by Reana Malori
Was she ready for that?
Yes. Camille had been ready for a while.
“Tristan? I know something’s going on with you. I’ve had more security these past weeks. I’ve even seen one of those black trucks near the office. You’ve been acting shifty these past couple of weeks.”
Walking out of the closet with some clothes in his hand, he hung them up on the door hook. He’d put on his robe. Thank goodness, she thought with a smile. The man was hard to resist.
He strolled over to the bed, sitting down with her again. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.
“Tell me, Tristan. I don’t care how bad it is, but you have to let me decide if I can handle it.” She just hoped he trusted her enough to share what was going on. Because heaven knew, she loved this man so fucking much. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t said it back. His actions spoke louder than words.
He loved her, but maybe he didn’t know how to express it. Maybe he’d never said the words before. She’d give him that. For now. The important thing right now was to understand what the hell was happening around her.
“Baby, I don’t want you to worry about anything,” he said in a low tone. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her body close to his. Lifting her chin with his finger, he kissed her lips. “It’s my job to protect you.”
Jerking back from him, Camille looked at him with surprise and curiosity, “Protect me from what?” Thinking quickly, she stood and began pacing. “Is that why I’ve had the extra security? Tristan, don’t treat me like I’m a child who can’t handle the truth. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m sleeping at my house for the next week.” It was an empty threat. She wasn’t going anywhere, but he didn’t know that.
He stood as well, facing her as he breathed deeply. His nostrils flared, and his eyes were hooded in either anger or desire. She couldn’t tell which emotion was taking over. But whatever was happening, she was getting turned on again, and that wasn’t good at all.
“You aren’t leaving me, Camille.”
Okay, that was definitely anger.
Calming her own tone, she tucked the sheet in so it wouldn’t fall. Taking steps to bring her body flush with his, she tilted her chin to look in his face. “Why would I leave you? I’m frustrated with you. Annoyed that you’re keeping secrets. But I meant what I said. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. But I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
“It’s for your protection. I need you to do what I say,” Tristan practically growled.
Stepping back, she pointed at him. “See, now this is where I know you’ve lost your fucking mind. Have I ever done what you said, just because? Is that the kind of woman you want me to be? Someone who stays in the shadows being the good and quiet mouse while the big, strong men protect her?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, she could see his stubborn nature coming to the forefront. Well, he’d better get ready, because she’d fight him tooth and nail on this. Or she’d walk the fuck away. Either one was an option, so he’d better make the right decision.
“Camille, you’re being stubborn. For once, try to act like a damn lady. Stay out of men’s business.”
Cold rolled through her body at his words. How could he? So, because she had a job she loved, that happened to involve wood and tools, that made her less of a lady? Or because she was blessed enough to be able to wear a pair of jeans and a T-shirt to work each day?
Tristan must have seen the look in her eyes. His stance changed. His arms dropped by his side. “Baby, listen to me. That didn’t come out right.”
Hearing all she needed, Camille began walking around the room, pulling out her clothing for work. Along with that, she pulled out a few more things to place in an overnight bag. She knew she was mumbling to herself, but the words were too much to hold inside.
Why am I never woman enough?
Thought I’d found someone who accepted the real me.
Fucks me every night, but I’m not a lady when I don’t stay quiet.
Why can’t things ever be easy?
How can I love a man who doesn’t even know who I am?
That last thought was the one that stopped her. Glancing over at Tristan, she saw the stricken look on his face. He’d finally realized what she was doing.
“Camille, stop. You’re overreacting,” he said, reaching out a hand to her. “Come sit down.”
“No. I’m being grown. If the man I’m with can’t share shit with me, then I don’t need to be here.” Taking a deep breath, she turned away from him. Maybe their situation was a bit more complicated than simply saying he should be honest. She knew this and was woman enough to admit the truth. Taking another deep breath, she turned around. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you, Tristan.”
Giving her a look, he raised an eyebrow as if to question that statement. But he said nothing in response, so she continued speaking.
“I promise. I really don’t want to argue. But here’s the thing. I know something’s up. I have a street education from my parents and extended family, and my gut feeling has saved me more times than I can count. When I feel something is happening around me, I trust it. Maybe you don’t feel you can tell me everything due to the world you live in. I get it. But you should also recognize that I’m not like these women you’ve dealt with in the past.”
Tristan’s terse voice cut in, “Don’t compare yourself to those women. They’re nothing like you.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she stared him in the eyes. “Then stop treating me like I am. Either you trust me with everything and know that I understand how to keep shit quiet. Or I can leave today, and we reconsider what this,” she motioned with her hand between them, “will be in the future.”
“I don’t like ultimatums.” His deep voice didn’t have an ounce of give in it.
He was pissed. She was pissed. Everybody was pissed. Good. Maybe they’d get to the real issue now.
