Page 74 of Be Mine Forever

“What the hell happened to your back?” Walsh pointed to the trio of scratches Cam knew were there. He hadn’t seen them, but he’d felt Jo scratching and clawing at him, both of them losing their minds in the steam as they’d gone at each other against the shower wall.

“What can I say?” Cam offered Walsh a shrug and a grin he knew might get him punched if he wasn’t careful. “Your cousin’s a wildcat.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cam walked through the front door, tossing his backpack onto the couch. Relief slumped his shoulders when he realized he was the only one in the apartment. Mama hadn’t come home last night. He’d forgotten how to worry when she didn’t come in. She always popped up after a few days, and he sometimes wondered if it wouldn’t be better if she wasn’t here at all. Only problem was social services would come for him eventually. He’d learned a thing or two, and from what he’d heard about foster care, it wasn’t much better than what he had now. Even fewer guarantees. At least here he knew what to expect. Mama would always be on that pipe. She’d always fuck her customers. She wouldn’t buy groceries.

And she’d still be his mother.

Most of the time he hated Mama now. She knew the nasty things Mac did to him, but she never made him stop. As long as she had that pipe, she didn’t seem to care much what happened to Cam. As much as he wanted to hate Mama one hundred percent, he couldn’t. And Mac knew it. Somehow Mac knew it. He had promised Cam that if he ever ran, he’d kill Mama. Mac might not be a good man, but he kept his promises. The only thing holding Cam here was the life Mama was smoking away.

They’d learned the word for that in English class today.

Irony.

Cam walked over to the refrigerator, knowing what was there but going through the motions anyway. Spoiled milk. He didn’t like to steal, knew it wasn’t right, but therumble in his stomach outtalked his good intentions. He’d be lifting some beef jerky and Pringles from the corner store for dinner. Right was like the hundred-dollar sneakers some of the kids wore to school. One more thing he couldn’t afford.

The door swung open, banging against the wall. Cam didn’t even jump. He was never startled anymore. Some kids at school talked aboutA Nightmare on Elm Street. Freddy Krueger had nothing on the monster at Cam’s door, and he didn’t startle Cam because Cam always knew he was coming.

“Your mama home?” Mac took the few steps from the door to the kitchen.

“No.” Cam hated that his voice still sounded like a little boy’s. He wasn’t a little boy anymore, even though he was still not quite eleven. He wasn’t a man either. He was some pitiful thing in between.

“You gon’ be a good boy for me?” Mac reached out to touch Cam’s hair, but Cam jerked away. Mac just grinned, caressing the buckle of his belt, his rat eyes never leaving Cam’s face.

Cam started for the door, knowing it was no use, but still trying every time. Running every time. He at least had to run, even though he’d never gotten away. He had to believe that someday he would. Mac grabbed the back of Cam’s T-shirt, choking him with the collar. Cam stood still, knowing what was coming but refusing to take off his pants. He fought Mac every time. He’d never won, but the only pride he had left was that he always fought.

“Get on your knees.” Mac’s voice slithered into Cam’s ears.

Cam frowned, confused and a little hopeful. Maybe Mac wasn’t going to do it this time. Maybe he’d just slap him around like he did Mama sometimes. Cam sank to hisknees, closing his eyes and bracing for a punch. The hiss of a zipper jerked Cam’s eyes open. He stumbled back, falling on his backside.

Mac gestured to the space in front of him.

Cam hadn’t eaten much for lunch, but what little was in his belly rose up and watered his mouth with nausea. He scurried toward the door, but Mac grabbed him by the hair, making needles of pain pierce Cam’s scalp.

Cam shook his head, clamping his lips shut, squirming away. Mac could beat him until he was blue and purple; there was no way he was doing this. Just as Cam prepared for the beating of his life, Mac pulled out a knife and pressed it to Cam’s neck, just below his ear. A tiny trickle of blood oozed from the soft spot and into Cam’s collar.

“Cut me,” Cam said, shoving the tremor out of his voice. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, you brave now, huh?” The sound Mac made shouldn’t have been called a laugh it was so dark and scary. “You don’t care if I cut you, but what about your mama?”

Cam’s eyes flew to Mac’s face. He knew. Mac knew that Cam had a weak spot for Mama, even though she didn’t have one for him. Mama was a druggie, but she somehow still managed to be pretty. Even bony as a skeleton and with her caramel skin blotched and ashy, she was pretty. Cam imagined deep cuts across her face or worse, a stab wound in her chest. He swallowed back tears, but not because Mac pressed the knife deeper into his neck. He would get away one day, but it wouldn’t be today.

“Cam!”

Cam met Jo’s eyes in the mirror, slowly coming back to present, blinking away the nightmare of his past.

“Baby, you cut yourself.” Jo leaned up, rubbing her thumb across the scarlet blossoming in the shaving cream on his neck, like a rose in the snow.

Cam dropped the razor, letting it clatter in the sink. His sleep had gotten better, but it was like the past no longer waited for the night. It intruded throughout the day, puncturing the fragile membrane separating the past from the present, dream from reality. Time was permeable, memories passing through with ease to mock his false sense of safety.

“Are you okay?” Jo put down her makeup brush, reaching for a hand towel to wipe the blood and shaving cream from his jaw. “You kind of drifted off there for a second.”

Cam nodded, shivering despite the steam from the recent shower permeating the bathroom.

“Just got lost in thought.” He drew Jo close, burying his nose in the wild, scented cloud of her hair.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the monster had found out. A woman was still Cam’s weakness. It wasn’t Mama anymore, but just like then, Cam would do anything to protect the one he loved.

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