“I’m trying to protect you,” he reminded me, like a broken record.
“You use the words protect and control interchangeably,” I shot back and hurriedly stashed
away a stack of my unmentionables into the top drawer, slamming the drawer shut with more force
than necessary.
“You just need to trust my judgment,” he said, softly. “Believe me, I know better than to try
to control you. You can do whatever you want here. Just think of this place as a long-deserved
rest, like a spa or one of those places girls like you pay a lot of money to be forced to relax.
”
I felt my ears grow hot, fully aware that he had put me in the box that I hated so much. “If I
can’t go anywhere or talk to anyone, then I am in a prison. This is no spa that girls like me
pay a lot of money to go to,” I pointed out to him with added harshness to my voice.
He was surprised by my change in demeanor. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t talk to anyone and
you can walk around as much as you want. I’m just asking you to stay away from Frances.”
“But I can’t leave the grounds, and I have to stay away from Griff too.”
“Who’s Griff?” Cameron’s face was impenetrable.
“Griff … one of your guards … the one who’s been told to stay away from me, or else,” I
reminded him, with as much patience as I could muster.
“You mean the big tall guy with the red hair who keeps looking at you with goofy eyes?” he
mocked, but his expression had grown severe.
“So you’ve met,” I said with torrential sarcasm.
“I didn’t say anything to him. Why would I?”
“Maybe you didn’t but Spider sure did. Spider works for you, doesn’t he?”
“Security is Spider’s job. I don’t mess with his business, and I certainly don’t question
how he manages the watchdogs,” he scoffed. Then he bent forward slightly. “What’s your
interest in this Griff guy anyway?”
“We’re just friends,” I sighed. “Unless you lock me in here, you can’t expect me to
barricade myself in your room when you’re gone all the time.”
Cameron smiled ruefully. “Why not? You could sit here, counting the minutes till I came home
after a hard day’s work and made your wait worthwhile.”
I threw a T-shirt at him. He caught it in midair, tried to fold it, and threw it back onto the
pile.
“Fine. I get it. You need some diversion. But does it have to be with that guy? I mean, can’t
you just hang out with Rocco?”
“I can only watch so much television in one day.” I properly folded the T-shirt and stacked it
on top of the others.
“Well,” he said, grinning full-toothed, “I guess I’ll just have to stay here all the time
and make sure to keep you really busy.”
“That’s quite an undertaking,” I responded, barely managing to catch my breath. And then a
thunderous splash hit the window—and another, and another. We could hear jeering coming from
outside. I didn’t have to get up to know that Rocco, and maybe a few followers, were throwing
water balloons at my bedroom window.
“When do you have to leave next?” I asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“Tomorrow.”
My shoulders drooped a little. “So much for staying here and keeping me busy.”
“I wish I could stay,” he started softly, seemed to recompose and continued in a more
officious tone. “I wish I could do all my work from here, but I can’t. There are some things
that I have to be there in person to do.”
Another water balloon assault started, and Cameron sighed. “We better go down there before they
break a window or kill themselves trying.”
The day was well-wasted playing by the pool with the rest of the family. Cameron laughed at the
appropriate times and had a near-constant smile on his face, but something was different,
particularly when he was near me. He was detached—like someone else was artfully playing the
role of Cameron Hillard—and he definitely never came within more than a few feet from me. This
I noticed more than anything else.
In the evening, after dinner, Cameron, Spider, and Carly removed themselves from the table and
headed out to talk business. Rocco and I headed to our station in front of the TV. But before we
had a chance to settle ourselves in for the evening, Cameron halted at the threshold and called
out to Rocco. “Well, you want to learn the business, don’t you?” he said to Rocco.
Rocco jumped off the couch and the family disappeared through the kitchen doorway.
It was early in the morning when I heard the commotion downstairs. The house was too quickly
emptying itself once again. This time, I let Meatball out so that he—at least—could join
Cameron. Then I went back to bed to pine under the covers.
When the house was quiet again, Meatball came begging to be let back into our shared bedroom. We
had both been left behind, on purpose.
I tried to go back to sleep, and the rolling around under the covers lasted for a good hour. I
gave up, threw on an old T-shirt and shorts, and went outside to let Meatball out and find
diversion.