Jamie McGuire - Beautiful Oblivion

So quick I nearly missed it, Trenton reared back and sent his fist into my father’s nose. Blood exploded as Dad stumbled back, and then fell forward, hitting the ground so hard he bounced. It was quiet and very still for several seconds. Dad didn’t move, he just lay there, facedown.

“Oh, Jesus!” I said, rushing over to him. I was afraid he was dead, not because I’d miss him, but for the trouble Trenton would be in if he’d killed him. I tugged on my father’s shoulder until he rolled over. Blood was streaming from a gash across the bridge of his nose. His head fell to the side. He was unconscious.

“Oh, thank God. He’s alive,” I said. I covered my mouth again, and looked to Trenton. “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry.”

He sat back on his knees in a state of disbelief. “What the fuck just happened?”

I shook my head, and closed my eyes. When my brothers found out about this, it would be war.

OH MY GOD!” MOM SAID WHEN SHE OPENED THE DOOR. “What did you do, Felix? What happened?”

Dad moaned.

She helped us carry him to the couch, and then covered her mouth. She ran to get a pillow and blanket, and then made him comfortable. She hugged me.

“He’s been drinking,” I said.

She pulled away from me, and tried to play off the news with a worried smile. “He doesn’t drink anymore. You know that.”

“Mom,” I said. “Smell him. He’s drunk.”

She looked down at her husband, and touched her mouth with trembling fingers.

“He came to my apartment. He attacked me.” She jerked her head to look at me with wide eyes. “If Trent hadn’t been there, Mom . . . he was set on beating the hell out of me. Trent had to hold him back, and he still came at me.”

Mom looked down at Dad again. “He was angry you didn’t come for lunch. And then Chase started in. Oh, God. This family is falling apart.” She reached down and yanked the pillow out from under Dad’s head. His skull cracked against the arm. She hit him once with the pillow, and then again. “Goddamn you!” she yelled.

I held her arms, and then she dropped the pillow and began to cry.

“Mom? If the boys find out that Trent did this . . . I’m afraid they’ll come after him.”

“I can handle it, babe. Don’t worry about me,” Trenton said, reaching out for me.

I shrugged away from him. “Mom?”

She nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she meant what she said. She looked down at him again, nearly snarling.

“We’d better go,” I said, motioning to Trenton.

“What the hell?” Coby said, stepping out from the dark hallway into the living room. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. His eyes were heavy and tired.

“Coby,” I said, reaching out to him. “Listen to me. It wasn’t Trent’s fault.”

“I heard,” Coby said, frowning. “He really attacked you?”

I nodded. “He’s drunk.”

Coby looked up at Mom. “What are you going to do?”

“What?” she said. “What do you mean?”

“He attacked Camille. He’s a grown fucking man, and he attacked your twenty-two-year-old daughter. What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

“Coby,” I warned.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re going to threaten him to leave, and then stay. Like you always do.”

“I don’t know this time,” Mom said. She looked down at him, watched him for a while, and then hit him with the pillow again. “Stupid!” she said, her voice cracking.

“Coby, please don’t say anything,” I begged. “We don’t need a Maddox-versus-Camlin situation on top of this.”

Coby glared at Trenton, and then nodded at me. “I owe you one.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

Trenton drove us to his dad’s house, pulled into the drive, and left the Smurf running. “Christ, Cami. I still can’t believe I hit your dad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand. The humiliation was almost too much to bear.

“We’re having Thanksgiving at our house this year. I mean, we have it every year, but we’re actually cooking. A real turkey. Dressing. Dessert. The works. You should come.” I broke down, then, and Trenton pulled me into his arms.

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, opening the door. “I have to go to work.” I got out, and Trenton did, too, leaving the driver’s-side door open. He pulled me into his arms to ward off the cold.

“You should call in. Stay here with me and Dad. We’ll watch old westerns. It’ll be the most boring night of your life.”

I shook my head. “I need to work. I need to be busy.”

Trenton nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He cupped each side of my face, kissing my forehead.

I pulled away from him. “You can’t come tonight. Just in case my brothers find out what happened.”

Trenton laughed once. “I’m not afraid of your brothers. Not even all three of them at the same time.”

“Trent, they’re my family. They can be assholes, but they’re all I’ve got. I don’t want them to get hurt any more than I want you to.”

Trenton hugged me, this time squeezing me tight. “They’re not all you’ve got. Not anymore.”

I buried my face in his chest.

He kissed the top of my hair. “Besides, that’s one thing you don’t mess with.”

“What?” I asked, pressing my cheek against his chest.

“Family.”

I swallowed hard, and then rose up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I have to go.” I hopped up into the driver’s side of the Smurf and slammed the door.

Trenton waited for me to roll down the window before he responded. “Fine. I’ll stay home tonight. But I’m callin’ Kody so he can keep an eye on you.”

“Please don’t tell him what happened,” I pleaded.

“I won’t. I know he’ll tell Raegan, and she’ll tell Hank, and then your brothers will find out.”

“Exactly,” I said, appreciating that someone else saw how protective Hank was of me. “See you later.”

“Is it all right if I come by after you get home?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Can you be there when I get home?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be in Dad’s truck.”

