Down on My Knees Page 12

  “Hewo?” I mumble around my toothbrush.

  “Camryn!” Sarah yells out.

  Taking the plastic out of my mouth, I spit the remaining toothpaste out. “What’s wrong?”

  “Have you gotten on Facebook or the internet yet?” she asks, frantic.

  “No, I just woke up a few minutes ago. Why?”

  “I am on my way over. Do not get on either one, okay?”

  “Sarah, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  “Is Isaac there?”

  “I don’t think so. He wasn’t in bed when I woke up,” I answer, becoming concerned when she calls him a bastard under her breath.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “I’ll be at your house in five minutes. Just stay off everything. Don’t even turn your TV on,” she rushes out. “I’m serious, Cam. Just wait.” The plea in her voice has my heart pounding as she hangs up. Dropping the phone on the bed, I collapse on the mattress, my heart beating loudly in my chest. What the hell is going on?

  Isaac

  “Come on. What is the damn hold up? Donuts aren’t that damn hard,” I grumble under my breath. I hope Camryn doesn’t wake up before I make it back. I can just imagine the ways she’d repay me for bringing her hot Krispy Kremes.

  Three girls in skimpy clothes standing in front of me keep throwing looks my way before glancing back at a phone and giggling. Jeez, I don’t have time for this fucking childish shit. When I make my move to go around them, my phone rings in my pocket. I swipe to accept the call.

  “Where the hell are you?” Brian huffs out.

  “Well, good morning to you too. I’m at the donut shop.”

  “We have a situation,” he says, his voice weary.

  “Shit, what did Brett do this time?” I ask, rubbing a hand across my forehead. Brett has been hell to deal with since he and his ex, Kristen, broke up after he cheated on her. He’s been on a slippery slope to self-destruction. Drinking and chasing pussy have been his biggest grievances.

  “It’s not Brett this time. It’s you.”

  “Me?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Someone posted a sex tape of you and two girls on the internet last night. It’s everywhere. We’re working on getting it taken down, but it’s spreading like wildfire.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” I plead. This can’t be happening. Not now.

  “I wish I were. The original site removed it, but it’s been downloaded and shared god knows how many times.” At his words, my stomach drops, and I want to throw up.

  “Camryn. I have to get to her before she sees it,” I say, desperation in my voice, but my legs won’t seem to move. My mind is racing. I know that in the back of that beautiful head of hers she’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. To prove that she’s not what I want—who I want to be with. This may be the catalyst that ends us before we really begin. My manwhore history is coming back to bite me in the ass, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about.

  Before I can think anymore, I’m in my car speeding toward the woman who holds my heart in her hands.

  Camryn

  * * *

  Laid out on the couch, the second hand on the clock slowly ticks away as I wait for Sarah to get here. My finger hovers over the Facebook icon, but I reluctantly avoid touching it. It must be bad if she’s coming over to talk about whatever the hell is going on. The message button has a little one next to it, and I remember the text from the unknown number earlier. With a sense of dread, I tap the icon.

  Unknown: Told your fat ass you couldn’t keep a man. And you were too stupid to believe me. Watch and learn, sis.

  There’s an attachment to the message and even though my head screams for me not to click the link, I do anyway.

  The video that pops up gives no warning. There are two young women laying on a bed in their bras and panties, whispering to each other. A door opens, and my stomach drops to my feet. Isaac, bare chested with his jeans unsnapped, walks into the room. He says something I can’t make out, and the girls pop up onto their knees, unhook their bras, and throw them on the floor. With that cocky grin of his, he walks to the edge of the bed, each hand reaching out and palming a full breast. Leaning over, he kisses the blonde while continuing to fondle the brunette before switching. The blonde pushes his jeans off his hips, and when his dick pops free of the fabric, she sucks it down her throat with practiced ease. Isaac throws his head back, ecstasy clear on his face, and threads his fingers through her hair, holding her tightly to his groin.

  Bile rises in my throat as I run for the bathroom. Dry heaves consume me as gentle hands hold my hair back.

  “Damn it, Camryn. I told you not to. Damn stubborn ass,” Sarah murmurs behind me.

  “I didn’t,” I croak, my throat scratchy. “My sister decided she needed to send me the link to the video.” Laying my head down on the toilet seat, I pray my stomach will settle.

  “Your sister is a fucking bitch,” she bites out.

  “She is a bitch.”

  “Why the hell would she do that?”

  “Why does she do any of things she does? She’s always been this way with me. Ever since we were little.”

  “Is that why you have nothing to do with her?” I nod in silence.

  Before she can say anything else, the ricochet of the front door slamming open rings through the house.

  “Red!” Isaac bellows out.

  Oh God, I can’t do this. As the pain in my chest increases, I sink to the cold tile floor.

  Isaac

  “Get out of here Isaac,” Sarah practically hisses at me like a she-cat as I rush through the bedroom toward the open bathroom door.

  “I need to talk to her,” I plead, trying to get past her, but she advances toward me, backing me farther away.

