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Great and Precious Things

Page 29

by Rebecca Yarros


  Tongues twined and bodies joined, we took each other to the brink, and when she hovered at the precipice with stuttered breaths, when sweat beaded on my skin and hers and my muscles tensed so hard, I thought they might snap, I slid my thumb between us and stroked her past the edge, until she screamed and pulled me over with her name on my lips in an explosion so shattering, I knew she’d irrevocably changed me.

  My chest still heaving, I cradled her to my body and rolled to the side as we struggled to recover. I lazily trailed my fingers down her arm as she kissed my chest, then my jaw.

  “You’re sure about that whole love thing, right?” she teased. “Because I’m pretty sure you just ruined me for anyone else.”

  I chuckled, reveling again that laughter came so easily with Willow. “Yeah, I’m sure. And good, because I’m never letting you out of this bed.”

  “Ever?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m okay with this plan.” She turned her head and found my forearm, then kissed the tattoo of her sketch. “What about food?”

  “I guess I’ll have to cook for you so you can keep up your strength.” I brushed my lips across her forehead. How had I lived this long without feeling this? Without her in my arms?

  “Say it again,” she whispered.

  I lifted my head so I could see her eyes. “I love you, Willow.”

  Her smile was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s nice, but I meant the cooking thing. I mean, that’s enough to turn a girl on.” She said it with such seriousness that I couldn’t help but bust out laughing.

  “Forget cooking,” I promised against her mouth. “I’ll just eat you.”

  “Promise?”

  I didn’t bother responding verbally. After all, she already knew I was bigger on action than words.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Willow

  “Hey, Willow,” Tillie said as she glanced up from the notepad she held. “Hey, Thea.”

  “Hi, Tillie,” we greeted almost in unison as we held down a booth at Bigg’s for lunch.

  “You two know what you want?”

  “Actually, we’re waiting for one other person,” Thea answered.

  Tillie looked at me. “Oh?”

  “Wait, he’s here! Hey, babe.” Thea tilted her cheek for her husband’s kiss before he slid into the booth next to her.

  Tillie’s smile drooped, and I almost laughed. Man, she had it bad for Cam, and Cam only had it bad for me. The thought had me smiling from ear to ear. It felt a hair shy of criminal to be this happy.

  We ordered quickly—it wasn’t like the menu changed often—and Tillie took off to put in our orders.

  “So Cam isn’t joining us?” Pat asked slowly, his arm wrapped around Thea’s shoulders.

  Danger, Will Robinson.

  “No,” I replied with a soft smile, because I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about him. “He has the psych eval for his dad’s case right now, and then he has to get up to the mine.” And I had this lunch, and maybe this lunch only, to get Pat on Cam’s side so we could start swaying public opinion. We being myself, Thea, and Charity, since Cam refused to play politics.

  In an election year in Alba, public opinion was everything.

  June twentieth had been circled on my calendar since Cam told me he’d been given a court date a few weeks ago. We were two weeks away, and the tension among the locals was about as thick as it could get.

  The tourists, of course, couldn’t have cared less. They came in waves, trickling in on weekdays like this, only to hit us by a thousand or more a day on the weekend. Business was good.

  “How’s that going?” Pat asked, his smile tight.

  “The case, the mine, or Cam?” This had the potential to get super awkward super fast.

  “Uhhh—” Pat suddenly found his napkin incredibly interesting.

  “Oh, stop it,” Thea chided but tugged his tie playfully. “Come on, Pat. That’s still Willow.”

  Pat rolled his eyes but finally met mine. “I’m sorry. It’s just…odd.”

  “The case, the mine, or Cam?” I teased him with a repeat.

  “All of it,” he answered truthfully, then let out an oof as Thea elbowed him. “What? We’ve been friends for long enough to tell her the truth, honey.”

  “We have,” I agreed as Tillie appeared with our drinks.

