Enter The Black Oak: Chapter 23

WITH THE CLICK OF A KEY TURNING IN A LOCK, the hefty front door swings open, allowing Cameron to carry me inside and set me down at the foot of a large staircase as he kicks the door shut behind us.

“I’m going to help you walk,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

His right arm snakes around my back, taking the weight off my feet as he leads me up the stairs. Reaching the top, he picks me up again and carries me into a large moonlit bedroom to the right where he places me gently onto a four-poster bed before heading straight to an en-suite bathroom. The glow of a light and the sound of gushing water suggest that Cameron has started to run a bath. I watch him as he comes back into the room, leans over me and unbuttons my rain-soaked jacket which he throws onto a nearby chair, exposing my drenched white T-shirt and cream bra which do little to cover my cold, erect nipples. A lock of his hair caresses my forehead as he leans over me.

“Cameron?” The hoarse voice of an elderly lady in the doorway cuts through the quiet.

“Oma, I need two hot drinks. Now.”

“Is that Jessie?”

“Now, Oma. She’s freezing. I’m going to put her in a warm bath.”

“Okay. Give me three minutes,” she responds purposefully and disappears.

The heat from the car and the house have warmed up my flesh somewhat, giving me enough strength to sit up and try to take off my shoes. As I lean down, Cameron takes my hands off my shoes and removes them himself before grabbing the bottom of my T-shirt and pulling it firmly up over my head, leaving my soaked, sheer bra as the only item of clothing adorning my wet torso.

His physical dominance stuns me acutely and I look up at his face, meeting his strong gaze which holds mine as he goes to unbuckle my slim belt. I move my hands to stop him.

“Cam, I can do it. I feel better.”

He releases my belt and I stand up shakily, leaning on him as he helps me get to the bathroom.

He dips his hand into the bathwater. “You need to get in the bath, now,” he urges, reaching down to my belly to unbuckle my belt which he pulls off my waist swiftly. Despite my ragged state, my cheeks flush at the assertive gesture as his confident eyes meet mine again.

“I can do the rest, Cam.”

“I won’t look at you, I promise. Just get in. I’ll be standing outside,” he says. He leaves, closing the door behind him.

Taking the soaked pants off my jelly legs is a struggle, but after a tedious minute of wrangling, I yank them off. I unhook my bra and peel it off my wet breasts, my nipples still hard from the icy rainwater, before sliding my beige panties off and tucking them into my pants on the floor. I carefully step into the warm bath and sit there, unmoving, letting the delicious, steamy water heat my frozen bones.

“How are you doing?” Cameron asks from the other side of the door.

“Better, much better. Cam, you need to do the same. You must be freezing.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Okay. Take your time,” I respond, ducking my head under the water.

Ten or so minutes pass in the wet warmth before I cautiously get to my feet, step out of the tub and wrap myself in a pastel-blue towel before heading to the bedroom where I find my bags sitting on an antique-looking chaise longue opposite the bed with my phone placed on a bedside table.

The gentle glow of a bedside lamp allows me to take in the elegant Old World décor that is typical of all O’Neill dwellings. A dark hardwood floor spreads out to meet taupe walls, adorned with two oil paintings of exceptional trees, one looking over a choppy ocean, another filling a field with its presence. Blue accent pieces and woolen throws brighten up the rich wooden furniture and cream-colored chaise. Other than a steaming cup of something sitting on the bedside table near a freshly laid-out bathrobe on the bed, there is no clutter, no fuss. Each item is in its place, positioned by effortless design.

I barely have time to sit down when I hear a knock on the door.

“Cam?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Jess.”

“Come in,” I say, making sure the bath towel covers my body enough.

He enters looking freshly showered, barefoot and wearing charcoal-grey sweatpants below an untucked white T-shirt. The outline of his dense body is visible through the cotton. His arms are muscular and lean, his waist toned and hard, his torso impossibly long. I’ve seen his body before; the memory of him swimming bare-chested in one of the lakes at Brown to the delight of googly-eyed college girls is not one most women could ever forget, though if it’s possible, his body looks even stronger and more powerful than before. In fact, even fully clothed, it’s verging on indecent.

“Jess, put the bathrobe on. You need to stay warm.”

“Okay. Turn around.”

As he turns to face the door, I glance back, my eyes scanning his tall, athletic body, before removing my towel and dropping it onto the bed. I stand naked for a second or two as I reach for the bathrobe, slip it on and tie it around my waist as quickly as I can, making sure to cover my cleavage.

