Hemlock Clan: What I Am

~ XXXVII ~

Cameron

Looking at the door in front of me, I let out a sigh. My body felt like lead. It was hard to walk, hard to breathe, hard to talk.

How the fuck I had managed to walk from my apartment to Rosie's and get here in one piece was anyone's guess. Although she didn't live too far from me, the walk had been long, difficult, demanding. I didn't remember much else about the walk over here.

And I was relieved that I was here, seemingly holding it together, not yet a blubbering hot mess.

I needed someone to talk to. Tate had offered to listen, but it just felt weird having him at my apartment. He had never even bothered with me before now. So why was he taking a sudden interest now? It didn't make sense.

Nothing made fucking sense right now.

Lifting my hand to knock felt like I was lifting a dead weight. My limb was tired, my hand was shaky.

Fuck.

Just as my hand reached the wood of the apartment door, it swung open to reveal Rosie on the other side, looking lovely in a simple t-shirt and shorts.

Her dark eyes looked me up and down, then she reached forward to grab my hands in hers.

"Rosie, I ..."

The sentence was left unfinished as Rosie pulled me inside her apartment and into her arms. She squeezed my waist and rested her head on my shoulder.

Leaning into her embrace, all the tension left my body, my head suddenly felt heavy and I breathed out a sigh, ending it on a sob.

Emotions crashed into me, fighting for space in my head, my body, my soul. Anger tore through my body, boiling inside, raging through my arms. I gripped onto Rosie and sobbed into her hair.

Sadness washed through my chest, squeezing my heart, sending shivers along my spine. I held her tighter, pulling her smaller body against mine. I needed comfort, an anchor, something that felt normal.

Everything else was twisting, turning, making no sense. The guy I was falling in love with wasn't a guy after all. He was a ... a ...

Another sob tore my chest. I couldn't say it. Couldn't speak out loud what he was. Couldn't even think about what he was.

What even was he?

Tate, although he was trying to be nice, helpful, a good neighbour ... he had freaked me out earlier. He had never acknowledged me before. Pretty sure he didn't even know I existed until now.

Yet, he'd sat with me until I had started to feel better, started to feel like I could function without throwing up or feeling like I was going to die.

He'd asked if I had wanted him to stay with me. He admitted to knowing that I worked a night shift and even offered to watch over the apartment while I slept.

But I hadn't felt like sleeping. Not after everything that had happened. My mind wouldn't stop, wouldn't close off, wouldn't rest. It kept throwing up images of Blake huddled in the corner of my room, hissing, baring long teeth at me, his eyes as black as his hair, his arm on fire.

More sobs worked their way up my throat and I felt Rosie squeeze me tighter.

I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to be with someone. I didn't want to be on my own.

Up until meeting Blake, I'd only ever had two people I could talk to, two people who would listen if I needed them to.

And Rosie was the best option of the two.