And yet there she was, her stomach twisting in knots, her heart galloping like a runaway horse.
There was no good reason to say yes.
And a million reasons to say no.
She blew out a breath and Alex watched her carefully, his expression as neutral as he could make it despite the pain he must be feeling.
“I’m only letting you stay so I can keep an eye on you,” she finally said.
His shoulders sagged, his relief almost palpable.
It was a good compromise, she told herself. A good reason.
She shook her head in disgust. Oh, who was she kidding?
The cop in her would have handed Alex his ass on a silver platter. Called the station and had a cruiser out there in five minutes flat to take him in for medical treatment and then off to jail. Even if he’d cleaned up his act, walked away from his checkered past, he would still face charges of breaking and entering…if she filed them.
It was a big if.
The woman in her, the cop, knew it was the only path forward.
But the girl in her?
The girl in her wanted nothing more than to bask in his smile one more time, to lean in close and see if the connection between them was still there.
Cam sucked in another breath.
Yeah.
It was a good compromise.
For now.
4
Saturday, September 8th
7:30 am
Alex woke with a start.
His eyes flew open, his heart stuttering out of rhythm as the familiar panic set in.
Where was he? What was he doing in…in a bedroom? And dammit, why did his chest hurt so fucking much?
He cast his gaze frantically around the room, trying to assess the threat level.
And then he remembered.
The deal gone wrong.
The horrible aftermath, when everything fell apart.
And Camila.
His beautiful, sweet, strong Camila, just the way he remembered her.
He sensed her presence before he saw her.
The room was still dark, the early morning sunshine blocked by tightly pulled shades. Even still, tempered sunlight filtered through the crack at the bottom, where the shade didn’t quite reach the window ledge.
He was on a bed and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there. Had Cam helped him off the floor and into the room? Had he walked on his own?
Alex threw a cautious glance toward his leg. He couldn’t see it—he was tucked underneath a sheet and a thin floral quilt—but there were no obvious protrusions.
“I pulled it out,” Cam said.
He turned to his left. Cam was perched in a chair by his bed, watching his every move. She must have noticed where his gaze had drifted.
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. Your jeans took the brunt of the blow.”
She brushed a strand of long dark hair away from her cheek. Alex remembered how soft and smooth her hair had always felt in his hands. She’d always used Suave shampoo, the coconut-scented kind. He wondered if it still felt the same as he remembered. Smelled the same.
“I cleaned it and wrapped it with a bandage,” she continued, “but you’re going to need stitches.”
Alex offered a slight nod, his way of acknowledging he’d heard her. There was no way in hell he was going in for stitches.
He noticed something else just then, the feel of soft fabric against his legs. Which meant Cam had undressed him. His gaze traveled around the room, finally landing on his discarded jeans.
Cam cleared her throat. “I had to take them off after I got the knife out. To clean the wound,” she said defensively. Her cheeks were red.
Under different circumstances, Alex would have teased her about this. Given her a hard time. And if not that, he would have at least chuckled. But now? All he could muster was a grin that tried to be cheeky.
He flexed the foot of his injured leg, feeling his quadriceps tighten in response. A sharp pain shot through the muscle, and he gripped the sheets and clenched his lips tight, trying to stifle his grunt.
“You’re in pain,” Cam said flatly. She leaned toward the nightstand and grabbed a bottle. Popping the top off, she shook something into her hand.
“You should take these,” she told him, reaching for a glass of water with her free hand.
He cleared his throat, wincing at the pain that radiated through his chest. He was beginning to wonder if his ribs were broken. “What is it?” he managed to rasp.
“Ibuprofen.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t have anything stronger.”
He let go of the sheet and extended his hand. She dropped the pills, four of them, into his outstretched palm, and an inexplicable sadness washed over him. He wished she’d placed the pills in his hand, wished he’d had the opportunity to feel her skin against his, even if it was just the fleeting touch of her fingers.
He swallowed the pills, ignoring the water she offered. The less he had to move, the better—and that included drinking.
He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the pills as they worked their way down his throat. He resisted the urge to cough because he knew that pain would be a hundred times worse than trying to down a mouthful of water.
“So,” Cam said, folding her arms across her chest.
She didn’t continue, even though Alex waited for her to say something more.
He closed his eyes. He knew exactly what she wanted.
Answers.
She was a cop, after all. It was her job to interrogate, to cajole answers out of people and, when that didn’t work, to switch gears and demand them. He knew she wouldn’t be afraid to ask him anything. If there was one thing from her past that could have signaled her future career choice, it would have been her ability to ask the tough questions. He knew this from firsthand experience.
But he knew something else, too.
He knew once she had those answers, she would turn him in. To whom, he couldn’t be so sure. But it didn’t really matter if she called an ambulance or the police; the final outcome would be the same.
