Moose was awakened by the sound of his phone nosily vibrating. He groaned drowsily, simultaneously rubbed his eyes, already knowing whose name was drawn on the caller ID. He grabbed for the phone, missing it a few times, since the slits of his eyes were still slightly jarred. He abandoned it completely, only for the damn thing to sound loudly, the vibrations reverberating, his doom imminent. He lowly grumbled. Finally, he claimed the small device, and he held it against his ear. "Hello," he softly answered, extracting himself, so he wouldn't disturb his sleeping companion with this conversation.

Chase was notified of the incident involving his son, and he drove, Andie with him, to the school with no other prompts needed. First, he headed to the on campus residence, and he met with Eddy, which startled him completely. He believed he failed as a parent because his son horrendously attacked someone. Then, Camille's name was tossed in. He became vastly upset over that tidbit. From what he remembered, he warned his only child to stay away from her, and, now, his son was dealing with the consequences. Before Eddy and his girlfriend left with the ambulance, the two came to an unwritten agreement on how to casually sweep this under the rug—only for his sons' sake though.

Camille, on the other hand, was a different story.

Then, he had to step into his late wife's sequestered studio, where the on campus police were.

Honestly, he hadn't stepped in there, since his wife's passing. The place was strange, odd, and it hurt him immensely to be inside. He's avoided that place like the plague for several reasons. One of them being, it was his wife's pride and joy. Right next to their son, of course. He assessed the damage personally, and there looked to be about $7,000 worth. Not like that amount dented his wallet, but his intention was to preserve the place just like his wife had last laid 50 shades of green eyes on it. That all changed when his son became reminiscent to a turbulent hurricane.

His final stop was the security office at school. He was less than pleased over the fact the tape was missing, and he was determined to find who was responsible. Hypothetically, the person to thieve the tape obviously had a great vendetta against his son, and, or Camille.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU," growled his dad over the line, practically causing Moose to become deaf, but definitely more alert.

"Away," he tightly replied, as he walked to the living room. Stepping on fire sounded better than speaking to his dad truthfully.

"That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Yup." He was short, contrite, and pissed out of his mind over his father's choice to pay off Eddy too.

"You better get your ass back to this home, as soon as possible. You know how much I had to give Eddy to not press charges?! It wasn't cheap!"

"No one told you, you had to," Moose retorted furiously, "that fucking douche doesn't deserve your money! He deserves to rot in hell over what he did to Camille." He paced the floor like a mad man. "I can't believe you have disregarded what she went through!"

"Camille," his dad maliciously repeated with an eye roll. "She's bad news!"

His father was absolutely clueless. "If anything, she's helping me. You are the one that needs to open your eyes and fire Eddy. He was about to..." He still couldn't force himself to say it. "... he's a filthy pedophile that needs his dick chopped off. I swear to God, if he ever lays one finger on her again I will..." He looked up to see Camille standing there with a thick blanket encompassing her body. He regretfully looked at her and tamed his pent up rage the best he could.

"ROBERT ALEXANDER COLLINS," Chase admonished heatedly. He cleared his throat, not wanting to sound like his son—ever. "If you feel that strongly, then you will have your day in court!"

"Wha-what," Moose held the phone tighter, his mind wrapping around what his dad was insinuating. "Court, what the fuck do you mean court!?"

Camille turned ghost white over the word. That didn't sound too good at all. She approached him, took a seat at the couch, her fingers toppling over and over like a new dance craze. She intently eavesdropped, gnawing at her lip, as an agitated quip. Albeit her ear, she almost drowned herself in the blanket as a coping mechanism too.

"Yes, Eddy is charging Camille with putting him in a precarious situation. Because this happened on campus grounds, this will be handled in a student court," he informed, while hearing his son's brunt grumblings. He intentionally spoke over them, "a jury, comprised of prestigious board members, will take a vote to decide whether or not she's guilty."

"Do you know how fucking stupid that sounds," he sneered, his pitch becoming heavier, his voice raising an octave, as he wondered how many swigs of rum his dad drunk when Eddy manipulated him. He thought the worst of his dad, even going as far as to believe he took the tape out of the security office! "He almost does it to her, and he wants to prove that she's guilty, like she's some harlot?"

"Nice word."

"This is not the time for joking," he aggravatingly reprimanded. He wasn't going to let Eddy get away with his. "The next thing I'm going to hear is Camille was prostituting herself to that asshole," he mocked derisively over the preposterous idea. His eyes cascaded to Camille, and he already knew she was chucked into a frantic state.

