Page 19 of Be Mine Forever

“So do I.” Jo grabbed her phone and earphones from the counter. “Pierce will take me to the hospital.”

Jo met Cam’s eyes, new resolve squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine. If Cam did want her and she wasn’t imagining it, he didn’twantto want her. And he didn’t want to do anything about it. And apparently he was willing to hurt her so she would get the message.

Message received, buddy. Loud and clear.

Jo took her shower and offered a hasty good-bye to the lovebirds. She dared her tears to fall on the ride to the hospital. Posture erect, she sat in the backseat of the limo, watching the city in flashes through the window. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her ankles. She swaddled herself in composure and blinked until the tears in her eyes got the message and dried up.

She visited with her family, making sure Meredith and Mama Jess were providing everything Walsh and Kerris needed. And then she hopped on the Walsh Foods jet and headed back to Rivermont. She never looked back. And promised herself she never would again.

Chapter Six

Cam stood at the open refrigerator door, staring at the empty shelves. Mayonnaise and a block of multicolored government cheese. Mama hadn’t shopped for groceries…again. The only thing in his hungry stomach was a growl. He tried to remember the last thing he had eaten. Dried out pizza, one lousy fruit cup, and a pile of mashed potatoes at the cafeteria yesterday. He’d eaten everything on his plate and anything his friends had left because he’d known what was coming.

The weekend.

Weekends were the worst. At least Monday through Friday he could count on free lunch at school, even if dinner was never guaranteed. If it was a good night and Mama had customers…well, after they were done, there would be a little cash. Mama would send him out for McDonald’s or whatever was cheap and open. He didn’t know how to feel about those nights. Was a Big Mac worth it? Worth the sounds the men made when they screwed Mama? She told him not to say “fuck,” even though some of his friends already said it. Mama didn’t make much sense sometimes. He couldn’t say fuck, but she could do it for money with men she didn’t know. Even at ten years old, Cam knew there was something wrong with that.

Cam noticed a bag of Wonder Bread on the counter. He hoped there wasn’t anything furry and blue or green on the bread. All the slices had mold, except for two. Cam fist pumped because that was all he needed. He made the most pitiful lunch ever, a mayonnaise sandwich. It wasn’t his first and probably wouldn’t be his last. If you werehungry, a mayonnaise sandwich tasted as good as the cubed steak they got sometimes on Thursdays at the school cafeteria.

The apartment wasn’t much bigger than one of their food stamps, so when the door opened, there was nowhere to hide. The living room and kitchen crawled on top of each other in the cramped space, and there was no way someone could enter the place and not be seen. So Cam saw the big man as soon as he walked in, infecting the room with the sweet, musky blend of nasty cologne and his BO.

Cockroaches and rats didn’t pay rent, but they sure lived here. Sometimes Mama would say they had just as much right to be here as Cam since he didn’t pay any more rent than they did. So he knew about rat’s eyes, and the man blocking the way out had rat’s eyes. Black and cold, round and hard like the marbles Cam had lifted from Family Dollar on a dare. The first day Mama brought Ron MacKenzie home, it had been hot enough to turn on the fire hydrants outside, but Cam had been cold and shivered when this man walked through the door. Under those rat eyes, he was cold now.

“Your mama home?” Mac must have shoved most of the room’s air into the hall because when he closed that door, Cam couldn’t breathe.

“Uh, no. She’ll be home soon.”

“How you know she’ll be home soon?”

“She’s always home soon.” She fucked here. She smoked here. This was home. Where else would she be for very long?

He always thought if Mac ever had the chance, he would hurt him like he hurt Mama sometimes. Cam was scared this was his chance.

“Your mama’s a slob.” Mac picked up the Styrofoam cup off the coffee table,looking at the bite marks Cam had left around the rim before tossing it on the floor. “And a ho.”

Cam bit the inside of his cheek, sinking his teeth into the words he wanted to throw back at Mac. His mama might be a ho, but she kept this place kind of decent. When she wasn’t on that pipe or busy fucking customers, she wasn’t a slob. He felt like he should defend her just that little bit, but he’d seen rats gnaw through shoes. And he’d seen Mac beat Mama, so he kept quiet.

“You one of them pretty boys, huh?”

It wasn’t the first time Cam had heard that. In Barfield projects, the lines were drawn in black and brown, so anybody in between stood out. And he was definitely in between. Not black, not white, not brown, but some crazy swirl of all three that made him stand out like a sore, mixed-up thumb. He didn’t look like any of his friends. He used to get beat up all the time because people thought his curly hair made him softer than them, but Cam had fought more than one of Mama’s customers off. Losing a time or two had toughened him up quick. His outside might be pretty, but his inside already knew what ugly was all about.

Mac took the few steps separating him from the front door and the kitchen. Cam looked away from him, focused on pulling the crust off his sandwich. Even looking away, he still saw Mac. He was as big as the Hulk, but instead of being green, his skin was the color of pennies, red and brown at the same time. Even his hair was the color of red mud. It only made his eyes seem blacker. Even as dark as his eyes were, you could still make out the mean in them. Not that Cam needed to look into his eyes to know how cruel Mac was. The real cruelty wasn’t that he beat Mama if she didn’t bring in enough money lyingdown for customers. It was that when she did good, he gave her the drugs.

Mac stood right behind Cam, like a big red oak tree. Cam gripped the handle of the butter knife he’d used to spread the mayonnaise on his sandwich. Fear swelled up in his bladder, and Cam thought he might piss his pants. He ran the streets sometimes with the older boys. Painting bridges and alley walls with spray cans and sneaking into the skating rink. The older boys taught him useful things, and they had told him he should never be alone with Mac because he liked boys. Cam wished now he had asked questions because he didn’t really know what that meant, but he didn’t want to seem like a little kid. Right now, he knew that’s exactly what he was.

Mac startled him when he touched the hair hanging almost to his shoulders. He’d told Mama he needed a haircut, but she had waved her hand and said she’d get around to it. Now Mac’s thick fingers had something to grab him by. Cam tried to pull away, but Mac tugged until Cam’s back was pressed right to Mac’s front.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” Mac’s words slithered into the quiet like a black snake. “You gonna make me proud?”

Cam bit his bottom lip, not sure what to say, so he just nodded his head in jerks.

“Good. Good.” Mac ran his fingers down Cam’s neck and inside his Ninja Turtles T-shirt, brushing over his chest.

Cam jerked away and crossed the few feet to the refrigerator, pressing his back to the door.

“Mama’ll be home soon.” The tremble in his voice made him sound like a little boy, but he couldn’t help it.

“Your mama does what I say.” Mac spread his thick lips wide over crooked teeththe color of margarine, his smile like an alligator’s. “You will, too.”

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