Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) by Yessi Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

broken promises are his norm, and I don’t want to add to his ever-growing pile of shit.
    His reality is a nightmare. What’s hardest to swallow, it’s one he can escape from, but he’s worried. If he reports the abuse and the police take him away, then they’ll also be taking him away from me. He’s told me countless times that he’d rather go through the beatings than not have me at the end of the day.
    But even in his sleep, he’s afraid now. Even in sleep, when the body should be at rest, he moans, and if I try to soothe him, he flinches in response. As he dreams, tears pool down his face and soak into my pillow. So, I stay awake while he sleeps, making sure every one of his tears is accounted for.
    My worst fears are his reality, and every day, his parents’ hatred consumes us.
    A lump forms in my throat when Camden finally walks through the doors, and I swallow hard. He has a slight limp, but our teacher’s too preoccupied with his tardiness to realize he’s hurt. I notice it though, and my foot stops tapping on the floor when he walks past me without looking in my direction. But my gaze stays on him anyway, and my body cringes with his as he eases himself onto his seat.
    Not caring if I get caught, I scribble a note onto my notebook paper with the words How bad? scrawled quickly across it. I pass it to him, but he refuses to take it. Frustrated because I’ve been worried about him and he doesn’t seem to care, I slam the note on his desk. He stares across the room while the girl sitting behind us giggles, and our teacher coughs to get our attention.
    Without looking at me, Camden takes the note, crumples it into a small ball, and then throws it into his book bag. I glare at him, but then I feel my own lips twitch when I see him bite back a smile.
    After the bell rings, Camden snatches his bag, but he can’t move quickly, which makes it easy for me to follow him. I grab his arm and don’t pull away until he stops and faces me.
    “Lift your shirt,” I demand, using my best no-nonsense voice.
    “You wanna see me naked, huh?” His voice is laced with malice, but his eyes track my face for understanding.
    I’ve come to learn that he’s only mean when things are bad, so I keep my mouth shut and don’t reply.
    Taking his hand in mine, I lead us to the gymnasium. After I make sure no one is around, I lift his shirt and shudder. A quiet cry echoes in my chest when I see the fresh bruises already forming along his stomach and ribs.
    Angry, I ball my hands into fists but force them open so I can continue to inspect him for further injuries.
    “I’m fine, Yan.” He lowers his shirt before I do something stupid, like kiss his bruises.
    “You’re not.” Tears well in the back of my eyes so I blink them back. When I’m certain I won’t cry, I meet his gaze. “What’s wrong with your leg?”
    “Not a damn thing.” He moves away from me, trying to put distance between us, but I hold on to his hand because someone has to hold on for both of us. “Mind your business.”
    “You are my business.” I keep my voice low but firm, and his eyes soften. “Should we put ice on it?” I ask.
    He shrugs and his eyes dart across the room before they lock back on mine, and he nervously licks his lips.
    “My thigh,” he admits. “I didn’t get a chance to clean it.”
    Holding his hand again, I guide us to the girls’ locker room, understanding what he hasn’t spoken. He’s bleeding, and he must have bandaged it up without cleaning it, because he wouldn’t want to miss any more school.
    Most kids pretend to be sick, so they don’t have to go to school. Camden pretends everything’s okay, so he doesn’t have to miss .
    “How bad is it?” I ask, pursing my lips together into a thin line. The idea of seeing blood hazes my vision, and I hope I won’t get sick and vomit.
    “I got it, Yan. I’ll clean it.”
    “I’ll do it.”
    I bite my inner cheek as our eyes meet again, and he nods his head once