A throat clearing breaks through the tension in the air. “Okay, I think it’s time you all leave. I need to attend to Abigail, and I can’t do that with you here,” Cam’s cousin says with authority.
“I’m staying,” Drew proclaims.
“No, you’re not.” Jane beats me to the punch line. She kisses me on the cheek before jumping off the bed. “Abby doesn’t need an audience.”
The others leave the room, one by one, but Cam makes no move to exit.
“Out,” Drew says, eyeing him warily and jabbing his finger toward the door.
“Cam’s staying,” I supply. I don’t want to be left alone with a stranger even if he seems nice, and Cam’s the only one I don’t feel embarrassed around.
Go figure.
“Why does he get to stay, and I don’t?!” Drew asks in a snippy tone.
“Because he didn’t stand by while they humiliated me and do nothing!” I shout.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t magically make everything right, Drew. You’re my brother. My twin. The only real family I have. You’re supposed to always have my back. And you. Did. Nothing.”
His chest heaves, and he looks like he might cry. Yet, it changes nothing.
Anger still simmers in my veins. I avert my eyes, unable to look at him anymore, and my gaze instantly finds Cam’s. He stares at me, and it’s like I’m properly seeing him for the first time. His eyes betray sympathy and respect and so many other things I can’t figure out.
A low growl emits from the back of Drew’s throat, and I see the instant the pieces align in his brain. “It was him, wasn’t it?” He glares at Cam. “I don’t fucking believe it!”
“What’s he talking about?” the cousin asks.
“Nothing,” Cam and I answer in unison, sharing a conspiratorial look.
“It wasn’t Cam,” I say, hating that I’m lying to my brother’s face, but the truth is, I don’t trust him any longer. Don’t trust any of them. “He only arrived here a few weeks ago, and I told you this happened months back.”
Drew stares at me for so long, unmoving, his eyes unflinching, he might as well have turned to stone. Finally, he snaps out of it. “If I find out you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not,” I lie, cutting across him. “And you need to go. I ache everywhere, and I need pain meds.”
“I’ll be back later. Call anytime, day or night, if you need me.” I don’t reply to that, because, right now, Drew’s the last person I’d rely on. “I love you,” he says from the doorway, his tone and his facial expression betraying his fear.
He knows he’s messed up.
That he might have lost me for good.
He’s waiting for my usual response, and the fear on his face grows with every passing silent moment.
“I love you too,” I eventually answer, almost choking on the lump in my throat. I might be disappointed and pissed at him, but I’ll always love my brother. For so long, it was just him and me, and while I won’t ever forget how he failed me when I needed him the most, it doesn’t diminish my love.
Drew pulls the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with Cam and his cousin. “Can you at least sit down,” I say, looking up at Cam. “You’re making me nervous looming over me with that perpetual scowl on your face.”
His cousin attempts to smother his laughter with a cough, but he’s fooling no one. Cam grabs the chair at his desk and pulls it over beside the bed. “Happy?”
“Delirious,” I deadpan, jerking as cool gloved fingers unexpectedly touch the inside of my arm.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” his cousin says. “I just want to put a line in and get a drip going as it’s the fastest way to administer morphine.”
“How’d you get your hands on that?” I ask.
He taps the side of his nose, smiling. “There isn’t much you can’t acquire with the right contacts and cash.” True. I’ve seen that my whole life. “Have you had any issues with IVs before?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Good. I’ll make this quick and painless. And I’m Maverick, by the way, although everyone calls me Rick.”
“Maverick Anderson?” I ask, watching as he swabs my arm and applies a tourniquet.
His eyes flash to Cam’s for a second. “Yes. You remember me?”
I nod, wincing at the small pinch where the needle impacts my skin. “You used to pull my hair and try to dunk me under the water in the pool.”
Cam snorts, rolling his eyes at his cousin, and I automatically seek the framed photo I noticed when I was snooping in Cam’s room before, but it’s missing. Looking at Maverick now, I’m almost certain he was one of the guys in the picture. “How are your three brothers?” I ask, wondering if he’ll take the bait.