Trenton stood in the yard, watching me back out of the driveway. I drove to the Red, and was thankful that it was the busiest Sunday night we’d seen in a while. Freezing temperatures were a deterrent to tattoos, but clearly not to liquor, flirting, and dancing. The girls still wore sleeveless club tanks and dresses, and I shook my head at every woman who walked in shivering. I worked my ass off, slinging beers and mixing cocktails, which was a nice change from a long day at Skin Deep, and then went home. As promised, Trenton was sitting in Jim’s bronze pickup next to my parking spot.

He walked me inside, and helped me clean up the mess we’d left when we carried my dad out to the Jeep. The pieces of the lamp jingled and clattered as we dumped them into the trash can. Trenton propped the end table back onto its broken legs.

“I’ll fix that tomorrow.”

I nodded, and then retreated to my room. Trenton waited in my bed while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. When I crawled under the covers next to him, he pulled me against his bare skin. He had undressed down to his boxers, and had only been in my bed for less than five minutes, but the sheets were already warm. I shivered against him, and he squeezed me tighter.

After a few minutes of silence, Trenton sighed. “I’ve been thinking about dinner tomorrow night. I think we should wait a little while. It just seems like . . . I don’t know. I feel like we should wait.”

I nodded. I didn’t want our first date to be weighed down with thoughts of the earlier events of that day, either.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice low and tired. “Those drawings on the walls. Are they yours?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“They’re good. Why don’t you draw me something?”

“I don’t really do that anymore.”

“You should start. You have my art on your walls,” he said, nodding to a couple of framed drawings. One was a penciled sketch of my hands, one lying on top of the other, my fingers displaying my first tattoo, the other was a charcoal of an emaciated girl holding a skull that I had to have when he’d finished. “I’d like to have some of your originals.”

“Maybe,” I said, settling against the pillow.

Neither of us had much to say after that. Trenton’s breathing evened out, and I fell asleep with my cheek against his chest, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Every night for a week and a half, Jim’s truck was a fixture in various parking spaces outside my apartment. Though I should have been worrying about my brothers coming over to pester me, or even fearing that my father would come back, I had never felt so safe. Once the Intrepid was fixed, Trenton began coming to the Red at close and walking me to my Jeep.

In the early morning hours of Thanksgiving, I was lying with my back to Trenton, and he was running his fingers softly up and down my arm.

I sniffed, and wiped a tear that was getting ready to fall from the tip of my nose. Dad was still living at the house. Those of us who knew about what had happened decided to keep it from the rest of the boys, and to keep the peace at least until after the holidays, I would celebrate elsewhere.

“I’m sorry you’re upset. I wish there were something I could do,” Trenton said.

“I’m just sad for my mom. This is the first Thanksgiving we won’t see each other. She doesn’t think it’s fair that he gets to be there and I don’t.”

“Why doesn’t she make him leave?” Trenton asked.

“She’s thinking about it. But she didn’t want to do that to the boys during the holidays. She’s always tried to do what was best for all of us.”

“This is not what’s best for all of you. It’s a no-win situation. She should just kick his ass out and let you spend Thanksgiving with your family.”

My lip trembled. “The boys will blame me, Trent. She knows what she’s doing.”

“They won’t ask where you are?”

“I haven’t been to family lunch in weeks. Mom figures Dad won’t let them ask too many questions.”

“Come to my house, Cami. Please? My brothers are all coming in.”

“All of them?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s the first time we’ve all been together since Thomas moved away for that job.”

I pulled a tissue from the box on my nightstand, and wiped my nose. “I already volunteered to work the bar. It’s just Kody and me.”

Trenton sighed, but he didn’t push the issue any further.

When the sun rose, Trenton kissed me good-bye and left for home. I slept in for another hour and then forced myself to get up and around, finding Raegan cooking eggs in the kitchen. For half a second, I expected to see Kody, but it was just her, looking lost.

“Are you spending the night at your parents’ tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sorry you’re stuck working.”

“I volunteered.”

“Why? Didn’t your dad freak out?”

“It’s Hank and Jorie’s first Thanksgiving at their house, and yes, Felix did freak out.”

“Aw, that’s nice of you,” she said, letting the scrambled chicken fetuses slide off the skillet onto her plate. “Want some?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

I made a face.

“So,” she said, shoveling a forkful into her mouth. “Trenton has practically moved in.”

“He’s just . . . making sure I’m okay.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, looking at me with disgust.

“Felix might have come over last weekend after I got back from the employee meeting. And he might have tried to attack me.”

Raegan’s fork froze halfway between the plate and her mouth, and her expression morphed from confusion, to shock, to anger. “What?”

“Trenton was here. But I’m not really . . . speaking to Dad, or any of my family, really.”

“What?” she said, getting angrier by the second. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she shrieked.

“Because you overreact. Like this.”

“How exactly am I supposed to react? Felix was in our apartment, attacking you—whatever the fucking fuck that means—and you decide not to tell me? I live here, too!”

I frowned. “You’re right. God, Ray. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about you coming home and him being here.”

She put her palm flat on the counter. “Is Trent staying here tonight?”

I shook my head, and my brows pulled in. “No, he has family coming in.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Ray . . .”