by Jenika Snow
I was naked, my body pleasantly sore, my inner thighs sticky from Cameron’s release just last night. There was another knock, and then I finally called out for them to enter.
Damien pushed the door open, his focus trained on my face before he glanced down at the ground. “Cameron has business to attend to, but he instructed me to inform you that after breakfast, and once you’re dressed, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
God, my throat was so dry, and this anxiety started to consume me, pulling me further under, making me feel uncomfortable. “I won’t see him before I leave?”
I hated that I felt so small, so vulnerable right now. I loathed the fact that Cameron made me feel like this and was either too afraid or too much of a bastard to face me himself. I knew I wasn’t hiding my emotions well, knew I was glaring. But Damien, being the stone statue he was, said nothing.
“I’ll be downstairs waiting when you’re ready.” He looked at me, and if he was the type of man to show any emotion, I might have thought he felt sorry for me. Yeah, I felt sorry for me too. I’d let my emotions get the best of me, allowed them to hold on tight and not let go.
And then he left me alone, and I sat there staring at the tray of food. I would not let this control me. I couldn’t, because if I did, there would be no one there to help me out of the hole when it was all said and done.
I sat alone in the back of the car, the scent of leather filling my head, but there was also the slight aroma of the cologne Cameron wore. I hadn’t seen him when I left the room and met Damien downstairs, but then again, I hadn’t expected to. He was a coward, if a killer could be one. He’d fucked me last night, even held me as I fell asleep, but come morning he’d been gone. He hadn’t even given me the decency or respect to say good-bye.
We entered the city and I stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by, seeing the people oblivious to anything that wasn’t right in front of them. I assumed Damien was taking me back to the apartment building, but I didn’t want to go there.
“Stop,” I said loudly enough I was sure Damien heard. “Pull in here.” He didn’t question me, just pulled into the driveway and found a parking spot.
For a second I stared at the run-down motel, watching the few people loiter on the top balcony, their cigarettes hanging from their mouths, their hair and clothes greasy. I was sure drug deals, even some prostitution went on here. Before I could get out, Damien was climbing out of the car and opening the back door for me.
I was thankful he kept his mouth shut, didn’t hassle me on the shithole place I wanted to be dropped off at. But the little I had was at the apartment, a place I didn’t want to go back to, but would probably end up having to in order to at least survive until the next day.
“This is for you.” Damien handed me a small black bag. “Inside you’ll find a few changes of clothes from your stay at the house, some money to allow you to leave the city, and this.” He gave me a small slip of paper. A number was written on it, and I wondered if it was Cameron’s or Damien’s. I didn’t ask.
“You’re free, safe, and have enough money in that bag to start a life someplace else, someplace less shitty.” I stared at the number, listening to Damien’s voice, thinking about Cameron.
“He didn’t want to say good-bye to me,” I found myself saying, not sure if I was asking myself or Damien.
“He had business to attend to.”
I glanced up at Damien then. I knew I was just a payment, a debt owed because Cameron had helped me, solved my problem. It was what it was, although I hated the fact I couldn’t see him. I fucking hated the fact I found myself falling for my dark protector, the man willing to kill to make sure I was okay.
“If you’re in trouble, you call that number and someone will be there.”
Instead of saying something, making a fool out of myself, I just nodded.
I took a step back, watched Damien get into the car, and as he drove away I couldn’t help but take in a stuttering breath. I realized in that moment that before Cameron I’d just been surviving. With him I’d been living. But he’d made his point clear, stayed away, took from me what he wanted, and because of my need to survive, to be a fighter, I turned away from the disappearing car, faced the motel, and tried to think about the future.
I wouldn’t lie…it looked pretty damn dark.
Chapter 20
One week later
I wanted to think that the dark SUVs I’d seen were Cameron looking out for me, hiding inside, watching me, unable to just ignore what we’d shared for those fourteen days. But I wasn’t such a fool to think I meant more than a warm hole to relieve himself in.
No, it was more than that. I was his, only his. He made that clear at the party, when he touched me, stroked me from the inside out. He told me as much when he whispered filthy words in my ear as he thrust deep and hard into my body.
I’d found myself back at the shitty apartment, packing up what little I had owned. There wasn’t much I wanted to take with me, nothing of great value or importance. But for this last week I’d been trying to push forward, to forget about everything and anything that had to do with Cameron, with my stay in his home.
I couldn’t shake him, couldn’t get rid of the image of him, of the memory of how he felt when he touched me.
I shoved the last piece of clothing into my backpack, stepped back, and stared at it on my bed. The small black bag Damien had given me before he left sat beside it, the money and phone number within it. Truth was I’d hoped Cameron would come for me, would demand I go with him, stay with him…never leave. And I wouldn’t have.
I wanted him, desired that free feeling I had, that moment of bliss where I wasn’t wondering where I was going, where I was headed. Truth was I didn’t know where I was going, not even now, not even with a bag full of money and an empty road ahead of me.
I heard the honk of the taxi I’d called downstairs waiting for me, and I grabbed my things and headed outside.