“How is she doing?” From the doorway, the rich, warm voice of Lottie O’Neill, matriarch of the O’Neill family, someone I once spent so much time with and loved so dearly, vibrates through the air like a ray of sun on a chilly day.

She must be in her late seventies now. She’s small and frail-looking, but abundant in personality, warmth and charm. She’s the type of gutsy, no-nonsense, Old World grandmother that everyone wishes they had—a reservoir of tough love, compassion and balls, and so irreverent she can make grown men cry with laughter. Her hair is now snowy white and wispy, her skin thin and dotted with age spots that look like old water stains, but her sparkling eyes are still just as sharp and alive as ever and her smile just as radiant. Her face lights up as she walks towards me.

“Lottie,” I sing, standing up so she can give me a warm hug which I reciprocate gladly. “I’m so sorry about tonight. I feel terrible—”

“Don’t be silly, darling. I’m so glad my grandson brought you here.”

“Yeah, he really saved my life.” My eyes meet Cameron’s for a suspended second before turning back to Lottie.

“Well, he’s a special young man,” she beams.

“I really appreciate you letting me stay, Lottie. I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Imposing?” She laughs heartily. “I’m usually bored out of my skull around here. It’s nice having some young, vital blood in the house—shake things up a bit. It almost makes me feel like I’m still in the land of the living. You must stay as long as you want, darling. I insist. You’ve done so much for Cameron in the past.”

I glance at him and swallow hard as his gaze catches mine again.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks to you and your grandson.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve missed your beautiful face, my darling.”

“I’ve missed you too, very much.”

“Well, I’m going back to bed, children,” she says with a smile, kissing me on the cheek. “Cameron can look after you. This old bat needs her beauty sleep. You two need to get some sleep too.”

“Thank you, Lottie,” I say.

She squeezes my hand. “I’ll see you in the morning, darling, and we can catch up then. Ask Cameron for whatever you want. Make sure you order him around a bit—does him good.”

“Will do.”

As she embraces her grandson and leaves, I sit down on the bed.

“The tow company called,” Cameron says, sitting down next to me. “They’ve got your car. They’re going to drop it at a garage in East Norwich. We can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I sigh, ashamed at how much he has had to help me tonight.

It feels so surreal to be near Cameron again, let alone in a room alone with him. It sends me back to the hours that we spent together at Brown. Rediscovering him is comforting yet alienating at the same time, especially as this version of Cameron is so much more confident, more masculine than the young man I knew just a few years ago.

“Drink your tea,” he urges and I bring the cup to my lips and drink in the fragrant brew.

“Mmm, this may be the best tea I’ve ever tasted in my life. What is it? Sencha?”

He nods with a smile.

“Have some,” I offer, moving the delicate porcelain cup towards him.

“Lottie’s just forced a cup down me,” he responds, his gaze flitting between my mouth and the cup.

I look into his eyes and place my hand on his thigh. Despite my fatigue and the lingering cold, touching his hard body sends an inexplicable thundering jolt of electricity through me, and I rush my hand away in an instant, hoping that I’m the only one of us that felt it. I swallow hard as he watches every subtle movement of my face intently.

“Cam, I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done—”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re friends. At least, I hope we are. I just… I need you to promise me you won’t ever put yourself in a situation like that again.”

My pride wants me to protest that it wasn’t my fault especially in light of all the safety seminars I organized at college, including ones I dragged Cameron to, but he’s right—one hundred percent right.

“You’re right. I thought I could handle the situation. I was wrong.”

“Jess, you understand as well as I do the dangers women face when they’re alone at night. I’m sorry if that pisses you off, but it’s true. You can’t let yourself get into—”

“I know!” I snap. “I know. Sorry, it’s just… I don’t want to think about it right now. I’ll start to panic again if I do.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking it lightly. I’ll never put myself in such a vulnerable situation ever again.”

He keeps taking me in, unspeaking, his wildly beautiful face poised and focused.

“I’m so lucky that you were traveling that way. Were you going somewhere when you saw me?” I ask, frowning. “I hope you didn’t have to change your plans or anything…”

He takes a deep breath. “I didn’t have any plans.”

“Good.”

“Lottie thought it would be best if we called your parents. I spoke to your mom while you were in the bath.”

“Oh, God. What did you tell her? I can already picture the histrionics.”

“I didn’t tell her what happened with the car. I just told her Lottie and I bumped into you and that you’re staying the night. I told her I don’t want Jack knowing you’re here or it will make things… volatile.”

“Did she freak out?”