This idea wasn't favorable to him either, but Eddy claimed he wanted to prove his innocence—that he was attacked for no reason. Chase thought this could be settled at a mock trial, so unbiased people could make the appropriate ruling. "Since we don't have any classes that cater to the law, we will have this trial at Baltimore City Community College," he further added.

"Luke's college," he named, still thinking this sounded too incomprehensible. He thought about this some more though and arrived at the conclusion this was actually going to work in his favor. After all, his best friend was bound to be there with a camera in hand, and he wanted a personal copy of Eddy's defeat. That would surely be sweet. "Alright, tell that asshole to lawyer up then because he will get his day in student court."

She revealed herself, her eyes enlarged to the size of saucers, and she mouthed 'student court' in blatant shock, and he bobbed his head up and down eagerly. He assured he had this handled, and for her to trust him.

"Who is going to defend Camille, huh? You are not using your trust fund to hire a lawyer for her. You can't be that wrapped around her finger," he accused crudely, thinking his son went off the deep end. He wiped his face miserably. His son was so passionate when it came to this Camille girl, but not him, the person that gave him half his life. When his son didn't say anything, he posed the query once more. "Do you hear me!? You are not going to use your trust fund!"

Moose vindictively smirked, his mouth curled into a smile, while his brain worked its magic. "Loud and clear, Pops." Before hanging up the phone, he dropped the bombshell. "To answer your first question, me." He hung up the phone, quickly turning it off to prevent any more interruptions.

Camille stood, puzzled, worried, and slightly afraid for what was to come. For the umpteenth time, her lip trembled, her eyes clouded distraughtly, and she swore she was about to collapse, right then and there. How much more could she and Moose go through? She wasn't sure if it was because he entered her life or vice versa. She apologized genuinely. "I'm so sorry, you have to go through this." She looked up at him.

He embraced her tightly, his head resting on top of hers. "It's not your fault. Don't worry, we'll get through this... together," he promised.

"Are you sure," she asked earnestly, her eyes brimming with the telling, extra moisture.

"Positive."

After that, they returned to bed.

Xxxxx

For the past two days, Moose and Camille confined themselves in the Vault. The two only left to get groceries, clothes, or anything else to retain some normalcy in their life, following the most recent events. Still incredibly frightened because of her ordeal with Eddy, she was a bit skittish when encountering strangers, particularly of the ones with XX chromosomes. Quickly, though, she warmed up to Jason and Luke, which made rubbed Moose the right way.

The trial was five days away. Chase decreed both parties should have one week to prepare.

As of right now, Moose was sleeping away.

After an hour of cleaning up the place and adding a feminine touch here and there, Camille returned back to bed. Before disturbing him, she crouched lowly, almost getting on her knees and intently watched him. Being perfectly honest, he was so attentive, making sure she was comfortable and not overstepping boundaries in any such way. He really protected her. She hadn't felt that, in God knows how long. Most probably when her dad, mom and brother were still alive.

She thought this was a dream. What he's done for her already, it couldn't compare to the few people she knew for years. The beginning to their story was quite unconventional, but it was theirs. She laughed sweetly over it and ruffled his hair.

Moose softly groaned. Turning his body sideways, he ended up facing Camille. He opened his eyes, yawning tiredly at her, a content smile forming. "You're welcome," he acknowledged, rolling back to sleep.

She confusingly stared at him, her jaw dropping slightly.

"Chameleon, don't question it," he concluded swiftly. "Are you coming to bed or not?"

Nodding, she climbed in, turning her body to face him directly. Her hands went under her ear.

He slung his arm behind her, wounding her body more intimately. They had several things to discuss, so he decided it was time to really get the ball rolling. His eyes fluttered, eventually unbuckling, and he gazed. "So, how are you feeling," he questioned, genuinely concerned over her welfare.

"Overwhelmed," she answered pensively. The smile she confidently held, down turned sheepishly. "There's plenty going on. I still can't get over... and with this talk about a trial... I'm really scared."

"You shouldn't be," he relayed positively, while musing. "When it goes down, you don't have anything to worry about. Luke, Jase, and I will be there to support you all the way."

Other than his favorite pastime, dance, he was predicted he was going to become utterly serious about this matter.

This 'court case' has been on his mind, since volunteering to defend her. Last night, he restlessly slept, which was why he was deeply napping during lunch time. Truth be told, he was worried, marginally, deathly scared he wasn't going to defend her like notable attorneys. Yet, he still upheld the notion he was going to put up a decent fight by diligently studying, acquiring the mindset of an attorney and proving her innocent. Unbounded determination was within his frame.

