I always knew it would end like this; with his heart in my hands and my own half way out of the door. He thought he knew me, knew who I was and wanted to be. But he only knew what I let him find out and it wasn't much. So I wasn't all that shocked that Cameron was standing there, open-mouthed, staring at me in shock. I kept my eyes on his hands though, they always gave him away. They were loose and dangling at his sides, but after a minute they clenched. I guess what I said finally sunk in.
"You can't just fucking leave"
I sighed and decided to wait out his reaction, I already had all my shit packed and my truck was waiting for me.
"I'm going back to my family Cam, I want to go home"
"This is home, I'm your home."
See that's the thing with Cameron, he was possessive and more than a little obsessive. He wanted me, all the time, to himself and only him. He didn't understand why I didn't want him like that and at first I honestly didn't mind his ways. It gave me the attention I had always wanted so desperately, that I never got in my youth. But now, two years later, I was sick of it and him. So when my dad had written and said he wanted me to move back to the family and help out, I didn't need much motive to agree.
"No Cam, my dad needs me. I'll call ok?" I lifted my bag onto my shoulder and headed toward the door.
He reached out as I passed and grabbed my arm, pulling me to him. He took hold of my chin and tugged me closer to him. I tried pull away but he had a good grip and I knew that he wasn't going to just let me leave and I really wasn't in the mood to fight with him.
"Listen to me. You are not leaving me." he said each word clipped and precise
"Don't do this Cam"
He didn't listen and when he started yelling about how much of a slut I was and how he owned me, I snapped. I started screeching right back at him, telling exactly how pathetic he was and how much I hated him. He struck out first, like in all our fights he hit my square in the jaw. After the initial shock of the hit wore off, I lunged at him and we fell back into our old routine. Cameron had hit me the first time into a year of us dating, right after we moved in together. But to his surprise and mine, I hit back and we would fight, breaking things and hurting each other.
That's how we would go, we'd love each other and everything was good and then he'd get jealous or mad and we'd yell and then there would be violence. Broken ribs, and cuts on both our parts, a knife wound on him, and black bruises for me. We were like exposed wires that kept going at each other. Most of the time, if we could move, the make up sex was fantastic, it was rough and fast, I knew that's what he was expecting from me, to get me angry and then fuck me. But not this time, I was finally done. So when I figured this out I stopped fighting and let him kiss me and back me up against the kitchen counter of the crappy apartment.
"See baby? See how good we can be?" he was kissing my neck now and I brought one hand up to his neck and held tight.
With the other hand I grabbed an empty bottle of Jack and smashed into the back of his head. He fell to the floor, holding his head and groaning. I crouched down to his level.
"Stay away Cam, or I'll kill you next time"
With that said I stood, wiped the blood from my hands on my pants and retrieved my bag from the living room. My heavy boots made a ruckus on the gravel of the driveway as I made my way to my truck, my baby - a black Ford F-150 Harley-Davidson. After settling in and checking the damage Cam had done I took off, heading for the highway that would take me home. Because after ten years of being gone I was finally Going Back to Charming.