She tried to swallow her irritation. It irked her that he could so easily read what she was thinking.
He’d always had that ability.
And it had always driven her nuts.
“I’ll be right back.” It came out sounding like a warning.
Good.
Cam practically sprinted to the kitchen, hauling out a mug and filling it with coffee in record time. Drops of hot liquid spilled on her hand, and she muttered a string of expletives as she rushed back to the guest bedroom where she’d put Alex.
He was right where she’d left him.
She held out the mug and he tried to adjust himself into more of an upright position. It was hard, though, and Cam watched as he struggled to get comfortable. It was impossible not to feel a pang of sympathy for him. He was clearly in a lot of pain still.
He accepted the coffee gratefully.
She sat back down in her chair, realizing belatedly that she should have taken her own cup with her to top it off.
Oh well. She’d had an entire pot already. She could wait for a refill.
What she didn’t want to wait for were answers to her questions.
“So tell me,” she said, once he had gotten down a few sips.
Alex cradled the mug in his hands. The coffee must have been some type of magical elixir because his color immediately improved. His complexion went from sallow to the creamy brown she remembered, and a rosy tinge blossomed on his cheeks. Even his lips looked pinker, fuller.
She dragged her eyes away.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what happened in Bentley.”
“I was jumped.”
He said it so quickly, so easily, that Cam wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “What?”
“I was jumped.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t ask,” he said dryly.
She shook her head impatiently. “Why do you think they jumped you?”
“Wrong place, wrong time, I guess.”
She stared at him with narrowed eyes.
She didn’t believe him for a second.
There was more to the story. More he wasn’t telling her.
“So why did you come here?” she asked. “To Aspen Falls. And to my house.”
He took another sip of his coffee, and she glared at him. She knew exactly what he was doing. Stalling for time. Because he didn’t want to tell her.
She was about to ask again, more firmly this time. She was even contemplating ripping the mug out of his hands so he couldn’t use it to hide behind.
But a knock at the front door stopped her.
Her gaze flew to the small digital clock on the nightstand. It was barely eight on a Saturday morning. Who in the world would be knocking on her door at this hour?
There was a loud thump and she swiveled so she was facing the bed again. She sucked in a startled breath. Alex was out of the bed, swaying unsteadily on his feet. Dressed in only his boxers, his tall, well-muscled frame was on full display. She tried not to stare at his broad shoulders and tanned chest, at the tattoos that graced his clavicle and dipped down toward his pecs. He clutched his stomach as he staggered toward the window.
Cam was instantly on her feet. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
His eyes were wide. With fear or pain, she didn’t know. Maybe both.
Another knock came, louder this time.
The hairs on the back of Cam’s neck stood at attention.
She walked toward Alex, approaching him the way she might a wounded animal. “You’re okay,” she said, her voice calm.
Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. “No,” he said, shaking his head.
“You need to lie down,” she told him. “You’re in no condition to be standing. To be walking.”
Another knock.
Alex took another painful step closer to the window. Cam had no doubt he’d probably launch himself through the glass, he was so panicked.
“Please,” Cam pleaded. “Just lie down. I’ll go see who it is.”
“No!” His voice was forceful.
She stiffened. She knew he was acting from a place of fear, but there was no way she was going to allow this man to tell her what to do.
She didn’t let anyone dictate what she did.
“Stay here,” she said firmly.
She spun on her heel and headed out of the bedroom.
“Camila.” Alex’s anguished voice called for her, sending shivers down her spine.
Who the hell did he think was at the door?
For the briefest of moments, she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t answer. Or that maybe she should grab her gun from the closet.
If she could find it, she reminded herself.
She approached the door gingerly, keeping her footsteps light. The blinds were still drawn and the lights were off. With her car tucked away in the garage, there was no reason anyone should think someone was up or even at home.
Standing on her tiptoes, Cam centered her right eye over the peephole. A heavyset man wearing an ill-fitting suit stood on her doorstep, holding a binder. Her eyes zeroed in on the large lettering emblazoned on the front.
Top Notch Security.
Relief bubbled inside of her.
A security firm. The one that constantly ran radio ads on the local stations.
The man raised his hand as if he were about to knock again, and she knew what would happen: one more rat-a-tat-tat just might send Alex straight out the window.
She flung the door open before the man’s knuckles met the wood.
He looked visibly surprised; a little startled even. “Oh. Hello.” He pasted on a smile. “My name is Duncan Powell and I’m from Top Notch Security. I was in the neighborhood and noticed you don’t have a home security system.”
“That’s correct.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, have you ever considered getting one? With crime rates going up, people are more vulnerable than ever to in-home criminal activity.”