The Asshole needed to pay. He deserved everything vindictively coming at him, in Moose's opinion. Then, after the trial was over, him and Camille could continue with no other hindrances. Subsequently, that meant their relationship would hit another milestone.

"I really need to start gathering evidence," he began, his mind working into overdrive, "I need to go back to the school, look around for anything that could've been missed, I need to interview people...," He looked at her, when she withdrew hastily. "What?"

"I don't think I can go back to campus... ever," she confessed, the severity of the trauma she endured was still engrossed on her features.

He attempted to lighten up the situation, gently joking with her. "Great, then I can finally get a break from you," he quipped lightheartedly.

"You're such an ass," she hissed in distress, truly offended by the statement. She sat upright, her hands flew to her hips gravely, signaling she wasn't playing. She already felt horrible over what she's been through, and that he's came along for such a bumpy ride. The second fact, he's been waiting on her hand and foot made her feel even worse. Thirdly, to hear that he wanted a break from her, that literally dismantled her heart, making her think he was sick of her. Like she was a defenseless, nagging Nancy, and that's not what she meant to do.

Ever.

He mirrored her position."Hey, I was just joking," he obnoxiously sang, although she was dangerously serious. Suddenly feeling inconsiderate of her feelings, he bowed his head sadly. He was, in no means, attempting to neglect the trouble surrounding her.

Their sentiments obviously differed. She whipped the covers off of her and waltzed out of the bed, shaking her head, inaudibly yelling in exasperation.

"Fuck," he muttered, taking off immediately. He caught up to her, in the middle of the living room, just a few feet shy of the 'Boom Room', and he tugged at her arm. The hope to bring her back to him adamantly set on his mind. She resisted, much to his chagrin, but he remained calm and pulled her to come back to him. He held her from behind, her form battling his weakly, elbowed blows towards his midsection, shouting for him to get away, but they were under much heartbreaking. "Camille."

"No, Moose, I really want to be alone," she ultimately shoved him off and left.

Moose frustratingly sighed. Maybe, he crossed the line too soon. Last night, she just about slept through the night, but he was actually in the bed with her. This event was still eating at her. Since he didn't want to make her even more upset, he thought they needed a break. He held his phone, barely pressing the button to phone either Luke or Jason, so they could stay with her, but he didn't want her to be tossed into a deeper panic-stricken state. That wouldn't be fair to her. He trailed, creeping behind, and he found her climbing a ladder. His brows wrinkled inwardly.

Escalating up the ladder, he eventually arrived at the rooftop and came to realized he was not dressed to accommodate the weather. As he exhaled, he saw little clouds of air exit. His teeth clanked, while he rubbed his not so toned, but skinned, arms crazily. He watched her stop, just by the edge of the building. "Fuck," he muttered irrationally, his nerves whipped into a frenzy, and he lunged for her. "Camille!"

"Huh", she yelped, caught off guard, undulating, her footing altering suddenly, her almost tipping over. Her stomach jumped to her throat, as she almost tumbled off the roof, but Moose easily caught her. As he ushered her away, she inquisitively gazed at him, her depressing emotions arrived. If she hadn't done enough of this already, she heavily cried, grasping him tightly. She didn't know exactly what she was thinking either.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized again, softly stroking her hair. For the few minutes, the two stayed like this, his soulful warmth enveloping her. "Let's get inside." He opened the door, and he took the command. He descended down the steps, purposefully watching her, as she came down too. He escorted her to the kitchen, and he began to make her a cup of green tea, so she could warm up. As he prepared her drink, he didn't speak. Once finished, he gave her the cup, went to grab her a blanket and placed it on her. He also went to grab his jacket and zipped it up.

She silently watched him, amazed by his attentiveness. It was like the last twenty minutes was a figment of her imagination. Ten minutes later, she finally spoke. "I-I overreacted," she began, fiddling with her cup's handle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a burden."

He shook his head, accepting the blame. Once more he gently twirled her locks, as he stood by her. "I was insensitive to your feelings. That wasn't right," he admitted. He became serious and got them back on track. "If the tape isn't found, I need you to tell me everything, don't leave a single," he sighed, "don't leave a single detail out, basically the who-what-when-where-and why. It's important."

She nervously bit her lip. "But, I don't want to relive any of that," she sadly said.

"I know you don't, but Chameleon, it's important to your case," which he still thought was absurd, but was compelled to handle it accordingly. "First thing first, has anyone witnessed him coming on to you?"

