by Kate Stacy
Once they leave the house, I grab my phone and steel my nerves for the call I have to make.
Needless to say, Holden is pissed.
Apparently, Camille refused to tell him why she wouldn’t let him or Morris call me, but he knows I did something to hurt her. I know I hurt her. It wasn’t intentional, but that means fuck all when Holden’s protective side is out in full force. He basically rips me a new one and I let him. I sit there and take it, knowing I deserve every bit of his anger.
Hell, he’s letting me off easy, all things considered. At least we’re not face to face where punches can be thrown.
Small blessings.
I promise to talk to Camille and fix it. It’s not a promise I make lightly.
If I had it my way, I’d be there right now begging for forgiveness.
Holden insists she’s asleep, though, and won’t let anyone bother her. After that, he hangs up on me.
Wasn’t exactly how I was expecting the call to go, but at least I know Camille is somewhere safe.
Even if she’s not with me where she belongs.
My entire shift, I spend the time between calls trying to reach Camille.
She still won’t answer the phone. Won’t return my calls. Won’t respond to text messages.
I want to fix what I broke between us, but I can’t do that if she won’t even give me a chance. I fucking hate that I hurt her. I promised I wouldn’t, and it’s something I’ll be mindful not to do again. I was careless with my words and I know once I get the chance to explain, Camille will understand that I wasn’t in a good state when she called. It doesn’t excuse what I said, but at least she’ll know it had nothing to do with her directly.
At the end of my shift, I head home to my empty house.
Surveying the space as I make my way through the house, I keep an eye out for anything Adam and I might have missed.
We spent the entire evening yesterday scouring the house from top to bottom. After hours of searching, we found four different cameras. Tiny, and strategically placed, we would have never spotted them if we hadn’t known to look. Adam found the first, in the living room. I found one in mine and Camille’s bedroom, followed by one in our bathroom. The last, Adam found in the nursery, of all places.
I still can’t believe this sick fuck has been inside my house.
Our home is supposed to be a safe place for Camille, for all of us. Knowing he’s been in our personal space, watching in our intimate moments. It slays me.
I’m supposed to protect my family and keep them safe from threats.
I’m fucking failing.
It’s a hard thing to digest.
As I move into my bedroom, I wonder errantly if Camille would be better off staying at her brother’s house.
No sooner than the thought crosses my mind, I stop dead in my tracks and look around.
Something isn’t right.
It only takes me seconds to figure it out.
Some of Camille’s things are missing.
Her e-reader and the book of baby names she keeps on the bedside table. Her favorite cardigan that’s always draped over the chair in the corner of the room.
Fuck! She’s been here.
A quick trip to the closet and bathroom confirms my suspicions.
Camille came by today and collected some of her belongings. Not everything, just the important things. The things that matter to her.
I was wrong for even thinking for a moment that she should be anywhere but here.
I catch myself before my temper flares. I’m not mad at Camille, only myself.
I wish she would have talked to me and told me how she feels. Yelled at me. Given me the silent treatment here at home. Hell, I’d even take a punch to the face, a knock-down, drag-out fight. Anything other than her leaving.
I only have myself to blame. Me and my careless fucking words.
My anger sparks determination.
I will not lose her over this.
If she wants space, fine. She can have space, but after we talk this out. I want her to open up to me about this like she does with everything else. I’m supposed to be the one she runs to, not away from. We can talk, have an open and honest conversation, and if she still wants to stay with her brother...well, I’ll deal with that if it happens. I can’t just leave things as they are. Everything’s up in the air and nothing is out in the open.
I hang up my duty belt, lock up my gun, strip out of my uniform and throw on the first thing I grab. Jeans and a simple t-shirt will work. I don’t need fancy for this conversation. Camille doesn’t give a fuck what I wear.
Snatching my keys off the counter on the way out the door, I drive straight across town to her brother’s house.
Holden answers my knock, opening the door. He leans against the frame, folding his arms across his chest. “She’s not here. I’m not sure I’d let you in even if she was.”
“I deserve that.”
I scrub my hand down my face, breathe out a heavy breath and lift my head to look him in the eye.
“I fucked up and I know that. It’s just…” Losing some of my confidence, I rub the back of my neck and drop my head for a second. “It’s a complicated situation, man. I just wanna talk to her and explain what happened yesterday.”
Holden must see something in my expression because he relaxes his stance and opens the door wider. “Come in. Let’s have a talk.”
He’s not the one I need to talk to, but I won’t refuse him. I know his place, his importance, in Camille’s life. If he’s willing to listen, he might be willing to help me convince her to do the same.
An hour later, I leave feeling dejected. I’m trying to hold onto a shred of hope, but it’s hard.
At first, Holden talked while I listened. He told me everything that happened from the minute Camille showed up at his place yesterday. I don’t think he did it to make me feel bad, he just wanted me to have all the facts. From what he says, Camille was steadfast in her refusal to tell him what I’d done to hurt her. He wasn’t even sure I was the cause until she refused to go home and wouldn’t let him, or Morris, call me. In my mind—hopefully, I’m not wrong—her refusal to tell him what I did to her is a sign that she’ll be open to hearing me out. At some point.