“They’re good,” Rick cryptically replies while he removes the needle, fitting a tube into the catheter that leads to the bag elevated on a stand beside my bed. “I’ll tell them you said hi,” he adds, applying tape to my arm to secure it in place. He flicks the tube, watching to ensure the medication is flowing through.
“You do that,” I murmur, sinking deeper into the bed. Cool liquid seeps into my veins, and a contented sigh escapes my lips.
“That won’t take long to work, and you shouldn’t feel as much pain. It’s important to eat regularly and get plenty of sleep,” Maverick adds. “I’ll alternate the bag to administer fluids, but still drink lots of water.”
“Thank you, and you’re forgiven.” He stops what he’s doing, looking at me with a lopsided grin. “For tormenting me as a kid,” I confirm.
“You know I only did that because I secretly had a little crush on you.” He waggles his brows, and his brown eyes glint mischievously.
“I might’ve had a little crush on you too,” I murmur, smiling.
He leans in closer, slanting a look at Cam as he says. “You’re even hotter now you’re all grown up. I think I feel another crush coming on.”
Cam loudly clears his throat, muttering asshole under his breath, and I laugh, instantly whimpering as pain slices across my rib cage. “Fuck. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”
“You need me to look at your ribs?” Maverick asks, all trace of flirtatiousness gone.
“The asshole doc strapped them up, so I think I’m good for now.”
“And are you hurting anywhere else?” he quietly asks.
This is so embarrassing, but I need to heal, because the longer I’m out of action, the more at risk I am. “I’m a little sore down below,” I whisper. “His nail cut me…”
Cam stands, pacing the room with his knuckle stuffed in his mouth.
“Time is the best healer for that,” Maverick says, watching Cam closely. “But warm baths will help too. And no sex for a while.”
I splutter. “Yeah, I need no convincing. Having sex with your cousin got me into this mess in the first place.” Shock splays across Maverick’s face, and Cam stops pacing. “Oops. Was I not supposed to mention that?” Cam’s entire body is rigidly stiff, and a muscle ticks in his jaw. I stifle a yawn as my eyelids grow heavy. “I thought guys bragged about stuff like that.”
“Well, Cam didn’t kiss and tell,” Maverick says in a clipped voice, packing up his bag. “Which is a little weird,” he adds, as I drift into unconsciousness. “Because it’s not how he usually rolls.”
That’s the last thing I hear before I plunge into peaceful, dark depths.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A gentle rustling disturbs my sleep sometime later, and I sense someone in the room. “Cam?” I whimper, trying to force my eyes to open, but they won’t cooperate. Eerie silence surrounds me, and all the tiny hairs lift on the back of my neck. I attempt to move my head, to force myself to wake up, but dark tendrils reach out for me, pulling me back under.
“Abby.” A soft voice pricks my ears as a gentle touch brushes across my cheek. “Wake up, Abby. You need to eat.”
I blink my eyes open, staring into warm amber-flecked brown eyes. “I brought y
ou a tray,” Cam says, and I sit upright, yawning as I fix the covers across my lap. Cam places the tray down, and it’s laden with food. Two different eggs, bacon, toast, waffles, and a massive bowl of chopped fresh fruit with a pot of Greek yogurt. “I didn’t know what you like, so I made a variety,” he says, flopping into the chair by my bed.
“You did all this?” My brows lift in surprise. He nods, looking a little sheepish, which is an odd look on him. He’s dressed casually today, and he looks hotter than ever in his gray sweats and fitted white T-shirt. “Thank you.” I tuck my hair behind my ears before tasting the scrambled eggs. They’re perfectly cooked. Light and fluffy, just how I like them. “This is so good.” I shovel another forkful into my mouth. “You want some?” I ask, in between eating. “I’ll never finish all this.”
