Sorry it's been so long! I just haven't been in the zone for writing, ya'know? But I'm back now, with the chapter you've all been waiting for! Er, the chapter you've all probably given up hope of ever seeing. Feel free to not review it. I don't deserve reviews, after abandoning you guys so long =( Just read it, and hopefully enjoy it!

Chapter 21

Deep breath. "My sister, Debbie. Deborah. Sweet, lovable Deb. Nine years older than me. Which means that I was only about seven when she started getting into trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The usual. Started out as drinking, staying out too late with friends. Then she started smoking, and my dad put his foot down about that. Told her, if she didn't straighten up and fly right, she couldn't live under his roof. So she left. Lived on the couches of various friends, guys she'd just met, all that. I was ten or eleven by the time I understood what was going on. Right around the time she officially became a crackwhore. She was in deep. My parents barely spoke to her, but I remember she came to Easter dinner one year, and my mother took one look at her and burst into tears. And I remember Deb saying, that day, that she wanted out. Wanted to change."

I paused for breath. The attack was definitely over, and my chest felt fine. I was still bleeding, but I didn't worry about that.

"She did, didn't she? She got married and moved to Australia?" Sawyer asked, engrossed in the story. I glanced at him. Anxiety filled his eyes, which were torn between the trickle of blood down my leg and my face as I retold the dysfunction of my childhood.

"Yeah. My parents helped her out, got her into rehab. She did okay for a while, but she couldn't stick with it. She relapsed, and though she wasn't whoring anymore, as far as I know, she fell pretty hard back into the drugs. And then she met Jared." His name came out with difficulty, reminding me of the part of my story I had to get to, eventually, the part that was much harder to tell. "He was an addict, too, but less hardcore. He had a house, left over from a divorce. My parents were even more worried when she started dating him, thought that she wouldn't have any motivation to get clean, now. But somehow he convinced her to get into a program. He kicked it, too. It didn't make sense. When users get together, they're supposed to be worse. Her chances of getting clean should have been halved. And yet she did it. Both of them did. It's a story they like to tell, they get all teary-eyed and they talk about how they were eachother's salvation. I've heard her say, so many times, that Jared saved her life. Six months after meeting him, she was clean. Quit smoking and everything. She doesn't even drink anymore, didn't even before she got pregnant. She took some courses and got a decent job as a receptionist or something. She and Jared got married, and she was so happy, for a while. But her old friends kept coming around, and Jared's, too. They said they were too close to their old lifestyle, and it was all too tempting."

"So they moved to Australia."

"Yep. Just up and left. They both found work there, and they really got into the whole Surf scene. They were always rock-climbing and stuff, too. Never a dull moment. And then, great news! She's pregnant. At just the right time in her life, too. Not such a good time in my life, coincidentally." I sighed. "That was right around the time when my parents' fighting started getting worse. My sister was no longer a hooker, so I guess the family needed some other source of dysfunction. My parents have always been great, mind you. I don't know how my sister went so wrong. My mom's a nurse, my dad's a supervisor for some big company, and with my sister out of the picture, the three of us were a happy white-picket-fence family, pretty much. Then they just started fighting. Over everything, over nothing. The way most divorces happen, right? That was just a few months ago. It got worse and worse to the point where they were screaming every night and my grades started to fail; I guess I was sort of a basket case myself. So, when they'd finally decided my dad was moving out, they thought I should go visit Deb for a while. Nice, stable, Deborah and her salvation, her equally-safe husband Jared."

Sawyer shivered. He knew what was coming. Maybe not consciously, maybe his mind hadn't quite connected the dots yet, but on some level, he knew. The bitterness in my voice, the lack of any other viable path . . . he didn't dare interrupt.

"I'd been to visit them before. About six months before. And . . . suffice it to say I didn't want to go back."

"No, that does not suffice. What happened, Cammy?" Sawyer said, his voice low and terrified.

