♕Harley Anderson♕

Even though Cameron and I made our feelings for each other very clear, nothing has really come of them. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. We confessed how we felt so it is still beyond me as to why we aren't doing anything about them. The thing is that we're still friends but we don't act like friends. Friends don't kiss and make-out or cuddle when they watch a movie or hold hands in the car or make each other breakfast. And that's exactly what we're doing.

We're so much more than friends but so much less than a couple and to say I'm frustrated is an understatement. I'm still new to the dating world but I definitely know that at this point, Cameron and I have no footing. However, I can't seem to disturb it even if its frustrating. I don't want to ruin what we have going.

Whatever it is.

I peep my head inside of my apartment and glance around before opening the door for both Cameron and I. When we're both in the room, I'm hauled into the air from behind and I giggle before Cameron puts me down and wraps his arms around my waist, pushing me towards the kitchen while I giggle like a school girl. He grins down at me before lifting me onto the counter and standing between both of my legs.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he stares at me in adoration, something I'm not used to.

"Have I mentioned I really like you in blue?" He asks and I look down at my blue shirt.

"Maybe that's why I wore it." I tease and he laughs, biting on his lip as he watches me and my eyes stray to watch the movement. When my eyes snap back to his, I scowl.

"You're such a tease." I groan and he laughs, leaning in for a kiss and I peck his lips. However, when the door opens, we both spring apart to see Audrey watching us from the door with wide eyes. I clear my throat and cast her a smile before she looks between Cameron and I.

"Erm," she starts "am I interrupting something?"

I blush, but Cameron pulls away from me. "Not at all. I was just talking to Harley."

She looks between the two of us suspiciously. "Uh huh. Whatever." She waves a dismissive hand "But if you two ever decide to have kitchen sex, I don't want to find one fucking stray pube on the counter."

I splutter on my spit and Cameron's lips quirk into a tiny amused smile. "No need to worry about that Audrey."

She laughs before walking to her room and closing her door behind her, leaving Cameron and I alone.

"I'm going to get going." Cameron says, turning back to me. I frown.

"Why?"

"I've got some stuff to handle at the track." He smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I try and ignore the disappointment I feel at the fact that he has to leave me already. "Okay."

He gives me a quick peck before leaving the room and I can't help but watch his retreating figure with a deflated posture. Is this how it's always going to be? Am I always going to come second to the track and just be here for him to enjoy when it's convenient? Because that's sure how I feel- like I'm just his kiss and go.

I hear Audrey's door creak open and I turn to face her. Her mouth is twitched up into a smile before she looks at my disappointed state. "What's going on between you and Cameron?" She asks and I shake my head, hopping off of the kitchen island and rounding it to do some dishes since I have nothing better to do.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

****

A few days later and everything is still the same. My sleeping patterns have gone to somewhat regular and my nightmares have slowly being making less and less of an occurrence. I've seen no sign of the hooded figure and Cameron and I are, well, I don't even know.

At this point, I feel like it's just a fling- like we're just kissing to pass time. However, I personally feel like it goes so much deeper than that. I've also come to the conclusion that I don't particularly like not having a title.

What, are we going to become friends with benefits, too?

I just don't get it. It makes me worry that maybe the reason Cameron hasn't said anything is because he doesn't want me. I was beginning to think that maybe we weren't speaking about what's being going on because we don't want what comes with commitment. And that makes me uneasy because I'm not here to play games with Cameron's feelings although I'm slowly starting to worry that that's what he's doing.

I'm trusting a guy with my heart, something I've never done before, and I'm not willing to get my heart broken just because Cameron and I don't want the same thing from whatever is going on between us.

However, despite how much I'm worried- everything also feels so real, so genuine. Our kisses are always filled with electricity which makes me doubt myself because perhaps I'm thinking too deep into things. I don't think that whatever Cameron and I are feeling towards each other is false. If anything, it feels completely real with him.

All I do know is that I definitely needed to speak to Cameron about it before I lose my mind.

"That's a load of bullshit. I swear Fast and the Furious makes racing seem so unrealistic." Cameron scowls at the TV and I giggle from where I'm pressed against his chest.

"It's a movie, Cameron. Of course it's not realistic." I say and he scoffs.

"That's hardly a valid excuse."

I roll my eyes at him and divert my attention back to the TV, trying to concentrate on the movie instead of my thoughts. It's proven a difficult task however. After a long day of racing, Cameron and I decided to head back to his place and relax but I haven't really managed to do that with my thoughts constantly getting tied up.

I gasp when Gal Gadot makes an appearance. Cameron looks down at me with a raised eyebrow and I smile sheepishly.

"What? She's my favorite actress. Plus, she's like the most gorgeous woman to have ever walked this planet." I comment and his eyebrows raise in surprise before his eyes trail to my lips.