He’d end up dead.
“What happened?” she asked.
He kept his eyes shut. It wasn’t that hard, all things considered. He was in excruciating pain, his mind felt a little fuzzy, and he was pretty sure he was suffering from slight dehydration. It would be easy, so easy, to drift off to sleep again.
“Alex,” she said sharply.
Her voice was like a new knife slicing through him, but this time it felt as though it had just pierced his heart. The single word—his name—felt loaded, brimming with anger and disappointment and…and disgust. All were emotions she was entitled to, especially after what he’d done all those years ago.
He sucked in short, shallow breaths, trying to keep his ribs from moving any more than necessary. Maybe he could feign sleep, hold her off for a little while longer.
It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one he had. At least at the moment, and in the condition he was in.
He silently berated himself. He was on a run after the bad decisions, the terrible plans. First with the deal in the alley, and then coming to Cam’s house when all hell had broken loose. And now this: pretending to be asleep so his high school girlfriend who was now a detective wouldn’t be able to pepper him with questions.
He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so completely fucked up and if doing so wouldn’t have racked his body with pain.
If he could change one of those things, one of those piss-poor decisions he’d made in the last twenty-four hours, he knew which one he’d turn the clock back on.
Coming to Cam’s.
As much as he reveled in seeing her again, in knowing that she was as beautiful and bold as the day he last saw her, he knew it had been an asshole move.
He’d barged right back into her life, uninvited and unannounced, for purely selfish reasons.
Because he knew his days were numbered.
And he didn’t
want to die without seeing her one last time.
The only problem was, being in her home created a new problem.
His presence there was so dangerous for her, it just might mean her days were numbered, too.
All because of him.
Cam’s exasperated sigh drew his attention back to her.
Her dark eyes flashed. “If you won’t talk to me, maybe you’ll talk to someone else.” She half-stood, fishing something out of her jeans pocket.
Her phone.
Alex reacted. With considerable effort, he lifted himself off the bed, his ribs screaming in protest. His hand touched her arm, her bare skin, and the jolt of electricity that rocketed through him at contact nearly stopped his heart.
Damn.
He hadn’t expected that single touch to feel like a cattle prod.
Judging from Cam’s expression, she hadn’t expected it, either.
5
Saturday, September 8th
7:45 am
Cam drew back as if stung.
Silently, she berated herself over her reaction.
So Alex had touched her. She’d felt his skin on hers for the first time in an eternity.
Big deal.
Then why was her heart stuttering? Why did the spot where he’d touched her seem to tingle, to vibrate with some weird, raw energy?
She pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut for the briefest of moments.
His touch should have no affect on her. After all, she’d actually undressed him a few hours earlier, and that hadn’t sent shivers down her spine.
She swallowed. Okay, so maybe it had a little. She’d been all business at first, but as much as she’d tried to stay focused, she couldn’t help but notice the array of tattoos on his muscled chest, the sinewy muscles in his thighs and calves, the soft bulge in his boxer briefs…
Cam blinked a couple of times. She was exhausted from lack of sleep. That explained her ridiculous response just now. Keeping vigil over Alex during the night had taken its toll. She’d left his side for only the briefest of moments: to brew an extra strong pot of coffee, to refill her mug every time she drained it, and to relieve herself as the liquid ran through her. But even still, those trips out of the bedroom where she’d set him up were less than a minute at a time. And not a single one of those minutes had brought a second’s worth of rest. She’d needed to be vigilant. And being vigilant had meant staying awake.
Cam told herself she was doing this, behaving this way, because she didn’t trust him. He could bolt at any minute. Disappear into the night, leaving her with all of her unanswered questions. That was not an outcome she was prepared to accept.
She set her phone in her lap, abandoning that plan for the moment, and reached for something else on the nightstand instead.
Her coffee.
She sipped it, hoping it would provide some much-needed clarity. But the liquid had gone cold. She wished she could top it off, not just to warm what was already there but so she had more to help fortify her.
It wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t dare leave him now. Not when he was awake.
And not when she could finally pose the questions that had consumed her during the late hours of the night.
It had been hard to watch Alex sleep. Hell, it had been hard to get him into the damn bed. After he passed out on the floor, she’d made quick work of getting the knife out of his leg. She wasn’t trained medical staff by any means, but as an officer she’d gone through basic first aid and trauma training. Having a brother who was a doctor had also helped. There had been several nights during his med school training where they’d FaceTimed and Cam had drilled him with questions to prepare for exams. After those calls ended, she always felt like she was going through the classes with him.
Not all of the information had stuck with her, of course, but she had a pretty good handle on how to treat basic wounds. Clean it. Staunch the bleeding. Wrap it. And then seek medical help.
She was three for four in the process. Miguel would be proud.