  We all thanked her, but she only responded directly to Pat as she moved to another table.

  “Well, then truthfully, I have a hard time with the guy. You know that.” He shrugged in apology.

  “He’s still pissed that Cam wouldn’t let him into the hot springs party his freshman year,” Thea jibed.

  Pat side-eyed his wife. “That’s not it. Look, Willow, you’ve been put through more than your fair share, and I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “And I appreciate the concern.” I swirled my straw around the ice cubes in my lemonade, making them clink. “But Cam isn’t going to hurt me.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward. “You’ve only been together for, what? A couple months? Cam isn’t known for being easy on anyone or anything.”

  I folded my hands on the table and looked him straight in the eye. “You were Sullivan’s best friend, so I get the protective bit, and I’ll let that one slide. That one, Pat.”

  He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more but then shut it instead.

  “I love Cam. Cam loves me. He has never once hurt me, unless you’re thinking about the summer he may have bruised my feelings.”

  Pat’s mouth set in a way that told me that was exactly what he’d been thinking about.

  “Trust me, I bruised his deeper. There’s a hell of a lot of backstory you’re not privy to, and no, I’m not going to tell you, because it’s none of your business.”

  “Never once hurt you? He saved you from the fire he started.” He said it gently, so I didn’t kick him under the table.

  “That was ruled accidental,” Thea hissed.

  “Sure, as in he accidentally knocked over a tiki torch while he was accidentally slipping it to Olivia Maxfield,” he countered.

  Yeah, I wasn’t about to go there.

  “Regardless of how that fire started, it was Sullivan who left me in the bunkhouse and Cam who ran in to get me out.”

  Pat startled, and I almost did, too. I’d never once laid blame at Sully’s feet for leaving me there.

  “I never thought of it like that.” He glanced away. “God, you must have been so pissed at Sully.”

  “Not really,” I answered honestly. “I was terrified for a minute, and the smoke was so thick…” I trailed off, feeling the heat of the flames ghost over my skin and dry out my mouth. “And honestly, if we hadn’t been asleep in that back room, we would have gotten out sooner. Sullivan would have gotten us out.”

  “But he only got himself out.” Pat ran his hands over his red hair. “And you didn’t beat the shit out of him after? I mean, I don’t even remember you being angry. You just said something about getting separated, not him leaving you.”

  I looked at Thea, and she lifted her eyebrows. There had been only one person truly privy to my feelings back then, and true to the code, she’d never spilled—even to her husband.

  “Honestly, the support beam came crashing down between us, and when he saw that I was on the other side, he said he would go for help. I hit the floor to get to the good air. I saw Sully’s feet make it to the door, and yeah, I was a little…disappointed. But I also knew Cam would come for me, even if it was only for Sully’s benefit. Deep down, I knew.”

  Pat blinked. “Willow, I love you. You know that. But you simply knew that the biggest asshole in Alba was going to risk his life to come help you? Cam never helped anyone…back then,” he amended
with a tilt of his head.

  “I knew.” My shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There are three things you can count on when it comes to Cam.” I held my fingers up as I began to list them. “One, his family is first. He always cleaned up Sullivan’s messes so nothing bad ever stuck to him.”

  “Hey,” he snapped; then his focus went hazy for a second, as if he was thinking. “Huh. Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

  “Two, he’ll self-destruct at the first opportunity. And three, he shows up for me. I didn’t always see it back then, but it’s true. There was no chance that he wasn’t coming in after me if he knew I was in there.”

  Pat leaned back, absorbing what I said.

  “Cam has saved my life four times and has always been there when I’ve needed him.”

  “Okay, but just think about this for a second, please, and don’t hate me for asking. Did you ever stop to think that the only reason you were in danger in the first place—at least as a kid—was because you were around Cam?”