“I already ate, and it’s okay to leave what you don’t want.”
Silence engulfs us as I eat, and it’s weird to be in this setting with Cam without either of us baiting the other. “Where is everyone?” I inquire, picking at the bowl of fruit.
“Lauder and Hunt have gone to school. We figured it’d look suspicious if all of us were absent. They’ll spread the news I’ve gone to visit my father in New York for a couple days, so I can stay here with you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I protest, sipping my orange juice. “I’m sure I can manage fine.”
He eyes me quietly for a few beats. “Do you always push people away when they’re trying to help?”
I shrug. “Since my mom died, I’ve learned to rely on myself. Apart from Drew and Jane, and more recently Xavier, there’s been no one who cared.” I’m not seeking sympathy. Just stating facts.
“About Xavier.” He leans forward, and a woodsy, citrusy smell tickles my nostrils.
My skin prickles, and I’m instantly on guard. “What about him?” My tone is intentionally harsh as I set the tray aside.
“Have you considered he might’ve been the one to betray you?”
“No,” I lie. “And I haven’t exactly ruled you out.” I’m not being truthful, because I pretty much have ruled him out, but his insinuation it’s Xavier pisses me off, even if I’ve had niggling doubts myself.
“I didn’t do this. We didn’t do this.” He drills earnest eyes at me. “I know I threatened it, but I would never have followed through.”
I believe him because I see the truth written across his face. “Why threaten me at all then?”
“Because I needed something to manipulate you with, and that was the obvious answer.”
“Because you wanted my help to nail my father?” He nods, but I still get the sense I don’t have the full picture. “Why not just ask me for it?”
“Because we didn’t realize you hated him. That you had your own reasons for wanting to take him down.”
I mull it over in my head, and that stacks up, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing something vital. Something that is staring me in the face, but I can’t see it. “It was all for nothing anyway, because I doubt I’ll be able to help any longer. I’ll probably have to leave town before my father murders me for messing up his plans.”
“We won’t let that happen, and you can stay here for as long as you need to.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He drops his head, looking at the floor, and I wait him out for a few minutes. “Because it’s the right thing to do. Because we misjudged you. Because you’re not the enemy?” I don’t know if he’s making statements or questioning himself.
“You’ve been a complete asshole to me. Why should I believe a word that comes out of your mouth now?”
“You shouldn’t,” he says, surprising me. “And I expect no less of you, but we’ll prove it to you. That’s my promise.” I lie flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, wondering when my life became such a spectacular clusterfuck. “Starting with finding out who did this to you,” he adds.
I turn on my side, sliding my hand underneath my face. “I don’t think Xavier did this.”
“But?” He quirks a brow.
“But I’ve learned not to completely trust anyone in my circle.” I sigh, and my heart throbs at the thought he could be behind this.
“Don’t feel bad,” he says, as if he can read my mind. “It’s smart to think like that, and until we question him, you can’t know it wasn’t him.”
“What do you mean we?” I push up into a sitting position, ignoring the pain the movement produces, and narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll be the one talking to Xavier. He’s my contact. My friend.”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he says, rolling his eyes. “We knew you’d want to be there, so that’s why he’s coming here tonight. We can grill him together.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll speak to him alone. He’ll just clam up if you guys are interrogating him.”
“Christ, you’re so fucking stubborn.” His eyes flash darkly.
“You’re one to talk,” I retort.
He stands, shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath. “Fine. You talk to him first, but if you don’t get answers, we’re taking over.”
“Agreed. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I smile sweetly at him, laughing when he flips me off.
“I’ll run you a bath, if you’re finished eating.”
“I am,” I say, glancing at the tray of barely touched food. “Sorry, but I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“It’s fine.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Stay put, and don’t move.” With that parting instruction, he stomps off into the en suite bathroom.
Grabbing my bag from the floor by the bed, I rummage through the contents, extracting my cell and removing one of my contraceptive pills. I swallow it with the remainder of my orange juice as I swipe through my messages and missed calls, cursing when I spot all the abusive texts from Trent.