Well, until he found out who her patient was…
Her big brother had sworn an oath to help care for the sick, but she was pretty sure he’d throw it out the window if he knew who was currently resting in her guest bed.
Cam took one more fortifying sip of coffee and set the mug back down.
She needed to focus.
Drawing a deep breath, hoping it would steady her fraying nerves, she zeroed in on the list of questions she’d mentally prepared. She would try again and then, if Alex still chose not to respond, she’d pick up her phone and not hesitate a single second to make the call that would bring a cruiser to her door.
“We need to do this,” she told Alex.
He turned his gaze to her. “Do what?”
“I need to ask my questions and you need to answer them.” Her voice sounded surprisingly calm. Good.
Score one for Cam.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
She could see his hesitation, the flicker of some emotion in his eyes. Was it fear? Worry? Back in high school, she could always tell what he was thinking. But now? It was like there was a filter that blurred her view, denying her full access.
He swallowed, wincing as he did so, and she felt a small tug in her stomach. She might have spent the last decade of her life hating him, but that didn’t mean she wanted to watch him writhe in pain.
“Answer the question.”
He nodded. “I’m here because I had nowhere else to go.”
Alex’s seemingly candid response took her by surprise, and a cascade of new questions flooded her.
“Nowhere?”
Did that mean he was homeless? Banished from whatever home or apartment he’d been living in? Were the cops after him?
She rolled her eyes. Of course they were. That actually felt like a question she didn’t even need to contemplate.
“What happened last night?”
“I came here.”
Cam frowned.
His lips curved into a semblance of a smile. “Well I did, didn’t I?”
She gave him a grim smile of her own. Two could play his game. She would just ask specific questions from now on.
“Where were you coming from?”
“Bentley.”
Cam frowned. Bentley was thirty minutes due west, a city whose population had swelled to close to fifty thousand with the addition of a state college back in the sixties and a burgeoning manufacturing community. She’d never stepped foot in the town but she knew a little about it, just like she knew tidbits about other cities in the state.
Bentley was going through a particularly rough patch—had been for the past few years, if memory served her correctly. The rapid growth they’d experienced in a short amount of time had come with a host of problems: the housing market boomed and then went bust, and with the closure of some of the manufacturing plants during the recession a decade earlier, unemployment still skewed higher than many of the neighboring towns. They’d also seen an uptick in drug use, especially opioids and arrests. In fact, Cam was pretty sure they were ranked first in opioid arrests in the state.
Not exactly a thing to brag about.
“Why were you in Bentley?” she asked. “Is that where you live?”
Wordlessly, he nodded.
Her frown deepened. She knew better than to ask yes or no questions. She tried again. “What brought you to Aspen Falls?”
Another ghost of a smile appeared. “A car.”
Her fingers tightened on her mug. She was tempted to launch it at his head.
“Your car?”
He shook his head.
“Whose was it, then?”
He went to shrug, then thought better of it. The grimace on his face told her how much pain that simple movement had caused him. “I didn’t ask.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Did you…steal it?”
“It was an Uber,” he said, arching a brow. “The driver and I didn’t make much conversatio
n. Although he did try. I’ll give him credit for that.”
She ignored him. “What happened in Bentley?”
He sucked in his lower lip.
She waited.
“Can I have a cup of coffee?” he asked.
“What? Right now?”
Alex nodded. “I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since…I don’t know since when.”
She tamped down the guilt threatening to rise up inside of her as she processed this statement. It wasn’t her job to take care of him. She wasn’t his nurse, and he wasn’t her responsibility. The only reason she’d let him stay was so she could ask him questions and then hand him over to the proper authorities.
But still, she got to her feet. Reluctantly, though.
At least she felt a little torn.
“Cream or sugar?” she asked.
He gazed at her. “Always black.” His dark eyes threatened to swallow her up. “Did you forget?”
Her cheeks warmed. Of course she hadn’t forgotten. Alex had started drinking coffee because of her, a way to stay warm during the wickedly cold winters. A gas station near their neighborhood sold a refillable cup one year, where ten bucks could buy unlimited coffee for the entire winter. Cam didn’t have ten bucks, but she had five. She and Alex had split the difference and passed the cup back and forth all winter long. When they were together—which was often—they shared it, and Alex always complained when she dumped hazelnut creamer and packets of sugar into the cup.
She remembered not wanting to admit that the more she put in her coffee, the less hungry she felt.
“I didn’t forget,” she said curtly, forcibly trying to oust the memory from her mind.
She assessed his position in the bed. He looked harmless, immobile, but she knew better than to trust appearances. Part of her was convinced that the moment she turned her back, he would try to make a run for it.
He met her gaze, his eyes unwavering as they locked on hers. “I’m not going anywhere.” He waved a hand at his chest. “I’m not exactly in any condition to try, now am I?”
Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel) Page 3