“I don’t like feeling as if I’m in a situation I’m unprepared to handle. Seems like we both have issues.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. She knew this was a make or break moment. She’d put it all out for him to either accept or reject. In the months they’d been together, she’d wised up on just who he was. The truth, not the rumor and sensationalized articles peppered across the gossip magazines.
Putting him on the spot like this wasn’t her best move, but it was the only one she had left. Just as she was beginning to think she’d played the wrong hand, he spoke.
“Marco.”
“Your cousin? Yeah, what about him?” He hadn’t been over to Tristan’s house since she’d begun spending so much time there. She only knew of him because Tristan mentioned his name.
“My cousin Marco wants to take over the family. Since I’m the apparent heir due to my uncle’s wishes, the only way he can do that is to remove both my uncle and me from the equation. Not only that, he’s threatened your life, the life of your parents, and anyone else I love.” Placing his hands on his hips, he stood in front of her with a hard glint in his eyes. “Which means, I need to kill him before he gets to you.”
CHAPTER 11
Camille sat with both Shandra and D at a table outside the restaurant as they ate lunch. It had been two days since Tristan had come clean. Two days that she’d seethed with anger that Marco had dared threaten her life because he was too much of a bitch to accept that he wasn’t going to be the one in charge.
Tristan claimed he’d told her everything, so she was going to let him have that lie. She knew there was something else going on but decided to leave it alone. More than anyone, she knew lies to protect the ones you cared about were sometimes necessary.
Looking at her two closest friends, she knew the secret held among the three of them could never get out. It would destroy her parents if they knew what their daughter had done to another human being. Her parents were good people who built a new life for their children, away from the negativity
and potential dangers of their old neighborhood. Although they’d taught her how to handle herself on the streets, she knew they wanted a different life for her. There was no way she was going to ruin what they’d done for their children. How much they’d sacrificed to make sure she could have a better life.
Then again, she was dating—practically living with—a man with more ties to the criminal world than she could fathom. As he shared more of his world with her, exposing himself and his secrets, she wondered for a moment just who the hell she’d been sleeping next to every night.
Could the man who treated her with such tenderness, who kissed her with gentle lips, and whispered words of need and desire to her each day be the same man who’d killed so many? Sure, she knew of his nickname, Death Bringer, but she hadn’t really believed all those tales. People exaggerated all the time to boost their legends. Right?
Nope. All the stories were absolutely true.
Hell, the rumor mill didn’t know the half of what he’d done over the years. Based on some things she’d picked up on, her man was dangerous. If people had any inkling of what Tristan was capable of, they’d run screaming in the other direction whenever they saw him.
“Camille,” her friend Shandra yelled out.
“What? Damn, Shandra, why are you yelling?”
Sucking her teeth, her friend flicked her hand at her. “Because your ass ain’t listening. You went to lala land some damn where. Did you hear anything D was saying?”
Chagrined, she looked over at D who had a curious look on his face. “Sorry, D. What were you saying?”
“Word on the street is that Marco called in some dudes from New York. He wants to change the game. Your boy better be careful.”
Not sure how much to tell her friends, she hesitated. This issue was something Tristan wanted to handle, but she knew D could help. He had more connections on the street than people knew about. He could feed them information. Plus, Shandra had her little girl to worry about. What if something happened to her friend because she’d kept this secret from them? Her parents and the two people sitting in front of her were the most important people in her life. She didn’t feel right keeping this from them.
“He knows,” she finally admitted on a heavy breath. “He’s got some things moving. I don’t know all the details, but I’m okay with that.” She looked up at Shandra when the other woman sucked her teeth. “I am, Shandra. I promise. Plus, I can’t be involved in everything. There’s some shit he does—let’s just say I don’t want to know everything he’s involved in.”
“Have you told him everything?” Shandra asked in a serious tone. Although D had an inkling of what happened, there were parts of that situation they chose to keep from him as well. If he knew everything, he’d burn the whole state down, and they didn’t want him caught up in anything and hauled off to jail.
She shook her head. “No. It’s not my story to tell. Not all of it. I’ll respect that as long as you need me to.” Reaching over, she grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed it tight. “I love you, girl. I got you. Even when you get all stupid and yell my name for no reason.”
They both started laughing. The feeling of tension and heaviness blanketing the moment was broken. Glancing at D, she saw him shake his head at the two of them. Since there was a smile on his face, she knew it was all good.
“D, if you don’t mind tapping into your folks to see what you can find out? Not for him, but for me.”
Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he looked at her with a hooded gaze. “You really love this dude, huh?”
Thinking for a moment, Camille knew her life was irrevocably tied to his. Even if they didn’t last beyond the right now, he’d still hold her heart. Her feelings for him were beyond love. There was intense need. Devotion. Want. Desire. She would do almost anything for this man. Love him?
“Yeah, D. I really do love him. He’s good to me. Treats me like a queen. I never want for anything. He doesn’t try to control who I am and what I do.” At their raised eyebrows, she amended that statement. “Okay, he doesn’t do it much. Only when he feels it’s necessary. And okay, he does get a little iffy about me trying to dodge my security detail. I mean, damn. Can a girl get a coochie wax without two big ass Italian dudes standing in front of the door?”