But as I stood there, staring at the idling yellow car, the rust around the edges dark, almost like blood under the setting sun, the worry and pain claimed me. I rubbed at my chest, the idea of leaving, of not telling Cameron what I wanted, who I wanted, wearing down on me so heavily I couldn’t even breathe.
“You coming or what?” the taxi driver shouted out the open passenger window. I took a step toward it, but froze, finding myself shaking my head. I couldn’t leave without at least telling Cameron how I felt, how he made me feel.
“No,” I whispered, but when I heard the driver curse, I knew he’d heard me just fine. He sped off, his tires screeching out, the name he’d called me right before he took off ringing in my head. I grabbed the cheap pay-for-minutes phone out of my backpack, took the slip of paper out as well, and stared at both of them. I knew that I should have just left, said good-bye to those two weeks, to the shit life I’d allowed myself to live. But I was still here and wanting to be truthful for once in my life.
If he wanted me, wouldn’t he have stayed, made me be with him? If he craved me the way I do him, wouldn’t he have come for me by now? Maybe he wants nothing to do with me. Was I just a convenience, a person to find his pleasure in?
Or could he be doing this, staying away, to protect me?
It was that latter thought, the little nagging in the back of my head, that had me dialing the number Damien had given me. I stood there, feeling cold all of a sudden, nervous, my hands shaking, my breath coming out hard and fast. And when the ringing stopped, I swore my heart did too.
“I need Cameron,” I said, not sure what the future held in me making this decision, but wanting to find out either way. I needed to.
I stayed in front of my apartment building, the man on the other end not a voice I recognized. But he’d told me to stay put, that they knew where I was, and someone would come here to pick me up. I didn’t exactly know what my problem was, and for all I knew they assumed it was bad if I was calling them. But I’d have to be honest, tell them there was
no “problem,” not in the sense they were probably thinking.
I had to see Cameron again, even if this was the last, the only time. I had to admit my feelings, that I felt lost without him, that being his, letting him consume me in the way he had, was what I needed in my life. I wanted to think that I was prepared if he pushed me aside, that he might cut me deep with his words, but truth was I probably wasn’t.
It had been ten minutes since I’d made the call, and I saw a dark SUV turn the corner and come my way. My heart raced at the sight of it, and I knew my anticipation and nervousness might have been considered fear by looking at me. The vehicle came to a stop beside the curb in front of me, and the driver’s side door opened. I watched Damien come around, his focus intense on me. I also noticed he kept scanning the area. He opened the back door for me, and I saw long, muscular legs covered in expensive material come into view.
Cameron.
I climbed into the back of the SUV, the door shutting behind me, my eyes needing to adjust to the change in light. And when they did I stared at Cameron, who sat beside me. He stared at me, his dark gaze locked on me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
“Take us to the property, Damien,” Cameron said without breaking his focus on me. The car started moving, and I settled back. I didn’t know what property he was referring to, but I didn’t really want to do this with an audience.
It was me who ended up breaking the eye contact and looking out the window. I don’t know how long we drove for, but it was done in silence, the air thick, the temperature hot. Maybe twenty minutes or so later we finally pulled onto a dirt road, staying on that for another ten minutes, and then stopping. The headlights illuminated the dilapidated house that stood in the distance, trees sporadically around the open property.
“Where are we?” When he didn’t respond, I glanced at him.
“A piece of property I own. I come out here to meet with less than superior clients at times. I need this for privacy.”
Yeah, I could see that. It was deserted, out in the middle of nowhere, and I had to assume if someone needed to use a gun, there would be no one around to hear it.
“You said you’re in trouble.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. I glanced at Damien on instinct, because truthfully I wanted this to be a private conversation between Cameron and me.
“Give us a moment alone, Damien,” Cameron finally said, but he was looking at me again. A second later Damien was out of the car. Cameron lifted an eyebrow, clearly waiting for me to speak.
“I’m not in trouble.” I looked down at my hands. They were in my lap, and I realized I was nervously picking at my shirt. I looked back at him again. “At least not in the way you are probably assuming.”
“I know,” he said, and a part of me wasn’t really shocked he knew that. Cameron pretty much knew everything.
“You knew?” I found myself asking.
The look he gave me was indifferent. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing, where you were, or if you were safe?”
I shifted, feeling the weight of his gaze on me, knowing he could read me with just a look.
“I knew, Sofia.”
I twisted my hands together, swallowing roughly. “I assumed you didn’t care.” This was really not how I’d seen this conversation going. For a second we didn’t speak, but everything seemed so loud, so intense.
“Why didn’t you say good-bye? Why didn’t you see me before I left?” I might as well lay it all out, because that was the whole reason I’d called him. “Did I mean nothing to you?” My voice was whisper soft, my emotions threatening to come forth. I wouldn’t let them though. I wouldn’t let them control me, wouldn’t let Cameron see them. He looked away from me, out the window, and for long seconds stayed like that. I wanted to say something, anything, but my mouth was suddenly dry, and the words didn’t want to form.