"I beg to differ about the latter." He comments lowly, moving closer towards my face and I giggle when he starts peppering kisses along my jaw. He laughs at my reaction before meeting his lips with mine and I instantly melt- like a vanilla ice cream on a hot summers day.

My body feels like it's on fire and I love every second of it. Cameron smiles against my lips and I love the fact that kissing me makes him happy but I cannot keep doing this.

I push his chest slightly, signaling that I want some space and Cameron obviously senses my discomfort as he pulls back with a frown etched onto his face. His eyes slide over mine, both of our breathings rapid. "What's wrong?" He asks and I look between his beautiful brown eyes, kissing my teeth in response.

I either ask him and risk what we have or I keep going and let whatever it is we have bother me because I don't know where we stand.

And I don't know what's worse.

"I... what are we?" I ask softly and his eyes harden considerably before he licks his lips. He's quiet for a second.

"Well, what do you want us to be?"

I don't have an answer to his question. I love being with Cameron but we both still have so much to learn about each other before we can even consider having a relationship.

I shrug. "I don't know. I just don't want this to be a hump and dump situation."

The minute the words leave my mouth, hurt flickers across his features and Cameron sits up, his scent no longer surrounding me and I sit up on my elbows.

"Is that what you think this is?" He asks me, his eyes scanning over my features and I'm speechless at how hurt he looks at my words- like they physically pained him. I don't respond and I see his face harden before he springs up from the couch angrily.

"Cameron." I call out, wanting to correct what I said. But it's no use.

He stalks into his room and slams his door shut before I can even reach him and I let out a sigh as I lean my forehead against his door. I feel guilt eat away at me slowly and I immediately want to take back what I said. Maybe Cameron didn't say what we are but I know he isn't using me.

I'm such an idiot.

I chew on my lip nervously and try and listen to see if I can hear anything on the other side of the door but it's quiet, completely silent.

"Cameron." I say softly, hoping he'll open the door for me. I reach for the doorknob and twist it, opening his door to his dark room. The only light being that from the stars. He's sat on his bed, his body crouched over while he rests his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry." I start softly. "I didn't mean what I said."

If he hears me, he doesn't make an effort to show it.

I gingerly step forward and look down at him. "But you can't blame me Cameron." I explain. "We don't exactly act like friends."

He shoots up suddenly and I take a step back. He turns around to face me, his features contorted into pain and his eyes desperate. "Lets just pretend like nothing happened alright?" He snaps harshly and I take a step back, feeling his words stab into my heart. I get that I've offended him but is he really going to want to pretend like nothing happened?

I kiss my teeth as I realize that this is exactly what I was afraid of. I found someone who makes me feel happy and secure and all they want to do is leave me. Just like the rest did.

I blink back the tears that brim my eyes.

"What? I thought we had something." I murmur, my voice shaky, and he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a humourless laugh.

"You don't want to have something with me, Harley. Trust me."

His voice is dark, dangerous and I narrow my eyes, not understanding where this is coming from. "Why would you say that?" I ask incredulously and he runs a hand through his hair. He looks panicked, like he doesn't know what to say and I want to reach out for him.

"Because you deserve a good person Harley. And I'm not a good person." When his eyes meet mine, I'm taken aghast at how  they're filled with hurt and wide with vulnerability. I've never seen Cameron look so emotionally naked before.

What the hell is he going on about?

"Why do you think that?" I ask softly and we both just stare at each other, his breathing harsh from trying to suppress his emotions. I'm expecting him to lash out at me, kick me out, anything, except for what he does.

Instead, he peels his shirt off and I frown at him. When he looks back up at me my eyes are already settled on a tattoo on his chest, just above his heart. It has a jaguar that seems to be roaring with roses around it, creating a beautiful tattoo. However, the words at the bottom make me grow uneasy. They're in Spanish and when my eyes meet his, they're so vulnerable that I feel unnerved. Along with the tattoo that I've never seen before is scars on his stomach. Bullet scars. And a few of them.

"Do you know why I came to America?" He asks, almost angrily, but I don't get a chance to respond when he continues. "Because I was running for my life, Harley.  You have no idea who I really am."

I feel myself freeze, not knowing what to say. I kiss my teeth as I stare at him, the starlight making his hair seem darker than usual and his clenched jaw sharper than it already is. His eyes are raw- like he doesn't want to tell me what he's thinking- and I find my breathing shallowing out.

He's scaring me.

"Then... tell me who you are." I manage to utter and he gulps. I'm not going to stand here and let him keep this pretense up.

"I'm Danté Barbosa- son of one of the most powerful cartel leaders in the world." He exhales, his voice low and icy and my eyebrows furrow considerably. I shake my head, trying to process the information. "I only came here to America to try and get out of the business." He explains, his voice on edge.