"Oh, nothing, really. Nothing much. Jared had always been a bit inappropriate with me, at first I figured he was just being flirty. But it started getting on my nerves, creeping me out a bit. I started telling him to knock it off, but that just made him . . . more persistent. But it was all just talk, at first. By the end of my trip, though, he was starting to get physical when we were alone. A bit grabby, a bit rough."

Sawyer opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "I didn't tell anyone, no. I didn't tell Deb because by that time I only had a few days left in Australia and I didn't want to cause any trouble. I knew she wouldn't tolerate it at all, if she knew. She'd leave him in a heartbeat. But . . . while he was so awful to me, he was so good to her. He was sweet and supportive and they were so excited about their baby. I couldn't ruin that. You have to understand, Sawyer, I just couldn't."

He nodded, though he didn't look too convinced.

"So I went home and it was all good and I started to wonder if I'd maybe imagined it all. Everyone loved Jared. My parents were so grateful, he was the angel that'd saved their daughter. Everyone had forgotten that he was an addict, too, to begin with. I think I was starting to forget that, too. So when the issues between my parents came to a head and Deb called me, saying she already bought my plane ticket . . . I didn't want to go, but I did. I went back to Australia, back to where he was."

Sawyer shook his head at my stupidity, looking down. "You're so stupid . . . and brave. And stupid." He repeated, and I half-shrugged half-nodded.

"Anyway, as soon as I got there I realized that none of it was in my imagination, it was all . . . real. I knew what was coming. I thought about telling Deb, but I just . . . couldn't. And then, well, it happened."

"It happened." Sawyer repeated, half-incredulous.

"Yeah."

"Jesus Christ, Cammy!"

"Yeah."

"So, the . . . " he looked down at my stomach, at the light bleeding around my legs.

"Was his. I'd never been with anybody else."

His eyes flew wide. "Your first time was . . ."

"Yeah."

"Oh my God, Cammy."

"Yeah." I was repeating that word, nodding furiously, but it only held the tears back so long. It felt so good to tell him, and so very bad. I hadn't wanted to. And now he knew. He'd be all sympathetic, but he was really disgusted. How could he not be? Not only had I been defiled by some trailer-trash loser, but I'd had his child growing in me for a whole month. I was in the process of bleeding those sick cells out. I wouldn't go anywhere near me, if I was him.

And he didn't. He moved his arm as though to embrace me, but stopped. Dropped his hands to his lap. Was completely stationary. I wanted to get up and walk away from him, but I couldn't. We just sat there, and I knew he wanted to shift away from me, stay far away from me as though I were contagious. I would have cried harder at this, but I felt trapped by his gaze.

"Cammy. Cameron. It's okay. It's all going to be okay. He's never going to touch you again. I won't let him."

Sniffle. "What do you mean, you won't let him? Even if we do get rescued, you're certainly never going to meet him."

"I'll do one better. As soon as we get off this rock, Cammy, I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

I blinked, looked at him. "That's a bit extreme."

"You're unbelievable. Most people in your situation would be eager to see him dead."

"No. No, no, no. That's why I didn't tell anybody. Why I didn't tell Deb. I don't want him dead. I don't want him to go to jail. Because if he goes away, Debbie's going to fall back into her old life, I just know it. I know he's a monster, but he's good to her, and she needs him. I can't see my sister back on the streets."

"You'd rather her be with a rapist?"

"Yes. Because he's good to her. God knows why, but he loves her. He's a different person with me, it's like a switch is flipped."

"Let me ask you a different question, then. The baby Debbie's carrying. That's Jared's son or daughter. Do you really want a child to grow up with him as its father?"

"He'll be a good dad, really. He'll be like he is with Debbie."

"You don't know that. You've seen his true colors. I wouldn't be surprised if, after the novelty of his new wife wears off, he starts treating her differently. And that goes for their unborn child, too. What if it's a girl, Cammy-"

"He wouldn't!"