“What is it?” Cam asks, lounging against the bathroom doorway.
“Trent being his usual psycho self.” I flip the covers back and swing my legs over the side of the bed, moaning as pain batters me from different angles.
“Take these.” Cam empties two pills from a bottle by my bed. “Rick had to return to Harvard, and he didn’t trust Lauder enough to leave spare bags of morphine, so he got this prescription filled for you instead. He said to take two every four to six hours.”
I take the pills, ignoring how my heart flutters and my skin tingles when our fingers touch. Cam hands me a bottle of water, never taking his eyes off me as I swallow. His eyes drift momentarily to my bare legs, and I’d almost forgotten my state of undress. His hot gaze wanders the length of my legs, and need pulses, thick and heavy, between my thighs. “Why didn’t he trust Jackson?” I blurt, needing to deflect the growing charge in the air.
Cam slants me one of his special trademark smirks. “Haven’t you noticed his propensity for getting stoned? Jackson likes to amble through life in a blissed-out state of numbness. None of us trusted him not to sneak in and try to siphon some of your morphine while you were sleeping.”
His words spark a memory, and I wonder if it was Jackson I heard rummaging around in my room in the early hours of the morning. I don’t say a word to Cam, tucking it away in a mental box to ask Jackson later.
“What nightmares is he hiding from?” I ask as I attempt to stand. My ribs protest, and I cry out in pain. Cam scoops me up carefully as if I weigh nothing, and the feel of his skin against my legs elevates my desire to new levels.
I’m so fucking screwed with this guy. Especially if he acts nice to me.
“The pain of his sister’s death,” Cam quietly confirms as he enters the bathroom and sets my feet on the ground. Steam fills the room, along with the fragrant scent of jasmine from whatever he put in the water. “You need help to undress?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’ve got this,” I lie, wondering how much darker my soul is after all the lies I’ve told recently.
He turns around, facing the door and leaning aga
inst the wall. “I won’t look, but I’m not leaving yet, in case you need me.”
Tears sting my eyes at his obvious concern, and if I thought my head was messed up over this guy before, it’s not a patch on the chaos in my mind right now. I think I preferred it when he was being cruel and deliberately hurting me, because I knew where I stood. Now, everything’s in a tailspin, and I hate feeling so mixed up.
I tug my tank up over my head and toss it to the floor before angling my head around, wondering how I’ll remove the bandage to bathe. I stretch a hand around my back, to where it’s pinned in place, but I can’t reach. “I need help with my bandage.”
He turns around and walks toward me, keeping his eyes fixed on my face. Sweeping my messy hair to one side, he works the bandage off from behind, his hands brushing my outstretched arms as he unwinds the gauze from my torso. Heat floods my body and creeps up my neck as memories swarm my mind.
I remember his hands roaming my curves, his lips gliding against my sensitive skin, and the feel of his cock as he thrust inside me, and my legs buckle underneath me.
“Woah. You okay?” he asks in a deep, gruff tone, his arm sliding around my waist. I was so lost in thought I didn’t even realize he’d fully removed the bandage.
“I’m fine,” I croak, resisting the urge to lean back into him. “Could you unclasp my bra?” I quietly ask.
His fingers brush against my skin as he deftly unhooks my bra, letting the straps slip off my shoulders. I let it fall to the ground and kick it away so it doesn’t get wet. Placing one hand on the edge of the tub, I attempt to pull my panties down, but my ribs throb when I bend over, and the effort is too much.
“I won’t look,” he says, moving around in front of me before I’ve asked for his help. He looks off to the side as he hooks his thumbs in either side of my panties and draws them down my legs until I’m standing butt naked in front of him. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s seen me naked, but I’m covered in bruises and cuts, and I don’t want him to see me like this.
He stands, continuing to avert his gaze, and tears spring forth again.
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