“I wanted to see you,” he finally said, breaking that thick silence and making my ears ring with awareness. “But watching you leave was too hard. If I’d been there, seeing you get into that car, I’d have pulled you away and demanded you stay.” He looked at me then. My heart was beating so hard it hurt. “I wanted to keep you as mine, to have you close, care for you. But even a bastard like me knows my world is too toxic for you, Sofia.” Even though his words held so much meaning, he kept his cool composure.
“You saw where I came from, where my life was,” I whispered.
He reached out, and for a second I thought he’d pull me close, say fuck it all, and tell me I was his. Instead he pushed a strand of my hair away, his finger brushing along my cheek, a shiver working its way through my body.
“All the materialistic things are easy to give you, Sofia. It’s the happily ever after I can’t offer.”
I shifted to face him fully. “I don’t want a happily ever after.” I shook my head. “I don’t want the fairy tale.”
“Tell me what it is you want, what I can give you.” He shifted slightly too, his big body facing me now. “Because mayhem and bloodshed rule my world.” He was the one to slowly shake his head now. “As much as I want you chained to my side, only mine, I can’t be a motherfucker and say that’s what’s right for you, safe for you.”
He held my gaze with his own, that focus speaking so loudly. Seconds ticked by, and I wanted to tell him so much more, explain how I felt, what he did to me.
“I want to keep you safe from my world…from me, Sofia.”
I reached out to him, not stopping myself, not able to help myself. “Don’t you see, it’s your world that I want? I need everything and anything that makes up Cameron Ashton. It’s your darkness that calls to me, that makes me feel alive, makes me yearn for more.” I was crying now, and Cameron reached out to smooth his thumb over my cheek, collecting the tear. He brought it to his mouth and sucked the droplet off, focusing on me. Always on me.
“You make me cry because I’m happy.” I finally broke up the silence.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted your tears when you’ve been happy,” he said softly. He had, even if he didn’t realize it.
“You make me happy,” I said honestly, not about to deny how I felt anymore. I wasn’t going to lie, wasn’t going to hide. “And being without you and not feeling that passion, darkness…freedom, is not something I want to experience, Cameron.” I braced myself for the rejection, because even if he did want me, he was a strong-willed man.
But before I could say something else, maybe repeat how much he meant to me, how much I needed him in my life, he had me pulled onto his lap. His arms were around me, holding me painfully tight.
“You’re not afraid, not terrified of the man I am, the corruption I’ll smother you with?”
I rested my head on his shoulder, hearing his breath move along my ear, smelling the manly scent of him that surrounded me, and wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
“Would you have come for me?” I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer.
He stroked my back, running his hands up and down, soothing me, making me feel whole.
“It was hard not making you stay with me, but for once in my life I tried to be the good guy. I tried to let you go free.” He pulled me back and looked into my face. “But honestly, yes, I would have.” He cupped the side of my face, the heat from his body like fire on my skin. “I would have crushed anyone and made a bridge out of their bodies just to get to you.”
My heart stuttered in my chest.
“You’re sure you want this? Because if so I’m really not fucking letting go.”
For the first time in my life I wasn’t afraid of anything. “I’m sure.”
He crushed me to him, and I let that darkness fill me, match my own, grab on to it and not let go.
Epilogue
Life has a funny way of working out, of moving forward when you think it has stopped, stuck in the past. I hadn’t known what life was like, not truly, not fully, until Cameron opened me up, saw inside, let me see
who I really was.
Maybe I would have found out what I liked, how I wanted to spread my wings and fly, experience life in my own way, sooner or later. Maybe I didn’t need a man who shared the same darkness I did to know I wasn’t broken, wasn’t ruined.
Maybe it took a man who was just as scuffed up as me to know I wasn’t alone.
Even as a year had passed, my life revolving on my terms, on my time, I still felt like that lost girl. And when I saw Cameron, felt his hands on me, heard the words of his possession, of his dark love, then I felt alive. I wasn’t a victim, not unless I made myself one.
Never again.
I sat behind Cameron’s desk at the estate, going over the club paperwork, the finances, the employment history. I was in charge of helping Damien hire on new staff, vetting them out, making sure they could be trusted, even if they’d just be delivering drinks to customers.
It was what I wanted to do, be a part of something bigger. It might not be the most prestigious job, a path I saw myself doing, but it allowed me to be near the man I loved, and earn my own money—even if Cameron insisted on taking care of me in all ways.
The sound of the door opening had me glancing up. Damien stood in the doorway, his hands behind him, his body ramrod straight. “He’s here.”
Just then my cell rang, and I picked it up and saw Cameron’s number flash along the screen. As if on instinct my body warmed, became soft, and everything in me was alive with awareness…anticipation.
“You’re ready, baby?”
His deep voice pierced right through me, and I glanced at Damien, feeling my face heat, my body reacting to the sound of Cameron’s voice.
“Yes.” I disconnected the call, stood, and smoothed my hands down the evening gown Cameron had sent to the house for me to wear. I turned and faced the window, seeing the gleam of his black Mercedes coming up the drive, the sun glinting off the exterior, the windows tinted so I wasn’t able to see him.