  I waited his requested second only because he was married to my best friend and I’d loved his. “No, Pat. I get that you might not understand this, but I’m his, he’s mine, and that’s not going to change. Ever. And I guess you have to choose between joining the rest of the old Alba gossips at the barbershop or opening your mind about Cam. Remember just how much Sullivan loved him. And no, he didn’t get Sully killed. By the time Cam got there, he’d already been shot. That”—I held up two fingers—“is now two, because that’s none of your business, either, but I know how much you miss Sully.”

  Pat swallowed, and after what might have been the longest minute of my life, he finally nodded. “How’s the mine coming along?”

  Thea visibly relaxed.

  I took the olive branch and ran. “Good. They’re on track to have the 1880 tunnel open all the way to the third ventilation shaft by the Fourth of July. Cam figured that one would be the biggest draw. The rest of that tunnel and the other two will have to wait for next season.”

  “That’s incredible. The Historical Society council was thrilled when they heard there would be a soft opening this year.”

  “By thrilled, he means the clapping exceeding golf level,” Thea added as Tillie arrived with the food.

  She juggled the plates with a dexterity I envied, then looked at me after setting my burger and fries in front of me. “You sure like the burgers and fries, huh, Willow?”

  “Yep.” I reached for the ketchup. There was zero chance I was letting her get under my skin.

  “I was just thinking it must be hard to stay in shape, seeing as you sit all day with your art stuff, right?” Her smile was faker than her eyelashes. “It must add up quick.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about Willow.” Thea chuckled. “She gets plenty of workout time. At night. At Cam’s. You know…with Cam.”

  My teeth sank into my bottom lip to keep a straight face, but Pat didn’t bother hiding his sputtering laugh. Progress. A few weeks ago, he would have seethed at Thea’s implications.

  Tillie gave Thea a look that could have curdled milk.

  “True,” I jumped in for fear that Tillie would come across the table at my friend. “And in fact, I was heading up to see him after this. Would you mind putting in an order now so it will be hot when we’re ready?”

  Still glaring at Thea, Tillie took out her notepad and pen. “What would he like?”

  “Let’s do a double-bacon cheeseburger, medium, with avocado, ketchup, lettuce, and tomato. Oh, and a salted caramel shake, too. That would be great!” I smiled up at her.

  She clicked her tongue. “You sure about that last one? I’m pretty sure Cam likes chocolate fudge shakes.”

  “Oh, he does,” I assured her. “That’s for me. I have to stock up on my calories so I can burn them off later, right?”

  “Right.” She spun and left.

  “And the case?” Pat asked, clearly making an effort.

  “Not sure. Art is pretty adamant about getting the DNR.” I started in on my food.

  “On the days he’s lucid?” Pat doctored his own burger with mustard, but his tone told me he’d definitely been hanging out at the barbershop.

  “Yes, Pat. On the days he’s lucid. He called Cam and asked for his help, which is the whole reason Cam moved back. Plus, after his hospitalization, he’s pretty determined.”

  Pat chewed slowly and nodded.

  “He even went with Walt to get a DNR tattoo across his chest,” Thea added. “Xander flipped his lid.”

  Pat seemed to mull it over. “He did say something about it not being legally recognized,” he admitted. “That it was more his dad having a hard time coping with ending up on that ventilator than actually wanting the DNR.”

  “Trust me, babe. If a man gets that tattooed on his chest, he’s serious.” Thea popped a fry into her mouth and nodded.

  “But still, Xander’s been taking care of him for years. This whole mess feels like Cam wants…” Pat sighed at his burger. “I can’t even say it.”

  “Wants what?” I prompted.

  “Wants his dad to die,” he finished in a whisper. “Everyone knows they don’t get along, and it just feels…wrong. He’s only fifty-eight.”

  Holy crap, this was what we were up against. Alba seriously thought Cam just wanted to get rid of Arthur because they didn’t like each other?