She eagerly nodded, her gestures rapidly forming.

"Who," he questioned curiously.

"Sean," she proudly beamed, quickly realizing she's been such a bad best friend. They hadn't spoken in three days. "We need to get Sean on board."

"I-I-I don't know," he stumbled his words, his head titling in disagreement. He unvoiced his apology for not giving an explanation as to why and continued. "Is there someone else? What about your aunt?"

She shook her head furiously. "He's the only one that's seen, heard me complain... You have to work with him on this," she stressed adamantly.

He studiously stared at her, and she was dead serious about this. There was a possibility he was going to regret teaming up with Sean, but there was no other choice. From the looks and sounds of it, her Aunt wouldn't comply either. "Alright, so let's talk to Sean then."

"Let's go to his house," she replied, borderline threatening him with one look. He didn't want to. "You want to defend me properly, right?" He slowly nodded. "Then, you need him."

"He's known you the longest," he figured, agreeing. "Hey, I know you're still afraid, and it's okay. This unfortunately happens to a lot of girls, and Chameleon..."

"Yeah," she replied, but she wanted to say something to him. "Look, when I left..."

He shushed her. "I just wanted to tell you," he helped her out of the chair, and she stood erect, "... I don't want to ever hurt you... again. I'm not the same guy you met, and it's because of you."

She watched, the compassion illuminating his eyes, and she became extremely grateful. She launched her lithe body into his arms, her hands wrapping around his neck lovingly, and, while giving some decent effort, she actually smiled.

He leaned his forehead against hers. The most content he's been in awhile. "Thank you for giving me direction," he recognized warmly, as he kissed her forehead.

"You're very welcome, Robert," she kissed his cheek.

Xxxxx

Sean hurriedly zipped down the stairs of his house, once he got the text from Camille she was on his front porch. He thoroughly checked his hair, clothes and made sure his breath was minty fresh. In addition, he was calm, not wanting to hint he was on the verge of being expelled. Since there were rumors running rampantly about her, he amicably yet stupidly boxed the people that were spewing them.

He excitedly opened the door, but his energy diminished when she saw she wasn't alone.

It was bad enough he felt like he was losing his best friend, and to see her with someone else—the rich, womanizing, asshole of MSA, it almost punctured his heart. He was boiling mad over this development. "Cam," he greeted, his eyes heatedly boring holes into Moose. Then, his undivided attention was granted to her. "How are you?! I've heard what's happened, went to see you, but Claire said you don't live there anymore. I even tried calling to see if you're okay, but all I get is your voicemail. Do you need more minutes or something? Cam, speak, where you been?!" His words were so rushed they became jumbled. He was just so happy to know she was safe. "Man, you don't..." He became confused soon after.

Camille intuitively stepped away from him. "I, uh...," she defensively held her hands up, when Sean took another step. Expectantly, she urged Moose, beckoning his help, to come forth.

Moose, for a little, stalled. There was anger emanating from Sean, and he wasn't going to fight Sean, rhythmically or not, on his property. He headed towards them, securely standing by her side. He mustered the calmest voice possible. "She," he cleared his throat, "we need your help."

Compounded anger drowned Sean's inhibitions, and he charged at Moose, his hands grabbing at the thinner person's shirt collar. He menacingly twisted the fabric, the urge to take this act a step father. "What the fuck did you to her," he asked crudely.

"What," Moose incredulously questioned, the need to breath prevalent, his body thrashing about, so he could break free. He managed to do so. He ironed his shirt with his hands, wondering who let the lunatic out of the loony bin. "Camille, I can't do this. He's going crazy for no reason," he began the trek to his car, where it was safe.

She chased after him, tugging at his arm urgently. "Sean and you need to come to an understanding," she reasoned.

Moose exhaled in aggravation. "You saw him, he tried to kill me just now!" Though his comment was rather dramatic, it was legitimate.

"I'll talk to him," she promised, and she went back to Sean. Like a horrible case of 'monkey in the middle', she willingly participated. Both needed to stop acting immature and work together. "Sean, do you have any idea what I went through? Like everything."

"No, no," he mildly stuttered, his feelings getting in the way of actually having a tame conversation with the person in front of him. He looked between Camille and Moose. The pain she endured was obviously painted on her eyes. That didn't change his mind though. His brown eyes darkened, concentrating on Moose."You technically kidnapped her! You took her somewhere else, instead of a more familiar place, like here! But no, you took her for yourself and did God knows what," he accusingly exclaimed. He was being completely illogical, at the moment.

