BRADY
A couple of hours later,after the police are done taking down Camila’s and my statement, we’re at my house. An officer was dispatched to Addison’s parents home to tell them what happened. I spoke with Addison’s dad on the phone on the way here and told him I would be by tomorrow to give them the full story. They were understandably upset and wanted me to come today, but my main concern at the moment is Camila. As we walk up the steps of the porch, I notice Camila stumble, so I scoop her up into my arms and carry her inside, kicking the door closed behind me. The whole time I carry her through the house and up the stairs to my bedroom, she has one arm wrapped around my shoulder with her head buried in my neck. I don’t set her down until I’m in the bathroom, and I only do so then so I can turn on the shower.
She’s been quiet this whole time, and I’ve left her to her silence. I know she’s processing everything that happened. It’s not easy to overcome being attacked by a crazed woman, nearly being shot, and witnessing a person’s death.
I strip out of my clothes then help Camila do the same. Our shower is short, meant only to try and wash away the horrible events of the day.
After I dry and dress Camila in one of my t-shirts, I carry her out of the bathroom and straight to my bed. I feel her eyes on me as I pull out a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt for myself. I put them on and leave the room, coming back a couple minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of Maker’s Mark. I pour us both a glass and sit on the side of the bed then hand her one. Surprisingly, she immediately takes it and downs the whole glass. She coughs as she holds out the empty glass to me, indicating she wants another. She doesn’t gulp this one, just holds it in her hands and stares down at the amber liquid. I take a swallow of mine before I set the glass on the nightstand.
“How are you doing?” I ask quietly.
She looks up from her drink. “Honestly? I think I’m still in shock.”
“I would be surprised if you weren’t.” Noticing and hating the bleariness around her eyes has a ball of stress forming in my stomach. “I am so damn sorry you were put through this.”
She releases one of her hands from the glass and picks up one of mine. “This isn’t your fault, Brady. Please don’t carry that undeserved guilt.”
I lace our fingers together and bring the back of her hand to my mouth, where I press my lips against it. “It is my fault. She did what she did because of her sick obsession with me.”
“That last part may be true, but Addison made her own choices. She’s the only one to blame, not you.” She pauses a moment. “How did you know she was there?”
As much as I hated it, the police separated Camila and I when they questioned us. I understand the reasoning behind it, but I still didn’t like not having her with me. Since everything went down, all I’ve wanted to do is have Camila within touching distance because when she’s not, the memory of almost losing her is nearly overwhelming.
Taking the glass from her and setting it beside mine, I scoot Camilla over enough that I can sit with my back against the headboard. Picking her up, I set her sideways on my lap so we can still see each other’s face.
“A block away from the motel, I realized I left my phone charger, and I came back for it. Just as I was pulling into the parking lot, I saw Addison pushing you inside the room. We’ll never know for sure, but I think she followed me from Silver Falls yesterday and she had been waiting until I left to confront you. The woman was batshit crazy, so I knew she was capable of anything.” I start stroking her thigh as she listens with rapt attention. “There’s been… quite a few times she’s come after me with some form of weapon. I knew if she got you alone, she would hurt you.”
I stop talking for a moment, fighting back the panic at the memory of looking in the motel room through a small crack in the curtain. Addison was pulling out a small hand gun from her pocket and was lifting it to point at Camila.
Camila’s soothing touch on my face pulls me out of the memory. I grab her hand and lay it over my thumping heart.
“As luck would have it, a cop pulled into the parking lot behind me. I flagged him down and quickly explained the situation. We rushed to the room. There was a small crack in the curtain. Just enough for me to see inside. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life when I saw her pointing that gun at you. I knew we needed to distract her, so Officer Nelson grabbed a cleaning lady who was a few doors down and had her knock and announce who she was. The only thing that kept me sane when I walked in that room was because I saw you through the curtain and you didn’t look hurt, plus knowing the gun hadn’t gone off yet.”
Her fingers curl in my shirt, balling into a fist on my chest. “I’m so sorry, Brady.”
I look at her, my brows furrowed. “What are you apologizing for?”
“Because I know this ordeal was hard on you too. I mean, your wife is dead.”
“My wife,” I sneer the word, “was dead to me the moment I slid a ring on her finger.”
She frowns. “I don’t understand. Why in the world would you ever marry her if you felt that way? I figured you loved her at first and it just went downhill.”
Reaching for my glass of Maker’s, I tip it to my lips and toss it back. I hand the glass to Camila and she holds it while I twist the cap off the bottle and pour myself another shot. The only people who know the full story behind my marriage are Addison and myself.
I let the second shot slide down my throat before depositing the glass back on the table. Drawing in a deep breath, I begin my story.
“I don’t know if you remember her because she left when you were in high school and has only been back a few times for visits. Wendy, my sister.”
I see the wheels turning in her head for a moment before she’s slowly nodding. “I think so. She was a couple of grades above me, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “No one knows any of this except for Addison, Wendy, and myself, and for obvious reasons, it needs to stay that way.”
I don’t worry Camila will talk, but for the protection of my sister, I still feel the need to say it.
“Of course.”
“When this happened, I had already left for college and it was the beginning of her senior year in high school. Do you remember the guy who disappeared your sophomore year? Logan Zeers?” It takes her a minute to nod. “Wendy was out one night with some friends at a bonfire in the woods. She walked away from the group to pee when someone came up behind her and attacked her.”