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I bat my eyelashes. “Oh, then I’d better go sit on your lovely velvet sofa while I wait.”
She immediately changes her tune. “Eww. Go get clean, heathen.”
Pauline and I weren’t close friends—especially after she fell out with Erica—but I was desperate when I left Thorn Falls without a plan or anything except my purse and the clothing on my back, so I reached out to her. I knew she’d been in the city since her graduation last year.
She let me crash on the highly uncomfortable but very pretty sofa for a few days, welcoming me like I was family.
One week after my arrival, I snagged a job, and just around then, one of the four roommates announced she wanted to move in with her boyfriend. A fifth of the shoebox apartment’s rent—despite its advantageous location—is within my budget, so I didn’t hesitate to take her room. She appreciated being able to move without giving a month of notice, and my back was infinitely grateful to trade the velvet torture device on the lounge for her mattress.
I like it here. Pauline, Natalie, Harper and Toni are great fun. Still, LA isn’t my endgame. If I’d had enough money in my account in June, I would have travelled directly to New York to be close to Willow. But New York City is astronomically expensive, and the last-minute flight alone would have depleted my meager savings.
At the beginning, I intended to move east as soon as I saved up enough, but my first phone call with Willow removed the sense of urgency. Camden Hunt wasn’t kidding: incredibly, my sister was sent to a freaking Upper East Side penthouse. Her new accommodations are so far from our old trailer, it’s not even funny. She has a frilly princess room bigger than the whole trailer, decorated in beige and sage green, next to her own study, an en-suite, and a real walk-in closet. Her entire wardrobe from home would have fit on the first rack.
Her foster mother, Elle, is a lawyer, and her husband, John, a writer. Both made a point of introducing themselves to me by video chat. Willow can’t stop singing their praises and telling me everything she loves about her new city, like she was always a New Yorker at heart. Elle takes her shopping and for spa days. The oversized closet is filling up fast.
I’m uncomfortable with the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Crawford are acquaintances of Camden, but there are no other red flags so far. Willow lives a blessed life compared to mine. Our distance is terrifying, but I couldn’t offer her much even if I were closer. So, I decide to stay put until I have enough money to move logically, responsibly, like an adult. I can’t afford to keep running. There’s no Pauline to offer me a sofa or cheap rent in NYC. I don’t know anyone there except my sister.
It’s time to learn who I am, outside my duties to Willow.
I enrolled at the City College to keep myself busy, while clocking as many hours as I can at work. My expenses are considerably lower now that I don’t need to pay for Willow’s food, clothing, or her meds, on top of the trailer’s rent and utilities.
Our mother’s charges are—predictably—solicitation and dealing. She was caught with fifty thousand bucks’ worth of meth under her mattress. She’s going to serve time for years, and so she should. I know she’s guilty. I just think she wouldn’t have been caught unless Camden decided she should be.
It’s fine. She was never a mother to us. I raised myself and took care of my little sister on top of it. I’m fine. Good, even. More importantly, Willow is great. I get to worry about her far less than I ever did while we were under the same roof.
For the first time in my entire life, I am free.
If only the dreams would stop, maybe I’d get a full night’s sleep every now and then.
ChapterThirteen
“Come swim with me.”
I lower the visor of my cap further down my forehead, and make no answer.
She just won’t take a fucking hint.
Not many heterosexual men would complain about a toned, voluptuous swimsuit model-worthy It Girl visibly dying to jump on their cocks, but I’m so tired of her shit, for many reasons.
First of all, Kimberly is my cousin—a fact that she likes to ignore.
“Come on, Cam.” She pouts, though she should know by now than manipulative female wiles have no effect on me. “You’re just no fun today.”
Kim and I have a strange relationship—for cousins in any case. We met three years ago, before we knew we were related. Let’s just say, she looks like Rihanna and sucks harder than a vacuum cleaner. I haven’t been tempted since our families introduced us properly, but despite knowing that we share a great-grandmother, she’s pushing for another rodeo.
I blameGame of Thronesfor her obsession with me.
Roman laughs at my side. “He hasn’t been fun the whole summer, not even on his birthday.”
I’ve not been what she would consider fun for a lot longer than that.
Uninvited, Kim sits her perky, wet ass down on my strandkorb, although the next one’s free. “Oh?” she asks my nosy, annoying friend.
I shoot him a dark look he ought to take as a warning. Roman knows I’m trying to keep her at arm’s length. He doesn’t need to encourage her.
Unfortunately, Roman was never the smartest one of us. “I can’t get anything out of the man himself, but Montgomery let me know he had an interesting time with some local chick from our hometown before joining us in Europe.” Roman’s staring right at me, seeing how far he can push me before I snap.
The answer is not much further.