While she and Shandra laughed, D shook his head. “TMI, Camille. I don’t wanna hear about that shit. Girl, you ain’t changed a damn bit.”
“Nope,” she popped her lips at him like she used to do when a teenager. “And I never will. All right, I need to go see my parents. Shandra, my mom’s been asking about her ‘grandbaby’ and when you’re going to bring her over there to see them.”
Calling the waiter over to their table, they continued to talk while D paid the bill.
“How about next weekend? My parents have her today and tomorrow since they just returned home from their cruise. Claimed dibs on my baby since they missed her so much.”
“You know you love it when they babysit. Gives you a break so you can be fast and go out dancing.”
Shaking her head, Shandra gathered her purse as they got up from the table. “Not lately, and I kinda like it that way. Since you’ve been hanging out with your boo, I’ve been chilling at home whenever they take her for the night. I like going out like everybody else, but I like spending time with myself better.”
Turning to look at her oldest and dearest friend, Camille couldn’t hold back the smile on her face. “I like this new you. How about we plan for a night out in two weeks? That way, you have time to find a sitter.”
“Let’s do it. D, you should take your new arm candy out on the town,” Shandra mentioned.
“Not yet, fam. She’s not ready for that type of introduction yet. When I find the one who’s worthy of meeting you two, I’ll let you know. Until then, your boy is just having fun.”
Camille felt good about today. She was hanging with her two best friends. In all the years they’d known each other, nothing had pulled them apart, and for that she was grateful.
She heard the car before she saw it. The engine was loud, and it seemed like someone had pressed down hard on the gas pedal. Tires squealed, which caused all three of them to turn their heads towards the sound. The weapons, the loud cracks, and the smoke wafting up from the muzzles of the guns were all noticed within a tenth of a second.
“Get down!” D was yelling at them, grabbing at both of their arms to drag them down to the ground. People all around them screamed in terror. Everyone was trying to get away from the bullets flying through the air.
Camille wondered why they hadn’t stopped shooting. Who the hell were they going after? The stupidity of that thought hit her just as she felt a burning sensation along her neck. It felt like fire, and she screamed out in pain.
Tristan. She had to reach him.
“Stay the fuck down, Camille. Call 911. Shandra’s been hit. Open your fucking eyes, Shandra.”
Camille noticed the silence at the same time D called out to her about calling 911. Confusion hit her because his words weren’t making sense. Shandra had been hit? By what?
“I’m gonna kill every fucking one of them. Your boy just got some extra backup for this war. Camille, are you talking to 911? Get your ass on the fucking phone!”
Camille nodded, tears filling her eyes as she stared at her friend lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her. So much blood. Red. Thick. Shandra looked so pale.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
First thing first, she needed to call 911. Dialing the emergency number, she gave the details to the operator. Even before she hung up, sirens could be heard coming from multiple directions. Finally glancing up, she noticed they had a crowd around them. The bodyguards assigned to her were keeping everyone back, their eyes scanning the crowd. One of the men was on the phone and she was positive he was calling Tristan. For a moment, anger flared hot. Why hadn’t they stopped those men from firing on them? What the hell had they been doi
ng that they’d allowed her and Shandra to be hurt?
A cold sensation ran through her body. She gasped as the realization hit her. They could have been killed.
D was bent over their friend, giving her chest compressions as another person was giving her mouth-to-mouth. Camille’s stomach flipped, and she wanted nothing more than to empty the contents. Holding it back, she took some deep breaths and crawled over to them. Grabbing Shandra’s hand, she allowed the tears to fall.
Glancing at D’s face, she saw the stricken look that seemed to take over his features. She saw his lips moving and could barely make out the words he was saying. And then she cried more.
Lifting her face to the heavens, she began saying the same words D whispered over and over again.
“Don’t die, Shandra. Please. Fight Shandra. Live!”
*****
Once they got to Providence Hospital, Shandra was rushed off to surgery. The bullet had gone into her abdomen, hitting her liver. D called Shandra’s parents to tell them what was happening, and which hospital they should come to. He sent someone by their house to bring them to the hospital. He didn’t want them driving while emotional, especially with Amina in the vehicle.
Camille called her own parents to tell them the news. They also were on the way. Her own injury wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. It had been a close call, but according to the doctors, her neck had only been grazed. The bullet hadn’t entered her body or hit any vital arteries, which was the only thing that saved her.
Everyone kept saying how lucky she was, but Camille didn’t feel that way. Not when her best friend was lying on an operating table fighting for her life.
The last call she needed to make was to Tristan. Just as her finger hit the final number on her telephone keypad, he strolled through the doors like an avenging angel. She didn’t know how much she needed him until she saw his face. It didn’t matter that he looked as if he could kill everyone in his path. As long as he made it all better.