T. Leigh - A Tragic Wreck

His words flooded Olivia with guilt. What am I doing to him? she thought. She knew she was using him. It was clear Cam had real feelings for her. Maybe she could have feelings for him, too. She gazed into his eyes, hoping to feel something for him. But it never came. Not wanting to stare into his eyes, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, running her hands up and down his chiseled back.

His tempo increased and he grunted against her neck. Olivia knew he was close. She could feel it in the way he thrust into her. She dug her nails into his back, setting him off.

“Oh, Libby!” he quivered, his body shaking on top of her as he shuddered, finding his release and pumping into her a few last times. He collapsed on top of her, totally spent, as she gently caressed his sweat-drenched hair, both their breathing still ragged.

After lying there for several long moments, Cam slowly got up, withdrawing from her. He removed the condom and pulled on his boxer shorts, sitting back down next to her. She leaned up and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Cam.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, running his hand up and down her arm, savoring the soft flesh.

“For making me feel again. I needed that.”

Cam smiled. “Well, anytime you need to feel, I’m more than happy to help. Damn, Libby,” he exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “That was fucking intense.”

Olivia smiled, his compliment sending sparks through her body. Not fireworks, but it was still better than nothing.

“I hate to do this, but I should probably get back to my place. I do need to work tomorrow.” He stood up, grabbing his shirt and pants.

Olivia grabbed her underwear and put them on. “Wait, Cam. Stay. Please. I don’t know if I can bear being alone tonight.”

Cam's heart sank as he stared into her big brown eyes. The sadness was overwhelming. He sighed, wondering what made her seem so broken. “Okay. Anything for you, beautiful.” He winked and grabbed her hand. “Bedroom is upstairs, I assume?” Olivia nodded and followed him up the stairs.

That night, for the first time in over a month, she fell asleep with a man’s arms around her and it felt good.

Until those haunting green eyes invaded her dreams again.

“JESUS, LIBBY, WAKE UP!” Cam shouted, shaking her.

Her eyes flung open, taking in her surroundings. It was warm, and there was something else in her bed. Cam. He’s still here, she thought.

“Fuck, Libby. What’s going on with you?” he asked, flipping her around so she faced him. Olivia searched his silver eyes that were awash with concern and compassion. Reaching out, he wiped her tear-stained eyes with his thumb, gently brushing his lips against her forehead. “You’re worrying me,” he whispered.

Olivia bolted from the bed, grabbed a t-shirt, and threw it on. “I’m fine, Cam,” she spat out viciously. “I don’t want you to worry about me. I don’t want anyone worrying about me. Just let it go, okay?”

She scurried down the stairs, trying to forget her dream. The boy with the green eyes continued haunting her dreams, and he kept morphing into Alexander.

“Libby, wait!” Cam cried, running down the stairs and into the kitchen. He watched as Olivia opened a semi-full bottle of whiskey and drank straight from it. “What are you doing?”

She took a breath before throwing the bottle back, drinking more. “What does it look like?! This is the only thing that takes those fucking dreams away, Cam!” she cried out, her hands shaking. “How the fuck would you feel if, every night, you watch your parents die?! EVERY! FUCKING! NIGHT!” Her cries became more and more desperate with each breath. “And then you see the person who saved you and you don’t know who the fuck it is, but you know that you should! I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she moaned, sinking down to the kitchen floor, clutching the bottle in her hand as if her life depended on it.

Cam lowered himself to the ground and sat next to her. He leaned against the cabinets and watched with sympathy as she threw back the bottle once more, taking another long drag. He said quietly, “You know, there are pills that you can try if you don’t want those dreams anymore.”

She shook her head vehemently, her sobs heavy. “No. I’m not going to use chemicals. My doctor already gave me valium, which I refuse to take, to help with the panic attacks.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So, then, what’s the deal with that whiskey bottle you’re holding?”

“Fuck you,” she spat out, glaring at him.

