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Cameron should be fine. Despite my reassurance to myself, concern churns in my stomach. I rise from the bed to the windows, but I have no visibility. I curse the wooden slats preventing me from checking up on Cameron. Another crash decides me.
I grab a robe and rush out of the house. The powerful wind makes me fight for every step forward, pushing me back with every third step. The short walk to the guest house takes an eternity while thoughts about my foolishness bombard me. My arrival will probably wake Cameron and embarrass me in the process.
Despite my reasoning, I press onward. My gut hasn’t settled and I won’t be able to rest until I can reassure myself of Cameron’s safety. I turn the bend and nearly fall to my knees when the house comes into view. A branch the size of a small tree has caved in the roof where the bedroom is.
No, this can’t be happening!I’ve been good, I haven’t lied to anyone, and I was finally getting to know Cameron. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen. We’re supposed to have more time together. Yet I can’t deny the truth before me or remember another freak accident that shouldn’t have happened or how it snatched parents away and all the times we should have spent.
Without conscious thought, my feet run toward the damage. Visions of Cameron crushed beneath the weight of the tree and roof cause my heart to freeze before galloping a thousand miles a second. Fire rips through my throat until I’m almost hoarse from screaming Cameron’s name.
Movement from the side of the house draws my attention, kindling a spark of hope. I run in that direction to find Cameron, a backpack on his back and his suitcases in hand, coming from the house. I drop to my knees as cool rain slashes against me. Relief paralyzes me.
When he catches me kneeling on the ground, he rushes to me. “What are you doing outside?” he yells. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here right now?” He grabs me and forces me up, then forces a suitcase handle into my hand. “I saved what I thought was most important in your office, but I probably missed something.”
His words don’t make any sense to my befuddled mind when I’m still recovering from seeing him unharmed. “My office? Why…”
He pulls me toward the main house. “Come on Kenya. We need to get inside now!”
I hold my questions and race behind him. Confusion clouds my mind as unanswered questions hit me one after another. We fight our way back inside the house and I collapse in the entryway as Cameron locks the door behind us.
Our heavy pants are nothing in comparison to the wild torrent outside. As water pools beneath our feet, I clutch my trembling limbs, trying to hold the roiling emotions inside.
My panic and concern pummel the feeble barriers keeping me calm and tears begin to pour down my face. I yell, “Why? Why would you risk your life like that?”
He takes me into my arms, but I fight him unwilling to receive his consolation. One hard slap against his shoulder causes him to wince. He takes advantage of my momentary pause and wraps me in a hug.
“You’re hurt,” I accuse him and push out of his embrace to study his face and body.
“It’s nothing. Now do me a favor and lend me some body heat.” Pain cloud’s Cameron’s eyes as he smiles to deflect my concern.
I reach out to his face where a giant bruise is forming and a faint trail of pink liquid seeps down from beneath his hair, but I can’t stand the idea of touching him and hurting him more than he already is. “You’re lying.” I sniff and wipe my face then grab his hand to drag him upstairs. “You’re bleeding and I bet you’re bruised. You’re lucky you’re hurt right now or else I’d kick you out for lying to me.”
The candlelight flickers as I set it down on the bathroom countertop. “Sit on the toilet and let me look at you.”
“This is unnecessary.”
“Says the man who ran into my shower after I fell on the floor from clumsiness. I swear if you argue with me right now, I’ll forget about being nice and add a few bruises to your collection.” I grab the first aid kit then face him with a frown.
Immediate regret fills me now that I have a better look at him and the massive bruising covering half of his face. I brush back his hair to expose the gash on his forehead. Words abandon me while I disinfect and apply ointment.
“I promise that I’m fine.” Cameron takes my shaky hands in his. “So please, stop crying and look at me.”
“I’m not crying.”
“Who’s lying now?”
“I’m not. I don’t lie. So when I say I’m not crying I’m no—”
Cameron swipes under my eye. His fingertips come away wet.
“I…”
“You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. Seeing the evidence so clearly unlocks my silence and I begin to sob incoherent sounds.
“Alright, you need to sit this out. I’ll look after the rest.” He stands and rests his hands on my shoulder to spin me around.
“No!” I object, facing him again. “Just give me ten more tears, then I’ll be fine.”