I don't remove my eyes from his and notice how tense his posture is, how clenched his jaw is, how pained his eyes are. It finally makes sense why he seems so calm within in the dangerous world of illegal racing, why the topic of drugs upsets him and why the most intimidating of people don't make Cameron even blink in their direction.

Because he used to be one of those intimidating people.

"I used to deal drugs Harley." He says, his voice low. "I allowed my father to kill my best friend- I've killed people." His voice is pained and I shake my head. "I'm a murderer."

His words ring in my head- I've killed people.

My eyes involuntarily rake over his body and I find myself frowning. Cameron doesn't look like he would ever take a life so I don't know how to comprehend what he's said. He can be so gentle and caring. Murderers aren't like that, are they?

"I-I don't understand." I stutter out. Is that why he never liked to speak about his friend- Carla? Is that why he has a tattoo of something she said? Because he's still reeling in the guilt of somehow being responsible for her death? How is he even responsible?

I shake my head to myself.

I have too many questions.

"A cartel has rules and our main one was that you could never leave, once you were a part of it you died a part of it." He explains with a shaky voice. "My father had two dealers who were high up in the hierarchy and they did their job well. It was Miguel and Santino." Cameron takes in a sharp breath, as if it's too painful to talk about but I cannot comfort him. I don't know what to say, think, feel or believe. So I simply stand and wait for him to continue.

"Santino worked for my father since I was a little boy and that's when I became friends with Carla." He grits his teeth, looking away for a second as if her name brings back old memories.

"Miguel and Santino both wanted out and since they were so high up in the cartel, they thought my father would have made an exception and let them. My father told me that I had to kill one of them." He gulps, his voice laced with emotion. "I couldn't kill Santino. I couldn't kill a man who acted like my father, I couldn't kill Carla's father. I knew she would never forgive me. So, I decided on Miguel. My parents believed that if I killed Miguel, Santino would get the message and stop trying to leave the cartel. I was young and all I had ever known was violence. It runs in my blood so I did it willingly. But since Carla was involved, I tried to get my parents to lay off- make an exception. They refused- they couldn't let their two most valuable players in the game go. It would make others think my father could be swayed.

"I did the job." He says and I gulp, feeling tears prick my eyes. "I killed Miguel. But then it was like I finally woke up. I finally realized I couldn't do it anymore- let my father control me to the point where I had to kill people so I went through to Carla's place afterwards. I wanted to talk, I needed to talk. But when I got there, I just had this feeling, this feeling that something wasn't right and when... when I got inside," He gulps, his eyes glossy and his face contorted into so much pain that I don't know what to do. He lets out a shaky breath and turns around, showing me his back as he leans over and tries to regain his composure. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

"Cameron," I eventually manage to push out.

"Santino was holding her body in his hands on their kitchen floor." His words are so soft, so fragile and pained, that if it weren't so quiet, I would never have heard them. "My father had sent someone else after her to threaten Santino. He killed her... and I should've known he would have." He shakes his head to himself. "I should have known..."

I shrink into myself, trying to understand what he's feeling. Trying to understand how it feels to live with the guilt of taking someone's life, how it feels to know your own father killed your best friend, how it feels to be part of a cartel.

I want to tell him I'm sorry but I know it's useless. It's not going to ease his guilt, or make him forget what he's done, or bring Carla back from the dead. I can't say anything to help him.

"How are you here then?" Is all I manage to say and I try to ignore the tear that has slipped out of my eye and the fact that I still have the audacity to ask him something like that when he feels so emotional. But how can I not? Standing before me is a convicted criminal and he isn't in jail.

"I couldn't look at my parents the same. I couldn't take another life, I couldn't keep living my life like that. And I kept wondering, I killed Miguel to warn Santino so why did they have to kill Carla? My father said it was a test of my loyalty. Like I hadn't already fucking killed people or helped feed addictions to fucking cocain and heroin addicts to prove my loyalty. But I think my father always knew Carla was my weakness and he decided to eliminate it. I couldn't love them." He shakes his head, his eyes staing back at me. "I couldn't love my parents who had killed the one person who meant the world to me. I wanted out but I knew they wouldn't make an exception for me either so I got inside information and tipped it off to a detective. I agreed to help him get my parents in prison in exchange for an alibi and protection. That's how I know Frank- he's the one who put my parents behind the bars and helped me come across with a new identity and all the necessary paperwork without anyone knowing. I was seventeen when I came so I stayed with Caleb and his parents until I was eighteen and moved out but not even they know what happened. They just think I came from a bad home." His eyes slide over my features.

"So here I am."

•••
Happy Easter! :)

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