“No. She sounded relieved that you were with me. She says Jack called the house and your dad told him that you’d gone back to Manhattan to take a few days to yourself.”

My fingertips wipe trickles of bathwater from my forehead. “God, I’m so sorry to put you in the middle of this.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to my rescue enough times in the past. I owe you a lot more than this, miss.”

As we absorb each other again and I start to shift awkwardly, unable to withstand the force of his silent dominance, Cameron gets up slowly and walks over to the door. “I think you’d better get some sleep. Help yourself to anything you need downstairs, okay?”

“Thanks, Cam, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

The door closes behind him.

As I finish my tea to the soundtrack of shrieking wind, I decide to call Stella. If even a second of the call I made to her got through, she’ll be worried sick. I open my purse, pull the charger out and plug my phone in. Two minutes later, I kneel down on the rug lying over the deep chestnut hardwood and press the power button. The password screen appears and I enter the first three digits.

Be careful.

A voice—a voice that sounds somewhat like my own, but deeper and older—echoes in my ears and I stop. As my finger hovers over the screen, ready to enter the fourth digit, my mind creeps back to that night in Brooklyn two months back when Jack turned up at Sean’s house, and a thought I had once dismissed invades me.

How did Jack know where I was?

I remember leaving Sean’s house and seeing a figure on the other side of the street—a face I thought I’d seen before. I’ve played that night over in my mind more than once. Jack told me a friend of his saw me walking down the street in Brooklyn and called him. I have no doubt that that didn’t happen. I always thought Jack had one of the goons on his payroll follow me from Manhattan, but I just can’t picture anyone being able to follow us in that traffic with all the turns we took.

My finger hovers over the last number.

It’s not possible.

About a year ago, Jack and I installed a GPS tracker app on my phone. It was supposed to be in case it got lost or stolen so that I could log in online and find it. Could he have used it to track me? And could he do it again now?

The thought of Jack turning up at this house has my breathing quickening.

That can’t happen.

I push the power button and hold it down hard until the phone switches off. Hoping Cam and Lottie are in bed, I head to the top of the stairs where I’m greeted by a faint glow emanating from downstairs. Still naked under the thick bathrobe tied at my waist, I head downstairs and turn left towards a softly lit sitting room. Opposite a wall of books next to a wingback chair, I spot a landline on a side table and make a beeline for it.

“Jess?”

My phone hits the floor.

“Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” I gasp, clutching my hand to my chest as I turn to see Cameron walking towards me in slow strides, hands deep in his pockets. I bend down to pick up the phone I dropped and stand up only to realize that my bathrobe has come undone a tad and the top of my cleavage is exposed. I quickly readjust my robe as I look up to find Cameron’s eyes on mine. He watches me curiously, a smile around his eyes.

“I have to call Stella. She’s gonna be worried about me.”

“You don’t have a phone charger?”

“No, it’s… it’s charging. I just… I’m not sure if it’s safe to switch it on.”

He takes a step towards me. In my bare feet, opposite this tall, powerful man, I feel much shorter than my five feet six inches.

“Safe?”

“I can’t really explain.”

“If you’re in any danger, I need to know about it.”

“No, no, I’m not. It’s…”

He takes another couple of steps towards me until he’s just five feet away, his stern expression suggesting he’s not going to drop it until he gets an explanation.

I let out a sigh in the face of his stubborn determination. “I’m afraid that Jack will be able to find me if I switch my phone on—track me somehow.”

“Do you have reason to think he could do that?” Cameron stiffens as if just the idea of Jack is painful.

I nod.

“I’m not afraid of him, Jess—of him coming here. Me and Lottie will kick that prick’s ass.”

I laugh—a desperately needed laugh that loosens the tight ball of tension in my gut.

“I know. I know you’re not. And I totally believe you about Lottie. I just… I don’t want you to be put in that situation, ever. Or Lottie. And I don’t want to see him ever again. I just can’t.”

A hint of relief registers on his face and his body loosens up like a pillow that’s just been released from a case that was too small.

“Okay. Well, don’t switch your phone on. You can use the landline instead. If there’s anyone’s number you don’t know, tell me and I’ll have someone look it up. Do you know Stella’s number?” he asks.

“Yeah, I made us all memorize each other’s numbers years ago—Stella, Maddie, Kev and I.”

“Well, use the phone as long as you need. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

My friend picks up on the first ring.

“Stella?”

“Jessie! Thank God. I was worried sick!” she exclaims. “I tried calling your cell.”

“I’m sorry. My battery ran out.”

“Are you in Manhattan?”