"Who knows where he'd draw the line. IF he's capable of raping his fifteen-year-old sister-in-law . . ."

"But, but . . . " the tears poured more strongly now, as Sawyer challenged me, made me question my plan of action. He was right, I knew he was right. But I didn't know what I could do. If I got rid of Jared, Debbie would be a mess. If I didn't, I was risking that baby's future. Suddenly it felt like the weight of the world rested on me.

"I'm sorry. Calm down, Cammy. You can't do anything about it from this island. There's no point worrying. You're safe now, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm not afraid. I'm . . . I just wish he hadn't done this to me."

"Well, yeah. I wish he hadn't, too. You didn't deserve that."

"No, not the actual . . . incident. I mean, I wish he hadn't . . . defiled me like this. Nobody could ever want me, now." I forced myself to look up at him. "That's why I didn't want to tell you. Already, I can feel the change. Forget attraction, I can feel the revulsion. I don't blame you . . ."

"Cammy, you got it all wrong. I'm not attracted to you right now, no. I've been trying not to be, I always have to try, except now. Now I can't help but see you . . . differently."

"Exactly."

"No, hear me out. Before, you were a cute girl who I knew I should stay away from. Now you're . . . I can't help but have a different respect for you. I always knew you were too good for me, but now . . ."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, it does. I can't exactly explain how, though."

"That's why you don't want to touch me, be near me." I said, coldly.

"Partly. And partly because . . ." he gently picked up my hand and tangled his fingers in my own. "I was afraid of scaring you, hurting you. After what he did . . . I feel like a monster for all the times I've touched you. We kissed. And maybe you didn't always want me to, and-"

He was starting to babble, so I cut him off. "No. You've never touched me when I didn't want you to. You know I always want more from you. And I kissed you. You've never made me feel anything but safe. You could never scare me."

Dumbstruck for a minute, then he smiled wide. "Good." He grabbed me in a huge hug, tucking my head into his chest. Stroked my hair, over and over again. He was so warm. I had to pull away quickly, though, and his arms loosened instantly, making a point of not restricting me. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just . . . I don't want to bleed on you. Bit gross."

He laughed and rubbed a thumb over my cheekbone. I sighed and smiled wide.

"What's got you so happy all of a sudden?" he asked.

"It's stupid."

"Tell me." a request.

"When you touch my hair, hold my face . . . any time you touch me, really, it makes me think of him."

"What?" He pulled away sharply. "That's not a good thing, and you just said-"

"Let me finish. Whenever you touch me in a place he did, I feel . . . triumphant. Like I'm beating him. He stroked my hair, when he raped me, and it pissed me off, and now you are, and it's like I get to tell him, 'look what I'm doing. Someone is touching me because I want them to.' It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it." A pause. "Did he kiss you?" I nodded, refusing to think about it. Suddenly Sawyer leaned onto me and planted his lips on mine. So soft, so slow, so warm. My tongue reached out to his, and when they touched it was all so soft and pink like good-quality bubblegum. This kiss was such a light, feminine, beautiful thing that I couldn't believe it came from Sawyer. I almost laughed at that thought, but would rather continue kissing. His arms were around me again and I felt the stubble of facial hair occasionally, trying to scratch me, but his lips were smooth and it was all so delicate that I had a sudden urge for something harsh, so I bit his lower lip. Not too hard, just enough to release some of the tension that came with the ethereal, fluid kiss. He laughed a bit, and I felt the vibration from his chest and throat resonate through me like heavy bass at a school dance. My eyes were still closed when he pulled away, so I wasn't expecting him to pull me into his chest again. His chin rested atop my head, and if the kiss felt like steam, now my breath really was steam against his shirt. So warm. I was certain that I would always look back on this as the best kiss of my life. When it became difficult to breathe and I pulled away, the jungle air hitting my face actually felt cool in comparison. Refreshing.

"Shower time."

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Posting another right now ----

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