He didn’t threaten me, even though I expected it to come at any time. He listened intently while I explained the call from my former chief. Having to break the news to Adam and Hannah. Trying to do my best to be there for both of them and the mess of emotions that came with the news. It seems I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sure how to feel. I told him about the call with Camille and the words I said but didn’t mean them in the way they sounded. By the time I finished spilling it all, I waited with bated breath for his reaction. And maybe some advice.
He gave it to me.
Wait.
That’s it. That was his advice.
He told me to give Camille time.
Apparently, the Sterling sisters are notoriously stubborn, known for standing their ground and being difficult. He told me to give her a chance to work through things in her head and cool down, give her time to think.
Give her time to miss me.
So, here I am.
Driving home to an empty house for the second time today.
I’m relieved that Holden doesn’t think I’m an uncaring asshole.
Then again, maybe I am.
Because I can’t help but to be frustrated that even in death, Elena is fucking up my life.
Of course, I’m an asshole for thinking like that. This entire situation is on me. No one else. But I won’t give up on Camille. Not easily. Not at all.
I love her too much to give up.
Fuck.
I love her.
THIRTY-TWO
Hannah
Jiggling the keys in my hand, I wait for the woman to pass and I slip through the automatic door. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I look around the parking lot to f
ind Grandma’s car. I should probably know where she parked—we got out of the car less than five minutes ago—but I was more interested in the stream of texts from my friends than paying attention to my surroundings.
Oh well. Priorities.
“Aha! Found you.”
I look both ways before crossing the street, just as Grandma reminded me to do before she agreed to let me come grab her wallet by myself. Once I’m safely across the street, I pull out my phone and open my inbox. Glancing up frequently, I continue the conversation I was having with my friend about the guy she likes.
My dad would be on my ass if he knew I was staring at my phone to talk about boys while I walk through a parking lot. I snicker, knowing he’d have my ass for even thinking the word “ass.”
I finally get to the car, so I slip my phone into my back pocket and hit the button to unlock the doors. I reach for the door when I hear a man yelling loudly. Glancing around, I finally see the guy who’s making all the commotion. He’s yelling at someone, arms gesturing wildly, but from my position, I can’t see who he’s yelling at.
I know I should grab Grandma’s wallet, lock the car, and go back into the store. Whatever is going down in the parking lot is none of my business.
But let’s face it. Curiosity is human nature and I’m nearly thirteen. I wanna know what’s going on. Then I’ll probably post about it on social media, or at the very least, tell my friends.
I watch for a minute, but I can’t really understand what he’s getting loud about. His voice lowers, making it impossible to hear what he’s saying. He steps to the side, or maybe closer to whoever he’s yelling at, I can’t really tell. When he does, I finally get a glimpse of the other person.
Cami.
I quickly duck around the other side of the car so I can get a better view. If Cami is involved, I need to know what’s happening.
I may still be considered a kid, but I’m not stupid.
I’ve heard bits and pieces of my dad and Cami’s conversations, enough to know that something serious has been going on. If I had to guess, I’d say it maybe has something to do with this guy. I’ve never seen him before. I don’t like the way he’s yelling at Cami though.
He moves again and I get a clearer view of her.
She’s got her arms wrapped around her body. Every time she takes a step back, he follows.
It’s easy to see that she’s scared.
Even though I’m not close to them, I take a step back. I don’t know who this guy is, but I don’t like the way he’s yelling at Cami. The more I see, the more I get upset. I haven’t seen him touch her, but I’m scared. It looks like he’s getting angrier. What if he tries to hurt her?
I need to get help.
Should I go get Grandma? Or should I call Dad?
Dad.
Definitely dad.
Snatching my phone from my pocket, I call him as quick as I can. My eyes sting with tears and I bounce nervously while I wait for him to answer.
Hurry up. Hurry up.
“Hey Squirt. How’s it going with Grandma?”
“Daddy.” My voice squeaks a bit, but I’m trying to be quiet. I don’t want anyone to hear me.
“Hannah. What’s wrong?” His voice gets super serious, so I can tell he knows something’s wrong.
“It’s Cami, Daddy. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt her.”
I try not to cry, but I suddenly realize how bad this is.
“Take a breath for me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on.”
I don’t know how he can sound so calm, but I take a breath like he said and hurry to tell him what’s happening. “I’m at the grocery store with Grandma. The one on Main Street. I came out to the car to get her wallet ‘cause she forgot it. There’s a man in the parking lot yelling at Cami. She looks scared, Daddy.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m hiding behind Grandma’s car. I’m watching, but no one can see me.”
“That’s good, baby. Do you recognize the man? Have you seen him before?”
“No.” I sniffle, wiping tears from my face.