"Sean," she admonished. "Please, listen."

"Sean," Papi Ricardo silenced his grandson gravely. He stood at the front door, his hands wrapping in front of his chest, while his demeanor was authoritative. He watched, as Camille's 120 pound body aligned itself with a skinny man with a mop for hair. His grandson may have feelings for Camille, but it was apparent hers laid with someone else. "Todo el mundo dentro de la casa , ahora (Everyone inside the house, now)!"

Kicking the ground frustratingly, Sean respected his elders and did as he was told. He turned back to the couple. "Come on," he thumbed for them to enter his house. Reluctant for one to enter.

Mami Maria, Papi Ricardo's dutiful wife and Sean's loving grandmother, waited for them. Her hand flew to her mouth, at one look at Camille. "Ay dos mio," she exclaimed, her voice filled with sorrow. She immediately went to embrace her, whispered comfortingly, and parted from her. She expressed her worry to her husband and grandson. "Ser amable con ella, es importante (Be gentle with her, it's important)," she ordered, and, she shuffled her feet to head back upstairs, reciting a prayer on Camille's behalf.

"Did you understand," Camille wondered. Being Sean's friend and in his house, she's picked up on the Spanish lingo.

He shook his head. "Not all of it, but I got it," he assured her. She went to him, and he placed his arm around her.

Fire flared in Sean's envious eyes over the way she covered his arm. He broke away when his grandpa started speaking to him.

"Why don't we all sit," Papi Ricardo's voice boomed, as he ushered Sean and the newest occupants inside the kitchen. He gathered drinks for everyone, already assuming this talk would be hostile. When there's two men vying for the heart of one woman, there's bound to be turmoil. He took on the role of mediator. "Your name, son," he urged the stranger, "ah, Alce (Moose)," he smiled nicely, "now, what exactly is going on with Camille, the Bonita (Beautiful)?"

He went into the harrowing details of what he saw at the studio that night. The words unraveling from his mouth combined for a vivid depiction. For Camille, some parts were hard to stomach, Papi looked extremely uneasy over the facts. A man of his age, he's thought he heard and been through it all, but for what happened to Bonita, it was hard to grasp. As for Sean, he began to harden over it and incredulously looked at Moose.

"And you didn't call the cops on that pussy, Eddy," he impulsively questioned in the middle of Moose talking.

"Look," Moose leaned in, not letting go of Camille, who was slightly trembling over the memories, "after almost beating the shit out of him, the first thing that came to mind was getting Camille out of there and somewhere safe. We got to her aunt's, and she was on some good stuff, which prolonged calling the cops, and then I got arrested."

"Why did you get arrested," Papi Ricardo queried, fascinated. Once he was told, he disagreed with the law. "So, now, what's next?"

"Court... I'm going to represent her. Somehow, Eddy turned the story on her," Moose replied honestly, and then, he looked at Sean. "Your assistance is much appreciated."

Sean shook his head instantly. "I know her better; I should be the one to represent her," he grumbled like a child, his behavior syncing too.

"It's not about who knows her better," Moose denied strongly, a new passion coming to life, "... it's about how she's represented. I'm going to do my best, but I need more background information, evidence, all the stuff pointing fingers, red flags, anything that goes against him." He looked down at Cam, and he nodded he was alright. "Can we put our differences aside and work cohesively for her sake?" A glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes.

"Si ella es tan importante para usted, se le dará la respuesta correcta y dejar a un lado su orgullo (If she's that important to you, you will give the right response and put your pride aside)," Papi Ricardo wisely directed his grandson. His pitch was careful, since he didn't want to elicit his grandson's livid emotions.

"Yeah," Sean agreed, though the execution was a bit weak. "Where do we start?"

"Now," Moose replied, a deep breath of relief released. "We need that tape."

"What tape," Sean asked, interested, his body coming in.

"There's a video camera at the place we were at, and somehow it got taken," Camille answered, her voice uneven because of the topic. She mildly shook over it but fought through. "They've been looking for it, but I don't know if it's going to magically reappear."

Camille's very best friend in the whole entire world appointed himself to do track down the tape. "I'll find a way to get the video, you defend Camille right, and we'll prove her innocent—together," he updated, certainty peppered in his voice, while his brain began to exert itself. "Cam, everything's going to be okay."

"So, together," Moose stood, his hand up, as a peace offering.