  “You’re right. Art’s only fifty-eight, Pat. That’s only thirty years older than we are right now, and he’s asking to determine what happens to his own body. He’s asking Cam to go against everyone in this town, including his own brother, because he wants a say in whether or not he ends up strapped to a hospital bed on a ventilator again. And if he didn’t have Alzheimer’s, no one would think twice about what he’s asking. You can get a DNR today if you want one, but he can’t, because fifty percent of the time he can’t depend on his brain. So what, the other days—when he can—those don’t matter?”

  “They should,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, they should. But everyone is making this about Cam and Xander, not Art. And trust me, if Cam wanted Arthur to die, fighting a legal battle to then wait it out doesn’t really strike me as his style.”

  The bell rang as the door opened, and I saw Simon enter in my peripherals.

  I jumped out of the booth, and he sighed as he saw me. Oh no. That was a sad sigh. “Simon, is everything okay? I thought you were supposed to be with Art and the doc for the eval.”

  “I’m glad I ran into you. Art isn’t lucid today.” He shook his head slowly.

  My stomach sank. “How not lucid? Like it’s 1998? Or—”

  “Or the psychologist was a claim jumper coming to take the Rose Rowan?” he offered, wincing.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh.” He nodded.

  “But it took weeks to get in with that guy. What does this do to the case?” Cam was going to be devastated.

  “He said he has one opening the week before court, so we’re taking it. But if the same thing happens, then Cam’s at a real disadvantage.”

  He’d lose.

  “Okay. Thanks. Did you want to come join us?” I motioned back to the table and saw Tillie drop off Cam’s food.

  “No, I’m grabbing a shake to go. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I slid into the booth so I could get money from my purse.

  “Everything okay?” Thea asked.

  “Just stuff with Art’s case.” I took out a twenty and put it on the table. “I’d better go find Cam.”

  “Okay, honey.”

  “Wait,” Pat said as I slid toward the end of the booth. He took a deep breath, then another, and finally looked over at me. “Yesterday, at the Historical Society council meeting, some people were talking.”

  Since there were only nine council members, that narrowed it down.

&n
bsp; “They were all getting coffee. The meeting hadn’t started. And someone brought up Art and the case, and of course Xander was pretty mum about it. He’s never going to shit-talk Cam in front of other people. But one member may have suggested that it was impossible not to take into account the history and character of the person bringing the lawsuit.”

  I stilled. “My dad?”

  “No.” Pat emphatically shook his head. “But your dad agreed. And then said it’s not just the past that a judge would have to take into account in that hypothetical situation but the current decisions that person makes.”

  My chest tightened.

  “And after someone mentioned a certain fight that happened a few weeks ago on opening day…” Shit. “Well, another member asked—”

  “Oh my God, Pat, spit it out. We all know who’s on the damned council,” Thea hissed.

  Pat leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “Hall asked your dad if he’d hold it against Cam that he was dating you. Except he didn’t use the word…‘date.’”

  I cringed. “He said no, right? Please tell me he said no.”

  “He said that dating you didn’t exactly show the kind of sound judgment he’d need to win the case. Especially given that Cam is prone to violence around you.”

  My blood turned to ice, then flash-boiled. “He said what?”

  “Shh!” Pat looked to see that no one heard me. “They can’t know I told you. We have a what-happens-in-Vegas disclosure. I’ll lose my council seat.”

  Cam was going to lose his case…because of me.

  “I have to go.” I grabbed Cam’s burger and my shake, then paused at the foot of the table. “Thank you, Pat. Both of you.”

  Rage and disbelief spun in my brain like a pinwheel, the emotions overlapping each other. I put Cam’s lunch on the passenger seat and my milkshake in the cupholder. Then I stared out the windshield with my hands on the steering wheel.

  I could break up with Cam. That was obviously what Dad wanted. But maybe it was deeper than that. Maybe he honestly thought that being with me showed a lack of character. Why? Because I was his dead brother’s ex-girlfriend? Heck, that would have been the simplest label to slap on us.

 

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