“That’s okay, Hannah. Listen, I’m on my way.” I hear him get into a car. I know it’s his police cruiser because I can hear him flip on the sirens. They make it hard to hear what he says, but I listen closely. “I’ll be there in five minutes. I want you to stay put and tell me if anything else happens. Don’t move. Don’t try to go back into the store. Just stay where you are. I don’t want you drawing attention to yourself, okay?”
I nod, but remember he can’t see me, so I give him a quiet, “Okay.”
I do exactly as he says. I stay put. I watch.
“I’m coming, baby. I promise.”
I don’t respond. I watch. I wait.
The guy steps forward, only inches from Cami now. He leans down, yelling right in her face. I see her shake her head, and she tries to back away. He stops her, grabbing her arm. He jerks her to him and wraps his other hand around her throat.
I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand.
“Hannah. What happened, honey? Talk to me.”
I almost start crying again, but I tell him everything that just happened.
He curses under his breath, but I hear it.
“Daddy! He’s trying to put her in a truck. A white truck. It’s old and beat up.”
“Keep talking, Hannah. I’m almost there.”
I want to cover my eyes. I don’t want to see anymore.
I like watching crime shows and dramas on TV, but this is nothing like that.
It’s scary. I don’t want Cami to get hurt. I don’t want anything to happen to her or the babies.
I need to be brave right now.
“She’s trying to fight him off, but he’s stronger than her. She can’t get him to let—Oh no!” I try to keep my voice a whisper, but it’s hard. “She fell down, Daddy. I can’t see her anymore!”
“I’m close, baby. I’m almost there. Just another minute.”
I hear Cami start to cry, but the sound of the sirens quickly drowns her out.
I drop to my butt on the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
As soon as I see the squad car pull into the parking lot, I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, drop my head to my knees, and start to cry.
Daddy’s here.
He’ll save them.
THIRTY-THREE
Ryan
“By the book, Alexander.”
Morris’s firm reminder reaches my ears as he swings the car into the parking lot with practiced ease.
It’s a reminder I shouldn’t need, but admittedly do. All my years on the force, and this is the first time I’ve ever needed a reminder to do things by the book. It’s also the first time someone has been a direct threat to someone I love.
He put his goddamned hands on her.
Morris is no stranger to my temper, especially since all this started. Doesn’t matter that we’ve only been partners for a little more than six months. He’s seen me fly off the handle more than once, especially when it involves Camille. I have a hair-trigger temper when it comes to her.
The instant I see my pregnant girlfriend on the ground with tears in her eyes, my pulse spikes and my rage reaches dangerous levels.
“I’ve got your back.”
I give Morris a tight nod and reach for the door handle, prepared to jump out and get to my girl the second this car comes to a stop.
I do just that, immediately going to Camille and dropping to my knees beside her.
I watch as the tension drains from her body, relief plain as day on her face.
I’m thrilled that despite everything that’s happened the past few days, I’m still able to provide her a significant amount of comfort and safety.
She buries her face in my chest as I fold her into my arms.
I hate the circumstances, but having her in my arms again? It feels right.
I press my lips to the top of her head before leaning down further to whisper in her ear, “You okay, Gorgeous?”
She nods against my chest.
I don’t fully believe her—she’s on the ground, for fuck’s sake—but I take it to mean nothing serious is wrong with her.
I rub her back, flashing my eyes to where Morris is talking to the asshole who was smart enough not to try to run. Or maybe that makes him a fucking idiot, I really don’t know. Either way, he’s not getting away with this shit. Morris meets my gaze and gives me a subtle nod.
This is where I talk to Camille and get her side of the story, ya know...if we’re doing things by the book. Dropping to my knees and hugging a victim—fuck, she hates that label—isn’t exactly “by the book,” but I didn’t drop this motherfucker to the ground the second I laid eyes on him, so Morris should be grateful for that much.
Now that I know Camille is mostly okay, I want my turn with this guy.
I kiss her again, promising I’ll be right back, and get to my feet.
I quickly scan the parking lot, eyes landing on my beautiful, brave little girl beside my mother’s car. I give her a small smile, a simple gesture to show her everything will be okay. She smiles back but doesn’t move. I’m so fucking proud of the way she handled things today. Even now, she knows to sit tight and wait until I come get her. I know this situation was scary for her, but she did all the right things and probably saved Camille and the twins at the same time.
She’s the real hero today, and I’ll make sure she knows it.
Morris sees me coming. I can tell he’s conflicted, but I give him a promise with a single look.
I’ve got my shit under control.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m livid. Seething fucking mad.
But I won’t do anything I shouldn’t. I won’t do anything that would risk screwing up this case. This is my chance to get this asshole behind bars and far away from Camille for a long, long time.
Morris tells Chad that he’s being arrested, giving him reasons why. As Morris begins reading him his rights, I walk up behind him, smiling with a sort of sick satisfaction when he startles at my presence. I move his hands behind his back, taking extreme fucking pleasure in slapping a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.