  “Oh, I bet you do, you bastard.”

  “Sarah, please, I know you’re her friend, but we need to talk about this. Just me and her.”

  “I told you I would make you pay if you hurt her.” She stabs her pointed nail into my chest.

  “And I told you that’s the last thing I ever want to do.” Just the thought of causing Camryn pain feels like a knife stabbing me in the stomach. The sincerity of my words rings out, and the anger in her face softens as her eyes fill with pity.

  “Go into the living room. Give her a minute,” she mutters, glancing over her shoulder into the bathroom.

  Nodding in agreement, I leave the room, sit on the couch, and wait. Murmuring floats from the bedroom, too soft for me to make out. Sarah walks out of the room and places her hand on my shoulder.

  “You have an uphill battle, Isaac. This may be the thing that breaks her.”

  “I didn’t know anything about it until Brian called me while I was waiting in line to get her some donuts,” I say, wiping a hand across my face. “I haven’t even seen the damn thing.”

  “Check her phone,” Sarah says, handing it to me. “Her sister sent her the damn video.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me!” I whisper. After the incident in August at the pool party, we hadn’t spoken a word about her sister. And I know she doesn’t speak to her, so how the hell did she even know we were together? It’s not like we’ve made it public. That’s this kind of public scrutiny I’ve been avoiding.

  “I was trying to do damage control before she saw it, but sister dearest didn’t have any qualms about hurting her. Good luck,” Sarah says before walking out the front door and closing it behind her.

  Staring at the damning piece of technology in my hand, I debate whether to watch the video or not when I hear her moving in the bedroom. When our eyes lock, the utter misery in hers is like a knife to the heart.

  “Red, come here please,” I plead, holding my hand out toward her, but she just crosses her arms around her waist, protecting herself, shaking her head.

  I step toward her, and she steps back, completely halting my attempts.

  “Red…”

  “Is that what you were doing last night?”
she asks, despondent.

  “God no. I was at the bar Keith was playing at last night. With Brian.” At my admission, she just nods.

  “I didn’t know anything about this until Brian called me this morning.” She remains silent. “I have no idea if it’s even me.”

  “It’s you. Trust me on that,” she mutters under her breath.

  “Damn, I wish you hadn’t seen that.” I run my hands over the top of my head.

  “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I’ve never sat there and said, ‘Oh, hey, I’m going to make a sex tape’.” She flinches at my tone, and it makes me feel worse.

  “I would hope not.”

  “If it is me on that tape, someone did it without my permission. And it was before you, Red. I have not cheated on you.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Thank God,” I breathe out.

  “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “Wait. What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t be what you need, Isaac,” she says, looking at the floor.

  “You’re everything I need, Red.” I move toward her. Placing a finger under her chin, I raise her face until I see her shimmering eyes, one fat tear falling from her lashes and sliding down her cheek.

  “No, I’m not. And you need to see that. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what exactly?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Me. You. Us.”

  “What are you trying to say here, Camryn?” Dread sits like a lead ball in the pit of my stomach.

  “We aren’t going to work out. I am not what you need. I’m just a novelty. The chick who didn’t fall at your feet the first time she saw you. That novelty will wear off sooner rather than later. I don’t know if I can survive that. And then you’ll be back to parading around with the super models.”

  “You have a really high opinion of me, don’t you?” Hurt bleeds into my voice, making her wince.

  “That’s not what this is about. I just know what’s going to happen. And it’s going to break my heart,” she states as a sob escapes her.

  “I’ll do everything in my power not to break your heart.”

  “And that’s what I have to do too. As much as it hurts now, I can’t imagine how it will be later down the road.”

  I move to take her in my arms, but she extends her arm, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Please leave.”

  “Red…”

  Fat tears roll down her cheeks. “I need you to leave.”

  Running my hands over my face, I realize she isn’t going to listen to a damn thing I say. “You’re so damn worried about me breaking your heart, I guess you don’t give a damn about breaking mine.”

  Without a backwards glance, I walk out the door.

  Camryn

  The soft click of the door may as well be a gunshot in the silent room as I collapse to my knees, tears pouring down my face as the desolation ravages me.

  What the hell have I done?

  Am I such a selfish bitch I never once considered his feelings? Was I so worried about protecting my heart, I broke his with my own insecurities?

  The horrid revelation sends nausea rolling through me, and once again, I find myself kneeling before the porcelain throne, dry heaves plaguing me until I collapse in a heap on the cold tile floor.

  “Jesus, Camryn. You look like shit,” Sarah says as she saunters through our office door.

  “You’re so good for my ego.”

  “No, sugar, I tell the truth. Each day, you look worse. It’s been weeks since you gave Isaac the old heave-ho.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I complain as she hands me a bottle of water.

  “Look, we’re friends, right?” At my affirmation, she continues. “That means I need to tell you the truth.

  “Okay.”

