Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(38)

“And mentally?”

There was a slippery slope if ever she’d been on one. Cami was unsure of where to start. She took a deep breath, watching Diane’s eyes assess her.

“You can tell me anything you would like to. It doesn’t have to be just about the tornado or your experience. We can just chat about how you are feeling today.” Her words were calming. “That might be a good place to start.”

“I’m feeling anxious,” she blurted out. “Always anxious.”

“About?”

“Everything. About what happened. About what’s going to happen. All of it.”

Diane nodded, waiting for Cami to continue. When she didn’t, she prompted her. “Is there one thing in particular that seems to drive the anxiousness?”

“The weather. Anytime it storms. I can’t stop myself from obsessing about it.”

“That’s a very logical reaction to what you went through.” It felt good to hear someone say that she was justified in her phobia.

“What you’ve developed is astraphobia. Or more specifically, Lilapsophobia—a fear of tornadoes.” Diane’s words became a soft murmur in Cami’s ear as she envisioned herself displaying all of the reactions and emotions she was describing. She’d experienced them all. At home. At school. A few weeks ago in the middle of the mall when she locked herself in the bathroom next to the food court for thirty minutes. “Constantly checking for weather alerts. Hiding under the bed or in a closet. Acting erratic, inconsolable, etc...”

Yes.

Yes.

And yes.

“How do you feel when you learn that a thunderstorm is going to happen?”

“Helpless,” Cami said with heavy sigh. “Completely helpless. Even when, logically, I know I’m safe.”

“Have you found anything that helps you keep your mind off of the weather? A hobby? Exercise? Or something else that draws your focus?”

Maybe. She shrugged.

“There are a few breathing exercises that you can try when you become upset or feel a panic attack coming on,” Diane explained. “Meditation also helps.”

Cami nodded, knowing that what she was offering was professional advice, but the only thing she could think of—the only person she could think of—was Brantley Cooper. She’d found a way to distract herself all right. A denim-and-plaid-wrapped distraction with the softest damn lips she’d ever kissed.

“What interests do you have other than the weather, Cameron?”

“Umm...” ‘Making out with farm boys didn’t seem like a solid answer. A stark realization hit Cami about as hard as the root cellar door had. “I don’t really have any. None. I used to do a lot of things—social committee, pageants, hanging out with friends—but after the storm, everything seemed so...trivial. You know?”

“How so?”

“It was all shallow. They were all shallow,” she said, referring to her former friends. “I guess I’m waiting for some grand sign from the universe about what my life is supposed to mean. Like, I want to do something more with my time than just shop and look pretty.”

“It’s common for people to reassess their lives when they live through a traumatic event. When was the last time that you didn’t feel like what you were doing was meaningless? The last time that you were truly happy?”

“A while ago,” she said, knowing that the next words out of her mouth were going to sting because she’d yet to say them. “Before Kyle died.”





“I was thinking maybe we could spend your spring break at Grand Lake,” her father said once the three of them were settled at the dinner table.

Christmas break had been a nightmare. Her mom had stayed locked in her room most of the time, EJ had practically camped out at the ridge, and her father had growled at everyone to try and at least act like human beings. She wasn’t surprised that he wanted to get the heck out of that house during the next break, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him play head of household as if he’d never left.

She stared at her plate, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her father was back and her brother was gone forever. And her mother… Well, her mother was present, though only in the physical sense. She glanced over at where her mom sat with slumped shoulders meticulously moving vegetables around on her plate.

“Ella Jane? I asked you a question.” Her father’s glare was firmly attached to her.

Ella Jane took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I don’t really care,” she said through gritted teeth. She’d been trying so hard to just avoid him, to avoid the confrontations that caused her pain and anger to spill over onto her family. But her dad wouldn’t allow that. “To be honest, I couldn’t make myself care what we do for spring break if my life depended on it.”

“Care to tell us what your problem is, Ella Jane? Because I thought you’d be happy to get out of town for a while.”

“Will your mistress be joining us? If so, please rent a larger cabin. I didn’t mind sharing a room with Kyle when we were kids, but I’d rather not share one with her if it’s all the same to you.”

Her dad’s tone turned warning. “Is that your idea of a joke?”

“Is this yours?” EJ heard her voice rising. “Kyle dies, so you come home to play the hero? Newsflash, Dad. He hated you. He said you were a coward that walked out on his family and that a real man would never do that. You know what the real joke is?”