Cam sighed, placing his arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Sorry, Libby. I just hate to see you upset. Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”

Olivia took another swig of the bottle. “Nothing, Cam. There is nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do. This is my fucking life. I destroy people so you should stay far away from me because I’ll just destroy you, too.” She stood up and threw the now empty whiskey bottle into the garbage before walking over to the window, staring out into the dark ocean. She noticed a black SUV parked a few hundred yards down the sandy road. Her heart fell as she stumbled over to the couch, falling flat on her stomach. She was emotionally drained. She wanted to shut it all off. Why did he have to come to her island and find her?

“Easy, Libby.” Cam scurried off the kitchen floor and into the living room, kneeling down next to the couch.

“I’m broken, Cam,” Olivia slurred, turning her head to look at him. “I’m broken and he keeps popping up. I can’t make it fucking stop.”

He pulled back slightly. “What are you talking about, Libby? Who are you running from? Did somebody hurt you?” The worry in his voice mirrored the unsettled look now etched across his face. He had dealt with many victims of domestic violence in the past. He wondered if that was what made Olivia leave her home and come here, trying to escape an abusive relationship.

Olivia sighed. “Nobody hurt me,” she murmured. “Although I probably deserve it. I’m the one who did the hurting. I ruin things, Cam. I ruin everything. I ruined everything.”

He brushed away the brown tendrils of hair that had fallen into her eyes, caressing the scar on her forehead. He wondered where that had come from. “I don’t know what you’re talking about right now, Libby, but I want to know. I want to help you.”

Olivia eyed him suspiciously.

He chuckled. “Not as a therapist. As a friend.”

Wiping her eyes, she turned her head and looked into Cam's eyes, wishing they were green. “I could really use a friend right now. I hate feeling so alone.”

“I promise you. I’ll never let you feel alone again. Okay, Libby? You can trust me.”

Fuck! Those words. Olivia howled, her sobs overtaking her entire body.

Cam had no idea what he said that could have possibly set her off like that. “Come on, Libby. Calm down. It’s all okay,” he reassured her, rubbing her back.

Olivia shook her head back and forth, closing her eyes. “No. I don’t think it will be,” she spat out through her tears. “Maybe it would be better if I couldn’t feel anything, Cam. I just don’t want to feel anymore.”

He continued soothing her sobs, wrapping his arms around her small frame. “You don’t mean that,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I know sometimes our feelings can be a little overwhelming, but that’s what makes us human. You don’t want to shut that off, Libby. Now, let’s get you back to bed so you can try to forget all about whatever’s upsetting you, even if for just a minute.”

Cam helped her off the couch and brought her back to the bedroom, pulling her to his body, gently comforting the last of the tears away. He sighed as he heard her breathing become even, indicating that she had finally found sleep.

Over the course of the night, he held her tightly, comforting her screams and cries when she woke up. He was terrified for her having to deal with those dreams nearly every night. He wondered if what she told him was true. Could simply reliving the night of her parents’ deaths really be causing all this pain? Or was it something else? Was it someone else? As he listened to her breathing, he heard her start mumbling the name Alexander over and over again.

Cam knew he had his answer.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, ALEXANDER woke up early, nursing a hangover, and checked in with Martin. He was somewhat evasive when responding to Alexander’s questions so he decided it was time to see for himself where Olivia lived. He grabbed the Mercedes and set out for a short drive to the north side of the island. The sun had begun to rise through some rather ominous-looking clouds over the horizon, and he wondered whether Olivia was up and feeling as miserable as he was.

He watched large condo towers turn into smaller stilt houses as he made his way north. Turning onto Ocean Avenue, he drove a few short blocks before finding the house that he was searching for. He nodded to Martin, indicating that it was okay for him to go. Looking over the two-story beach cottage, he saw Olivia’s Audi parked in the driveway, but there was another car, too. It was the Lexus from the night before.

Alexander pulled on the side of the sandy road between Olivia’s house and the sand dunes, punching the steering wheel, anger overwhelming his entire being. How could she move on so quickly? He became sick at the thought of someone else kissing her, touching her, making her feel good. He wanted to do that. It was his job. But, no. She pushed him away and now here he was, ready to beg for her to come back.