all of the neighbors are outside, either on their front lawns or porches, and Cam nods towards Mrs. Blevins, who is in her housecoat despite the Georgia heat. The older woman shuffles over as Cam tells me, "Agatha will take care of you until you've calmed down, but they've got to take me to the station now, okay?"
"No!" I sob. "No, no, no!"
"Shhh, Kelly. You're all right. Agatha is going to take good care of you."
"No, Cam, you can't leave! You can't leave me here alone!" I know I’m making no sense. The threat is gone, but hysteria is still growing inside of me at the thought of Cam being taken away. Maybe I really am in shock.
"Kelly," Mrs. Blevins says softly, placing a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. "Come on, now. You'll be all right."
I look from her to Cam, and back again, trying to process what's happening. Cam can't go to jail, not after all of this. Not after he saved me. It’s not fair.
"I have to go," Cam says gently as the police move him towards the car, patience waning. "I know you don't want me to, but I have to. I love you, Kelly Davidson."
It’s the first time he’s ever said it, and the confession only makes me cry harder. I know I’m a tear-covered, snotty mess, but I can’t help it.
"I love you, too," I whisper. "But if you go to jail for real, I'm going to kill you."
He laughs softly, and so does Mrs. Blevins, though she pats my shoulder consolingly.
"I'll call a lawyer if I have to," Cam promises, "and I'll be home soon. I'll talk to you as soon as I can, okay? Be good."
The officers open the door of their car, and Cam leans down to kiss me once more before getting in. My tears are pouring down my cheeks, and my entire body is shaking, and when the car speeds off down the street, I feel like I'm going to pass out.
"Come on," Mrs. Blevins says gently. "Let's get you inside, and we'll make some tea. You're having quite the day."
"Yeah," I whisper, feeling numb all over. "I am."
Agatha Blevins, for the first time since I've met her, has nothing to gossip about. She takes me into her home, which is like a velvet-covered time machine, and gives me sweetened chamomile tea, rubbing my back soothingly and asking me questions about anything and everything besides Cam, Frank, and what just happened.
When I'm finally able to breathe again, she walks me home, sees the blood and overturned furniture in the kitchen, and, before I can spiral into another panic attack, firmly tells me to go upstairs and have a hot bath while she takes care of everything.
By the time I come back downstairs over an hour later, there are two other older women in my house, apparently Agatha's friends from down the street. Everything is clean and perfect, and it looks like nothing ever happened, the air smelling like disinfectant and mopping solution.