I shook my head, and closed my eyes. When my brothers found out about this, it would be war.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
OH MY GOD!” MOM SAID WHEN SHE OPENED THE DOOR. “What did you do, Felix? What happened?”
Dad moaned.
She helped us carry him to the couch, and then covered her mouth. She ran to get a pillow and blanket, and then made him comfortable. She hugged me.
“He’s been drinking,” I said.
She pulled away from me, and tried to play off the news with a worried smile. “He doesn’t drink anymore. You know that.”
“Mom,” I said. “Smell him. He’s drunk.”
She looked down at her husband, and touched her mouth with trembling fingers.
“He came to my apartment. He attacked me.” She jerked her head to look at me with wide eyes. “If Trent hadn’t been there, Mom . . . he was set on beating the hell out of me. Trent had to hold him back, and he still came at me.”
Mom looked down at Dad again. “He was angry you didn’t come for lunch. And then Chase started in. Oh, God. This family is falling apart.” She reached down and yanked the pillow out from under Dad’s head. His skull cracked against the arm. She hit him once with the pillow, and then again. “Goddamn you!” she yelled.
I held her arms, and then she dropped the pillow and began to cry.
“Mom? If the boys find out that Trent did this . . . I’m afraid they’ll come after him.”
“I can handle it, babe. Don’t worry about me,” Trenton said, reaching out for me.
I shrugged away from him. “Mom?”
She nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she meant what she said. She looked down at him again, nearly snarling.
“We’d better go,” I said, motioning to Trenton.
“What the hell?” Coby said, stepping out from the dark hallway into the living room. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. His eyes were heavy and tired.
“Coby,” I said, reaching out to him. “Listen to me. It wasn’t Trent’s fault.”
“I heard,” Coby said, frowning. “He really attacked you?”
I nodded. “He’s drunk.”
Coby looked up at Mom. “What are you going to do?”
“What?” she said. “What do you mean?”
“He attacked Camille. He’s a grown f**king man, and he attacked your twenty-two-year-old daughter. What the f**k are you going to do about it?”
“Coby,” I warned.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re going to threaten him to leave, and then stay. Like you always do.”
“I don’t know this time,” Mom said. She looked down at him, watched him for a while, and then hit him with the pillow again. “Stupid!” she said, her voice cracking.
“Coby, please don’t say anything,” I begged. “We don’t need a Maddox-versus-Camlin situation on top of this.”
Coby glared at Trenton, and then nodded at me. “I owe you one.”
I sighed. “Thank you.”
Trenton drove us to his dad’s house, pulled into the drive, and left the Smurf running. “Christ, Cami. I still can’t believe I hit your dad. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand. The humiliation was almost too much to bear.
“We’re having Thanksgiving at our house this year. I mean, we have it every year, but we’re actually cooking. A real turkey. Dressing. Dessert. The works. You should come.” I broke down, then, and Trenton pulled me into his arms.
I sniffed and wiped my eyes, opening the door. “I have to go to work.” I got out, and Trenton did, too, leaving the driver’s-side door open. He pulled me into his arms to ward off the cold.
“You should call in. Stay here with me and Dad. We’ll watch old westerns. It’ll be the most boring night of your life.”
I shook my head. “I need to work. I need to be busy.”
Trenton nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He cupped each side of my face, kissing my forehead.
I pulled away from him. “You can’t come tonight. Just in case my brothers find out what happened.”
Trenton laughed once. “I’m not afraid of your brothers. Not even all three of them at the same time.”
“Trent, they’re my family. They can be ass**les, but they’re all I’ve got. I don’t want them to get hurt any more than I want you to.”
Trenton hugged me, this time squeezing me tight. “They’re not all you’ve got. Not anymore.”
I buried my face in his chest.
He kissed the top of my hair. “Besides, that’s one thing you don’t mess with.”
“What?” I asked, pressing my cheek against his chest.
“Family.”
I swallowed hard, and then rose up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I have to go.” I hopped up into the driver’s side of the Smurf and slammed the door.
Trenton waited for me to roll down the window before he responded. “Fine. I’ll stay home tonight. But I’m callin’ Kody so he can keep an eye on you.”
“Please don’t tell him what happened,” I pleaded.
“I won’t. I know he’ll tell Raegan, and she’ll tell Hank, and then your brothers will find out.”
“Exactly,” I said, appreciating that someone else saw how protective Hank was of me. “See you later.”
“Is it all right if I come by after you get home?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Can you be there when I get home?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be in Dad’s truck.”
Trenton stood in the yard, watching me back out of the driveway. I drove to the Red, and was thankful that it was the busiest Sunday night we’d seen in a while. Freezing temperatures were a deterrent to tattoos, but clearly not to liquor, flirting, and dancing. The girls still wore sleeveless club tanks and dresses, and I shook my head at every woman who walked in shivering. I worked my ass off, slinging beers and mixing cocktails, which was a nice change from a long day at Skin Deep, and then went home. As promised, Trenton was sitting in Jim’s bronze pickup next to my parking spot.