Cam raised her eyebrows. Crime was going up? She wondered what skewed statistics he’d produce if she questioned him on it, or if he’d just flat-out made that up as part of his sales pitch. She knew full well that crime rates were down all over—not just in Aspen Falls but the country as a whole.
Part of her was sorely tempted to challenge Duncan Powell, to engage him in conversation so she could flay him with all of her facts and figures.
But then she remembered who else was in her house.
A man who for some reason was terrified that the person knocking on her door was there for him.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
“But ma’am, you really should consider a home security system. Do you live alone?” He was thumbing through his folder, trying to find something. “Women who live alone are most at risk, you know.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she clipped. She was tempted to tell him she was a cop, and she could take care of herself, thank you very much. She was the last person who needed a security system.
Well, except for the fact that someone had indeed broken into her home less than twelve hours earlier…
“We are offering a special this month. Free installation and—”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
She closed the door firmly and twisted the lock and the deadbolt in place.
“I’ve walked your property,” Duncan called from the front steps. “I can point out where you’re most vulnerable!”
She ignored him, making a face as she pictured him walking the perimeter of her yard, checking for signs of weakness. She didn’t want to admit it, but just the thought of someone doing that creeped her out. Even if it was someone who just wanted to sell her a pricey security system.
She shook it off.
She had more important things to do.
Like getting back to Alex and making sure he hadn’t crashed through the bedroom window and was now dealing with massive cuts to go along with his gashed thigh and sor
e ribs.
She hurried back down the hallway and into the guest bedroom.
And froze.
Bright sunlight filled the bedroom, momentarily blinding her.
Alex had pulled the shade.
A cool breeze ruffled the white lace valance.
Her mouth dropped as she noticed the open window.
She didn’t have to look at the bed to know it was empty.
Alex was gone.
6
Saturday, September 8th
8:10 am
Alex was lying low, holding his side, fighting back the scream of pain that threatened to escape.
His ribs had morphed into knives, stabbing his organs and muscles, and the wound on his thigh had busted open again. Blood trickled down the inside of his thigh, snaking around to his calf.
He should have grabbed his clothes, he realized.
But there hadn’t been time. Someone had been at Cam’s door, pounding over and over. Fear seized him as soon as the knocking started, and instinct told him to do one thing: run.
Despite the pain coursing through his body, Alex had lifted the shade and raised the window, then somehow managed to vault himself through the opening and into the side yard. He’d had one thing on his mind: escape. He stumbled forward a few steps, and even in his slightly delirious state, had noticed a white single-story home, two houses down from Cam’s, with a For Sale sign planted in the yard. A quick glance at the opened curtains revealed an empty living room, confirming the home was vacant. He managed to work his way toward it, limping and staggering like a zombie from some bad horror film, wearing only his boxers, his leg covered in blood.
He didn’t try the house, though. The garage tucked behind it was a better option. Less obvious. Safer.
The side door to the dilapidated building was locked but looked flimsy, resting drunkenly on its hinges. Under normal circumstances Alex would have easily been able to kick it in. But cracked or broken ribs and a bleeding wound in his thigh were not normal, and with barely enough strength to stand, he knew he didn’t have it in him to bust the door down. Instead, he stooped just enough to grab a rock from the landscaped area adjacent to the garage. He smashed it through the single-pane window and then jammed his hand through the opening, barely noticing as the jagged glass pierced his skin. He jiggled the lock and the door gave way, and he fell to the concrete floor. He’d had just enough energy to close the door behind him.
Now he took in his dank, dusty surroundings. He had no idea how much time had passed since he’d sought shelter in the musty garage. It could have been five minutes or five hours, as he was pretty sure he’d gone in and out of consciousness a couple of times.
He tried to push himself into a sitting position but the pain in his chest forced him back down.
“Shit,” he muttered.
What the hell was he going to do?
He’d hauled ass out of Cam’s house because he knew he couldn’t stay. Not if it was going to put her in danger. Huddled there now, he felt like an ass for leaving her, but he knew if he wasn’t there, if there was nothing to connect him to her, she would ultimately be safe. At least he thought she would be.
He told himself she would be.
But him?
He was stuck in some strange garage, broken and bleeding, and with barely a stitch of clothing. He’d been in some sticky situations before, but nothing compared to this.
“Shit,” he said again, a little more forcefully.
He’d fucked up big-time.
All of it.
The shit that had gone down in Bentley.
Coming to Aspen Falls.
Involving Cam.
And now this.
He was beginning to seriously wonder if he might bleed out on the concrete floor.
Alex closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
He never should have come.
He’d said goodbye to Cam years ago. Lied to her. Told her he didn’t love her and then walked out of her life because he knew he’d never amount to anything. Breaking up with her had been far easier to bear than the thought of dragging her down with him. He knew that, for him, gang life was inevitable, and he didn’t want her to have to deal with that shit.
Cam deserved better.