“No. My car broke down.”

“What?!” she shouts.

“Yeah, on the highway. Cameron saw me on the side of the road—long story. Anyway, I’m going to stay with him and Lottie for the night.”

“Cameron? O’Neill?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, that’s better than being by yourself, that’s for sure.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “Honey, Jack’s called a few times. He’s left a shitload of messages. He’s been texting Kevin too. I haven’t picked up yet.”

“Shit! I’m so sorry. I don’t want him bothering you like that! Should I call him?”

“No! He’s manipulative… and frankly unstable right now. The best thing you can do is stay as far away from him as possible.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want him hassling you two.”

“Don’t worry about us, sweetie. We’re big girls. I’ve dealt with men far scarier than Jack, believe me. Plus Kevin’s here with me. I’m going to text him to let him know you need a couple of days to yourself and will call him on Monday, okay?”

“Oh, Stella, I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Listen, sweetie. I do this kind of thing for a living. Do not call that man. You need to get his manipulative words out of your head.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. I’m pretty sure he must have figured out what’s going on. I’m guessing he may try and get back to Manhattan tonight.”

“I know. I’m going to stay with Cam and Lottie and then tomorrow I’ll try to figure out what I’m doing. I can’t use my phone. I’m paranoid that Jack can track me with it. Can you text Maddie and tell her where I am?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

After saying our goodbyes, I let out a sigh of relief that my parents and friends don’t have to worry, but I can’t stand the thought of Jack bothering them.

“Everything okay?” Cameron asks as he reappears from the kitchen.

“Um, yeah. Jack’s just…” I inhale deeply and pull my still-damp hair behind my ears with quivering fingers.

“What?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t talk about Jack anymore.”

Cameron studies my reticent face for suspended moments, his eyes grim. “I know you think I don’t deserve to know about your life after the way our friendship… ended,” he utters somberly. “Even though I said what I did about Jack, there hasn’t been a day go by when I didn’t wish that I would be proven wrong. I never, ever wanted you to be hurt.”

I don’t speak. I’ve held onto the resentment I feel towards Cameron for all the stress he caused me when I got together with Jack for so long that I’m not sure if I’m even able to let it go at this point.

“I don’t want you to think that I get some twisted satisfaction from what’s happening,” he continues. “I don’t. Your happiness is the only thing I give a shit about. It’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about, even if it didn’t always seem that way. And I’m sorry… for the way I fucked everything up between us. I know I hurt you badly.”

Hearing the words I’ve wanted to hear from him for so long dissolves some dark, hard tomb of anguish deep within me.

“You did,” I utter softly. “Losing your friendship was… really hard. I just wish you’d tried harder to accept him, for me.”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve wished I could go back and do things differently. Our friendship meant more to me than anything else in my life. I fucked it up badly.” He runs a strong hand through velvety locks that look like waves of ebony in the dim light. “We can talk about it more tomorrow, but right now you need to tell me what Jack’s doing, so I know how I can protect you.”

“He’s been calling Stella and Kevin, leaving frantic messages. I hate that he’s bothering them. And God knows who else—Maddie, my parents, my godmother? I feel like I should call him and tell him to stop.”

“That’s not a good idea,” he responds sternly. “I’ve known Jack for a very long time, as you know. Jack has never felt anything like what he feels for you before. He’s not going to take you leaving lying down. He’ll do anything in his power to get you back. Anything. I don’t think it’s safe.”

I nod, willing to listen to the general consensus of the people around me. “Okay. Well, Stella is gonna tell him I’ll call him on Monday. I hope that calms him down.”

“It will. Jess, Lottie meant what she said. We want you to stay here as long as you need.”

“I know. She’s so kind. You both are. But I’m not having you involved in this mess. If Jack finds out I’m here, he’ll—”

“I’m not afraid of Jack. You don’t have to be afraid either as long as I’m around.”

I smile at him half-heartedly, knowing full well that Cameron is gravely underestimating how dangerous Jack can be. “I know, but I can’t hide behind another man like this. I need to face the situation on my own.”

His apparent disapproval of my words registers in the deep furrow between his brows and the hint of irritation that darkens his demeanor.

“We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to get some sleep,” he says.

As I stand in front of him, I wonder for a second how to say goodnight—whether I should kiss him on the cheek, hug him or just leave. I choose the latter.

“Goodnight,” I say, turning to walk out of the room.

“Goodnight, Jess.”

As I walk up the stairs, I turn my head to find him watching me from the sitting room and I smile in gratitude. A moment later, he disappears from view.