Page 23 of In You

Camilla's A Healer

Tamryn

I take another swallow of water, eyeing the dishes, wishing I had full use of my hands when it hits me that the water has been running for a while, but Caleb hasn't come up yet. Frowning, I walk to the basement door and poke my head through.

"Caleb," I call, looking down the dark steps. "Caleb, are you okay?"

I hesitate as a tingle of fear shivers down my spine, because I haven't been in a basement since…before…

I blink hard, shaking my head. "Don't be afraid," I say, taking a deep breath before stepping onto the first step.

I flick the switch, quickly realizing the light above the stairs isn't working.

I roll my lips and then take four more stairs before fear paralyzes me in place.

My knees knock together as I begin to shake, my eyes flickering around as I bend at the waist, holding the handrail for balance, and try to see deeper into the basement from halfway up the stairs.

"Caleb!" I whisper futilely. A little fission of anger swells inside me that he's making me do this knowing I'm scared.

Actually, that's wrong, he doesn't know I'm scared. He doesn't know.

Get a grip, Camilla, I think. He could be hurt, and you're over here lollygagging around while he might be bleeding to death on the ground from a head wound.

"Shut up," I whisper, clenching my fist.

Seeing Tink go down the stairs ahead of me, I take one last look towards the light at the top of the stairs and take a deep breath.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit," I curse to myself, racing down the stairs before I lose my nerve and it's only when I get to the bottom does it hit me just how dangerous that is because I'm still in my cast. I would have been fucked had I slipped. Probably would have broken my neck.

At the right of the stairs is a room with a light on, and the door is half-ajar.

I head towards it. "Uhm, Caleb, are you okay…

" My worlds trail off as I push it open the rest of the way and see him standing with his back to the door, his palms planted on the work table with his head lowered, and he's crying.

My lips twist as my eyes travel lower. On the worktop, there's the very corner of what looks to be a photo album just beyond his torso next to his left hand.

I don’t know what’s going on with him, but my heart aches for whatever pain makes a man cry like this. My eyes widen and I take a hesitant step forward. "Caleb?" I call softly. "What's wrong?"

He flinches, not turning to face me. He brings a hand up to scrub down his face. "Oh, hey. Nothing. Go ahead and go back upstairs.

"But you're crying."

"I know," he bites out. "I get it. It's not very manly."

I nibble my lip, inching closer. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He turns to face me and then I really panic at the look in his eyes. He's not just crying, he's suffering.

"Oh no," I whimper, smoothing my good hand lightly over his forearm and bouncing anxiously on my toes. "Oh, Caleb, what's the matter? Did I say something upstairs that make you-"

A rough sound leaves him, and he folds his arms and scrubs a hand harshly across his jaw. He clears his throat hard and then gives me a look I can't decipher. The raw pain in them feels like mine. I huddle my hand to my chest and then take another step into him, leaning my head into his chest.

This hard, sharp man so outwardly broken makes my heart cry for him.

I wince as he moves his hand out from under us and then places it on the back of my head. My eyes flutter shut as the heaviness helps ground me.

"It's hard for me to talk about mothers," he says quietly. I pull my head back keeping my fist trapped between us. His throat works hard on a swallow and he looks to the side, a muscle clenching in his jaw. "Because I don't have one."

"Oh." My brows scrunch together. "I'm…I'm sorry, Caleb. I didn't know."

He nods once. "Yeah. I know you didn’t, sweetheart."

I rub my hands in light soothing circles. "What happened to her?"

Keeping his face averted, he flushes. "I killed her."

My eyes widen as my heart skips a beat, suddenly remembering that though he's my savior, he is a killer. "Well…well…"I stammer, beginning to tremble. Utterly aware I'm in a dingy basement with him after I swore I'd never go into one ever again after what the Captor did to me.

"She….she did stuff to me."

Instead of skipping a beat, my heart decides to turn a nauseating somersault in my chest. There's a few seconds of awkward silence where he stays looking off to the side, and I realize he's stuck in some sort of memory. A flashback maybe.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, moving my head to the side to try and get his attention.

It works. His dark eyes slide to mine, and I bring my hand up to place it over the one on my hair.

My heart bangs heavily, and my eyes flicker between his as I wet my lips, feeling anxious because I want him to want to confide in me.

"You can tell me. You can talk to me instead of coming down here and crying.

You saw what you saved me from. You know how the Captor used to beat me. Right?"

His eyes turn wary, and I dare to press.

"You sit with me when I have my nightmares. What do I look like turning my back on your pain when you need me too?" I ask, immediately flinching and averting my eyes in shame. That was way too forward. "I mean… not to say you need me-"

"No," he says fast, bringing his other hand to my chin and tilting my head back to his. "No, sweetheart! I want you here. Thank you…thank you for saying that."

His eyes are warm pools of honey brown as they stare down at me, and my nails dig slightly into the skin of his arms as I sway into him.

"You're welcome," I whisper. I feel something shift inside me, something strong that's holding me up, and it's not Caleb, either.

Those sharp eyes bore into mine, and I get the feeling he's searching for something.

So I try. I try to give him something to latch onto.

"You can tell me about it, you know. I'll understand. "

I feel sick saying those words, but my mind leaves my situation and drifts to Caleb. If he killed his mom, there's a story there that I desperately need to know.

My heart tugs for him. Exactly thirty-eight excruciatingly long heart beats that he spends staring into my eyes.

That's how long he makes me wait. That's how long it takes for him to be comfortable to begin to talk.

I didn't even know I could hold a man's eye contact this long without wanting to cry.

I mean, I kinda want to cry for him, because this is rough.

His eyes, so brooding and intense, become even more so when he begins to speak. "Did I ever tell you why I was at the Captor's house, Camilla?"

I frown slightly, shaking my head. "No, I don't think so.

" My heart begins to beat wildly at the mention of him.

I don't want to think about him. Caleb saved me, I don't ever have to talk about him ever again.

My face perspires lightly, and I bite my lip, fighting to turn and make a run back upstairs and to Tink. But his next words bowl me over.

"It's because he raped an underaged girl, and the girl's father hired me to kill him. And I was also promised that there'd be a little girl there for me. That's what I do, Camilla, I wipe the earth free of pedophiles. I'm a gun for hire, but only for the ones who deserve it."

I think my world draws to a dead stop.

"What?" I say incredulously. "I never, ever saw him- he never brought anyone over the house…"

My words trail off as something else clicks into place. And if Caleb's racing heart is any indication, he sees it.

"Wait, sooo you mean when your mom did stuff to you, you mean…y-you mean…" My hand flies up to cover my mouth.

His face tightens and he shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"Yeah," he says softly, his eyes falling from mine. "I mean."

My chin quivers, and my face screws up with hurt for him. Because to be honest, it looks like what she did could have happened just yesterday by the look in his eyes. He's not over it. I sniff, and bring my good arm up to wrap around his neck, standing up on my tiptoes.

"I'm so sorry," I cry, burying my face into his neck when he leans down to accommodate our size.

He makes a rough sound in his throat and then winds his arms around me, drawing me almost off my feet in a hug so soothing that I think it heals a little bit of me. I only hope it heals a little of him, too.

"Me too," he rasps quietly. "Me too, baby."