And so he walked away.
That should have been it.
The end.
Goodbye.
That was what it was supposed to be.
Alex glanced down at his leg. The gauze Cam had wrapped around the wound was stained bright red, saturated with blood. Cam’s words from earlier echoed in his head.
She was right. He probably did need a doctor.
He sighed. He just needed a place to hide, to keep out of sight until he was well enough to formulate a plan.
As if he had any fucking clue what to do next.
No, that wasn’t true.
Alex knew exactly what he needed to do.
He had to stay hidden.
From everyone.
Even from Cam.
Especially from Cam.
Alex squeezed his eyes shut. His throat constricted, and he tried not to focus on the futility of his situation, of what was bound to be waiting for him.
Certain, absolute death.
He slammed his good hand against the concrete floor and tears sprang to his eyes. Not from the pain and not from sadness; they were tears of frustration, of anger.
Everything was fucked up.
And he had only himself to blame.
7
Saturday, September 8th
8:20 am
“No.”
Cam stared at Alex. “What?”
“No.” His voice was barely a whisper.
She didn’t know whether to scream or cry when she stumbled upon him in the garage.
Full-blown panic had seized her the minute she’d noticed the empty bedroom. This was soon replaced by anger and then fear as she searched the back and side yards, desperate to find him. She’d been seconds away from calling the station when something made her glance toward the Freehy’s house. It had been on the market for a few months, the price dropping every few weeks because they’d already moved to Colorado and were desperate to get it sold. She’d heard through the grapevine that Alaina Dans was waiting to pounce as soon as it hit a price she was willing to pay. But until then, it stood empty. Waiting.
Cam knew an empty house offered a pretty decent place to hide.
She’d sprinted down the street, veering immediately toward the backyard and the garage. If it had been her on the run, that was where she would go. Her pulse quickened when she saw the smashed-in window.
Bingo.
Alex let out a soft moan.
“You can’t stay here,” she said.
“You have to leave,” he rasped. “Not safe.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine but she tried to ignore it. “You’re not safe here, either. In fact, you’re trespassing. And you vandalized this property.”
He acknowledged this with a simple nod.
“But right now, we need to get you back in bed and we need to get the bleeding stopped.” Her eyes drifted to his leg and she shuddered. It looked bad. Really bad.
“This was a mistake,” he mumbled.
“Running away from the house?” She leaned down. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get him off the floor but she had to try something. “No shit.”
“No.” He swallowed. “Coming here.”
“We can debate that later,” she told him. “Right now we need to get back to the house.”
“No. I can’t stay.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
He glared at her.
“It’s either my house or the hospital,” she told him. “Take it or leave it.”
He opened his mouth to speak but she held her hand up. “I’m not arguing with you.”
She sounded no-nonsense, but Cam’s insides were quaking. Alex was clearly terrified, enough so that he’d escaped through her bedro
om window and hobbled down the street despite his injuries.
And he wasn’t just worried about his own safety. If anything, it seemed as though he was more worried about her and keeping her out of harm’s way.
Cam knew the smart thing to do would be to call the station. Hell, she could even just call Nate if she wanted to keep things a little more under wraps. Barring that, the next best thing would be to call an ambulance or at least get Alex to the hospital.
But she knew if she did either of those things, she wouldn’t get the one thing she was still looking for.
Answers.
Alex Castillo had stormed back into her life for a reason.
And she still didn’t know why.
“Can you stand?” she asked.
He closed his eyes in response.
“Let me get you back to the house,” she said, gentling her tone. “Clean up your leg. We can talk after.”
“Not safe…”
“It is safe,” she told him. “I promise.”
He cast a doubtful look at her.
“The guy at the door was a salesman,” she said. “He was trying to sell me a security system. I actually thought about buying it. You know, seeing how easy it was for you to break into my house…”
Her attempt at humor seemed to work. Something flickered in his eyes and she saw the taut muscles in his neck relax a little.
“We need to get out of this garage.” She held out her hand. “Do you think you can stand?”
He didn’t answer right away and Cam had the sinking feeling that he was going to refuse. But then he sighed and nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
They’d gotten over the first hurdle.
It took all of Cam’s strength to help Alex up off the floor, and she was filled with second thoughts as his face contorted with pain. To his credit, though, he didn’t moan or whimper, just bit his lip as he got to his feet. He swayed briefly before finding his footing.
“Good,” she said encouragingly, offering a smile to go along with it. “Now let’s try walking.”
He stayed still.
“There’s no one out there.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought that might be the reason for his hesitancy. “I promise.”
Apparently, her word was good enough, because he shuffled one foot forward, and then the other. Cam put her arm around his waist, grateful the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing prevented skin-on-skin contact with him, and helped guide him out the door.
Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel) Page 4