  “You are working yourself to death, Camryn Jean.” Before I can respond, she points a red-tipped finger at me. “Hush, you’re going to listen. You are here, shut up in this damn office for at least sixteen hours a day. You can’t be sleeping because the bags under your eyes could hold enough clothes for a week. And the black circles under them rival a raccoon. You can’t be eating because you’re losing weight. Don’t think I don’t see how those pants sag off your ass. You’re too damn pale, even for a woman of Irish decent. I am worried sick about you.” Her voice breaks at the end, telling me how much this is upsetting her.

  Pushing back my rolling chair, I stand to give her a hug, but a wave of dizziness washes over me. The last thing I see before the blackness claims me is the look of horror on Sarah’s face before everything fades.

  Incessant beeping and the soft murmur of voices call to me. Blinking my eyes open, all I can see are the white tiles of the ceiling. The smell of cleaning products makes my nose twitch.

  “Camryn, hon, you waking up?” A warm hand curls around mine before Sarah’s face appears before me, eyes wide as her gaze roves over me

  “There you are. How do you feel?” she asks, worried.

  “I’m not sure,” I respond, taking in the ugly brown curtains attached to tracks on the ceiling to cordon off the area. My arms feel like they have weights attached to them. An IV pumps a bright yellow fluid into the bend of my elbow. “What happened?” I ask, not recalling anything.

  “Let’s see, I came into the office, read you the riot act, you stood up, and passed the hell out. You scared the living daylights out of me!”

  “How did I get here?”

  “Margaret called nine-one-one after I screamed when you hit your head on the side of the desk.”

  “That explains the headache,” I say, reaching up to probe the tender spot on my temple.

  “When am I getting out of here?”

  “I’m not sure. They drew a bunch of blood and are still waiting on the results.”

  Not even a second later, a man dressed in blue scrubs pulls back the curtain.

  “Well, hello. Glad to see you awake, Ms. Kirkpatrick. Gave your friend over there quite the scare. I’m Matt. I’m a PA here in the emergency room. We just got back your lab work.”

  “What’s the verdict? When can I go home?”

  “Not tonight, I’m afraid. You are severely dehydrated and malnourished. Your sodium and potassium levels are out of whack and you are fatigued. None of which are good for your baby,” the man finishes, and I feel like a lit bomb drops right into my lap.

  “Baby?” I ask in open-mouthed shock.

  “She’s pregnant!” Sarah bursts out, looking at me like I’ve betrayed her. “You’re pregnant!”

  As if sensing the landmine he just stepped on, he takes a step back. “You didn’t know?”

  “No, I’m on birth control,” I blurt out. “Are you sure those are my test results you’re looking at?”

  Glancing down at the tablet in his hand, he nods. “Yes, ma’am. It has your name and birthdate.” He hands me the tablet and points to the results.

  “I can’t be pregnant. It’s not possible,” I argue.

  “If you’ve been sexually active, it’s entirely possible.” A concerned look appears on his face. “You haven’t been sexually assaulted, have you?”

  “No,” I assure him.

  “You are going to be transferred up to obstetrics for monitoring. You need at least a couple more bags of fluids with the vitamins in it before you can be released. Since you were unaware you were pregnant, the on-call OB-GYN can give you an examination and get you set up for regular appointments. The nurse will wheel you up in a few minutes. You two have a good night.” He rushes out of the room as if he dodged a bullet with the information he released.

  “Are you going to call Isaac?” Sarah asks from my side.

  “No,” I bark out. At the look of censure on her pinched face, I amend, “Not yet. Let me figure this out first.”

  “What’s to figure out? You’re pregnant. With child, in the family way. Preggo.”

  “Oh Lord. How the hell did this happen?” />
  “If I need to explain the birds and the bees to you, how the hell did you get through nursing school?” She chuckles.

  Swatting my hand at her, I give her a small smile. “I think I know the mechanics well enough. It’s just…I get my birth control shot like clockwork. It’s supposed to be like ninety-nine percent effective. Are you telling me I fell into that damn one percent it doesn’t work for?”

  “Apparently so. Okay, we’re not telling Isaac. Is there someone I need to call?”

  “No. Bryson’s football schedule is crazy right now.”

  “What about Kristen or Mallory?” I shake my head before she finishes.

  “If they find out I’m in here, their men find out. I don’t need the why of the matter getting back to Isaac before I tell him.”

  “Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. He needs to hear from you that he’s going to be a daddy.” At her words, all the tears I’ve been holding in come pouring out.

  Warm arms wrap me in a hug as she whispers, “Shhh…it’ll be all right. Everything happens for a reason.”

  “Ms. Kirkpatrick, are you ready to ride upstairs?” A bubbly blonde nurse parts the curtains to reveal the wheelchair waiting for me. I wipe the back of my hand across my face and nod.

  Apparently, when you’re in the maternity ward, the food is a lot better. The fluffy Belgian waffle sitting in front of me is dripping with syrup and topped with strawberries and whipped cream, and the bacon is cooked to crispy, salty perfection.

  “Good morning!” Sarah calls out as she opens the heavy wooden door.

  “Hey, I thought you weren’t coming over until lunch.”