“I was protecting you! It’s my fucking job.”
“You think a girl like me can’t handle herself? Even if I can’t, killing the guy is your first resolution of conflict?”
“Resolution of conflict? What is this shit?” My hands flew in the air. “I wasn’t gonna kill him, I was teaching the fucker a lesson.”
“Didn’t look like that to me.”
“Cammie—”
“My moral compass doesn’t exactly point North. I mean I’ve done some terrible shit. To you.” Her eyes rimmed with tears. “That doesn’t mean I go kill anyone I don’t like.”
“Again, I thought I was protecting you, Cameron. It’s not what you think.”
“Yes, it is. This isn’t about any of the shit you said or protection or jealousy. Everywhere we go, girls are ogling you. I get jealous as fuck. I want to rip their eyes out of their cavities and beat the hell out of every girl who flirts with you, but do you see me fucking do it?” she yelled. “This is about you. What you’re capable of.”
My hands landed on my hips instead of punching a wall. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Well, answer me this. What were you planning on doing if I gave you the name of my high school ex and told you he had abused me in any way?”
I was gonna make him beg for death before I finished him.
Her tears stained her face as she stared at me, waiting for an answer she already knew. “All this time, I was terrified to ask you what kind of things you’ve been doing for the gang because of this moment.” She wiped her face fast. “The moment I find out you kill just because you can.”
“Again, not true. But you know as much as I do some fuckers deserve to die. It’s a necessity.”
“Are you listening to yourself right now? Isn’t that what Roar used to tell you?” she whimpered, startled.
I took a step back and looked down, surprised at my words, too.
“You keep saying you’re not him and you run things differently, but look at you. The next thing I know you’ll be kidnapping fifteen-year-old girls and rape them to death.”
My skin crawled. “That’s not fair. I’d never do that, and you know it.”
“Why? Because you’re above it? Because it’s not as equally horrendous as taking innocent lives?”
“Cammie, sweetheart. I know I overreacted tonight.” I reached to hold her but stopped short. I didn’t want to get any blood on her. “I’m so sorry. I thought he was hurting you, and I snapped.”
She was crying again, throwing more things inside her bag.
“Cameron, please. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My stomach tied in a knot by the calm resolution in her tone. “You think the gang is changing me and messing with my head. That’s what you mean, right?”
She didn’t answer, and I lied to myself, refusing to believe she literally meant what she was implying. “Well, it’s all gonna be over in two weeks anyway, maybe even earlier. No funny business. No more Night Skulls. We’ll start fresh. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“No.” Her rasp was low and cold.
“What do you mean no? What are you… What are you telling me, Cammie?”
She zipped the bag and walked to the door, sniffling. Then she spun and looked at me. “Go back to Rosewood. To your brothers. To your Mama. And stay. It’s where you truly belong.”
“Cammie—”
She faced the door. Her hand and tears fell on the knob. “Goodbye, Dusty.”
11. Dusty