Papi Ricardo and Camille questioningly gazed at them. Their hearts and bodies elatedly jumped at the two clasping hands cordially with one another. After they came to an understanding, Moose and Camille headed out of there.

Their next stop, Moose's house.

Xxxxx

His home's barricading, black gates were sternly staring at him, intimidatingly prodding him to turn around right away, so he wouldn't be confronted by his overbearing, overreacting dad. Yet, he was tired of spending money on clothes to last him until the trial. He pressed the button that granted him access, and he drove up the winding road. He knew Camille was afraid of his dad because of what's been done, and he didn't blame her.

"I need clothes," he feebly explained, parking the car just outside of the doors rather than the garage. "I'll be right back."

She deathly squeezed his hand, alerting him not to go. "How long?" She earnestly met his chocolate brown pools with her auburn ones.

"It shouldn't be for long," he promised. He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly. Before leaving, his foot touching pavement, his body facing her, he asked another inquiry. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Are you crazy," she whipped her head up so fast. "I'll wait," she swore. Another light kiss was administered, this time, to her temple, and she smiled at it.

He fully exited his car, unlocked the front door, and he ran up to his room. He grabbed one of his large suitcases, and he began to stuff clothes, shoes, accessories, cologne, and whatever else he needed. The most important item he grabbed was his mom's picture. He held that, as he maneuvered himself out of his room. He descended down the stairs in a huff, and he was almost at the door, but he heard the the obvious tapping sounds of his dad's Ralph Lauren dress shoes. He warily turned.

"Long time no see," Chase sternly reprimanded his son, as he looked at the various belongings. "Leaving again?"

"Yeah, Camille's in the car, and I-"

Chase irately interjected. "That name... didn't I tell you to stay away from her? Didn't I tell you she was trouble, yet you got involved with her personal matters, and you were almost sent to jail. I still can't get what you did to Eddy out my head!" He looked at his son, alleging this was some mistake, fluke, however else it could be worded. "You are a Collins, and as a Collins, you do not lay your hand on someone!" His hands were furiously connected to his hips.

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"I CAN, I AM YOUR DAD!"

"Since when," Moose asked seriously, curtly laughing in incredulity over the statement, while he placed his items on the floor. "After mom died, you practically passed me off to Nona and Nonno, and I'm sure if mom's parents were still alive you would practically ship me to them too!" He spoke about both sets of grandparents. "You were always busy!"

"I worked hard to make sure you had a stable home life, money in your bank account, and everything you needed. My mom and dad were there for you; I placed you in good hands."

"I love Nona and Nonno," he declared his adoration and reverence for his grandparents. "If they were still in the US, I would gladly live with them, but they're in Italy. I'm stuck with you," he spitefully added.

"Are you punishing me for them living in Italy or for making sure you had everything you ever wanted," he argued, further increasing Moose's

"Are you kidding me," his mouth gaped at his dad in disbelief, "it's not only that, you're fucking the help too," he sneered, fury filling him up, and he unleashed what's been on his mind. "For once, can you open your fucking eyes and see what you've done?! You have practically disgraced mom's school by getting it into financial ruin, you made mom into a joke when you began to sneak around with Andie, and I know it was even before she passed," again he bitterly chuckled. "You are a terrible dad. And the one time I meet a girl worth fighting for, you make her out to be the bad person, when we all know that piece of shit is!"

Chase watched, stunned into silence over his son's brutal words.

"Yes, I'm punishing you," he agreed in satisfaction, inflicting pain vocally, "it's what you've done to me for all these years." He recollected his stuff, opened the door and slammed it. He placed every single item he had into his trunk, went to his door, hopped in the car, started it, and revved as loudly as he could. Dogs from neighboring houses crooned, howled and growled in zoomed out of there, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke behind.

Chase ran out of this house with the intentions to catch up to his son, but he was too late. His son was already on the city streets and away from him.

Once he was in very far off in distance from his dad, Moose slowed his ca incredibly. He sensed his frazzled companion, and he deeply said his sorry. "I'm sorry for scaring you," his mind was on the road, unable to see what visage came this time around. He finally explained the tumultuous relationship he had with his dad to her.

Camille observantly listened to him bare his soul. To calm him down, she locked her fingers with his.

An hour away from the Vault, Camille restfully sleeping away, Moose's phone indicated he was receiving a text message. He attempted to use his free hand to read it, but found that quite troublesome. He had to break the contact with Camille, and he read the text.

"Meet me at 1:00 PM tomorrow
-Natalie"

To meet or not meet with her, that was the question. Moose cursed this was horrible timing.