Page 3 of Heart Throb

GRIFFIN

When Camilla was born, I held her in my arms in the hospital while her mother packed her bags in the dead of night and ran for her life. She wasn’t my kid, I was just the unlucky soul who was there when Theresa Miller decided she didn’t want to be a mother. She shoved 7 pound, 4 ounce, Camilla into my arms and said to watch over her. “Her daddy is going to fuck her up the first chance he gets,” Theresa swore, “just like he did to me.” Then she left the hospital against medical advice.

When Anthony returned a few hours later, he found me asleep in a chair holding his baby girl. His girlfriend was nowhere to be found and I didn’t have any answers. I think he started to hate Camilla that day. The only reason he clung to me was because he had to. He made me the godfather of his daughter because he didn’t have any other choice.

I didn’t raise that girl; she didn’t need anyone to raise her. Watching her grow up was like watching the movie Matilda. She was a girl of rare strength and ability. She learned lessons quickly and it only took making a mistake once for her to make the decision that she would never make it again. By the time she was eight, she was taking care of herself and—more often than not—Anthony, too.

He made fun of her a lot. I’ll never know why. She would leave the house in dresses and skirts, wearing sandals, heels, and all manners of shoes that were inappropriate for walking miles into town. It’s not like Anthony ever bought her anything. She got her clothes on donation from ladies at the church and they always thought a proper girl needed to look ladylike. They never gave her tennis shoes or sneakers. “How are you going to ride a bike in that?” He’d ask. Or, “How are you going to run to town in a dress?”

Camilla always held her head high and responded, “I can do anything in a dress and sandals that you can in pants.” And damned if she didn’t prove it. She never came home complaining of blisters. She never returned saying that someone saw her ass because it was a windy day and her skirt blew up. Camilla believed that she could do the same things as everybody else with what she was given and she never let anyone prove her wrong.

As the years passed and Anthony’s business became less about distributing weed and more about cooking and distributing meth, we grew apart. I tried to keep an eye on Camilla, but it was hard. She was in school and I was busy working. I finished drywall and between weekday work and the jobs I took on the side for extra cash, it kept my schedule full.

I was as surprised as anyone to hear that Anthony had been raided. I knew it would happen eventually, but my first thought was for Camilla.

Growing up in a lifestyle like that can lead you to go into the family business. When we were younger, I’d sold weed for Anthony. Living in Colorado, it wasn’t a big deal. But as I got my life together, I started to get away from the selling game as he got into the harder stuff. However, losing that cash was hard for me. I could see how someone like his own daughter might get hooked on the idea of making good money in high school as she prepared for going to college.

But none of the newspapers listed her as a possible suspect. While dealers were being rounded up all over Bourbon Peak, Camilla’s name was kept out of the mix. She was mentioned a few times as being the ringleader’s daughter, but that was about it.

I went over to see her a couple of times before Anthony’s hearing and she was never around. When I went to the jail to see Anthony, he said that sounded like Camilla. “She’s always been a busy bee.” He filled me in on her life or at least the details that he could. He said she was always busy with school up until graduation. When she wasn’t at school, she was at one part-time job or another. “She’s never home, not unless she’s catching a few hours of shut-eye before she’s back out the door.”

I admired her work ethic, but I had to ask if she was involved in his business, even tangentially.

Anthony laughed at me as if I’d just told him the funniest joke in the world. “Camilla? Involved with the drug trade?” He rolled his eyes and slapped the table. “She’d rather saw off her left arm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who turned me in, frankly. I hadn’t seen her in three days before the police showed up, but I suspect that’s because she’s got like twelve jobs. Camilla wants out of here, Griffin. She wants away from me.”

I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t want anything to do with drugs, including behind around someone who frequently cooked and sold them. “When’s your hearing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he demanded that I take care of Camilla. “When I get charged, they’re gonna come for her. I need you to take care of her, okay. I need you to keep an eye out for Camilla.”

The intensity of his words is what made me listen. I would have watched out for her anyway, but he sounded like he was scared and that made me pay attention. “I will, Anthony. Don’t worry.”

“You don’t get to the top without making a few enemies. I’m serious, dude,” Anthony leaned in. “I know I don’t act like it, but that girl is important to me. Keep her safe. Protect her. If you gotta kill someone for her, do it.”

That made a shiver run down my spine. It made me realize that this isn’t all fun and games. “You’ve got my word, Anthony. Whatever I have to do for Camilla, I’m all in.”

Then I showed up at her place just seconds before some crazy drug thug with a bat and I couldn’t believe that Anthony was right. They really were coming for Camilla. This dude had it in his head that he was going to marry Camilla, as if this girl was interested in his pock-marked face from scratching at imaginary bugs he thought were embedded in his skin when he was high.

Camilla arrives wearing a shell of protection that’s made of metal and at least a foot thick. She barely even acknowledges my existence. I’m sure she came from the court just like me. I should have offered her a ride; I don’t know why I didn’t. She slams the door to her bedroom, leaving me standing there in the middle of the living room made messy by drug deals and police officers.

If I were being honest with myself, I could say that I fell in love with Camilla Graves long ago, long before I should have. I fell for her strength and bravery; I coveted them for myself. I watched her grow into a beautiful young woman. I saw her become a stone wall of everything I wanted in a partner.

But I am not honest with myself. I lie to myself like the coward that I am.

I leave the gun on the kitchen counter in case that guy comes back and then I lock the front door behind me. I need to pack some things. I wasn’t kidding about moving in and protecting her. I would give up my life for Camilla. I will be her bodyguard and her protection. Her guardian.

That’s all, I lie to myself. Nothing else.

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