Cam's Fortune

by Odessa Lynne

  “You didn’t know?”

  Yes.

  “Ah, fuck it. You’re just confusing me.” Cam rubbed his chin. “Does he blame me?”

  No.

  “That’s all I need to know.” Cam let his head fall to rest on Rick’s chest again. “I keep dreaming about Henry.”

  Rick’s arms tightened around Cam.

  “It all started in the fucking cellar. I think it reminded me of what happened with—” Cam cleared his throat and started over. “When I was nineteen, my father started looking for someone who could protect the shipments of the last of the technology coming out of his major factories. The two biggest had already had gangs move in on them, one was burned to the ground by the employees he couldn’t pay after the economic collapse. He thought if he could get the tech to a couple of buyers he had lined up, he could save what money he had left. He found a man named Ricco—he called himself Rick—Swanger. He was confident he could do what my dad wanted at the price on offer, and so we set up the deal.

  “I was supposed to deliver the cards, but Henry didn’t want me to go alone. Heat season was coming, it was only a few weeks away then, and I think—I don’t know what I think. He had a sixth sense about the guy or something.

  “The whole thing was a fucked up mess. Rick had no intention of doing what he’d agreed on. He took the cards, the tech, and locked me and Henry up in an old rural jail that looked like it’d been abandoned since before the quake.

  “Ava was there. In the cell next door. I found out she’d tried to sneak in and take the boys. She was afraid Rick was going to end up killing them. She’d been planning the rescue for months, apparently, but it all went wrong and she’d ended up there in the cell. She thought she’d been there for a month, but she wasn’t sure by then.

  “We’d been locked up for a while before I found out Rick was trying to collect a ransom from my father. He came in one day to tell me I could leave, but as soon as I realized Dad hadn’t paid the ransom for Henry—probably couldn’t afford to ransom two people at that point—I refused to go. It was a mistake. He shot Henry, said a wolf wouldn’t be worth the food it would cost to keep him alive. Henry would’ve healed, I know he would have, but I tried to grab Rick through the bars of the cell. I landed a good punch before he got free. He called down four of his men. And then he came into the cell and tried to punish me for what I’d done. Henry went crazy. We’d been trapped in there for several weeks. The heat season had started and I think he’d been holding off his first heat cycle for a while already, I don’t know. I’ll probably never know for sure, but Henry had already healed enough to attack and he killed two of Rick’s men before they killed him.”

  Cam had spent a hell of a lot of time trying to forget that day, but he didn’t think he’d ever forget the smell of Henry’s blood. By the time Henry had died, Cam had been covered in it.

  The pressure behind his eyes and nose became too much for him, and he stopped. Took a few deep breaths. Waited another moment and dug his fingers into Rick’s waist. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  Rick’s hands smoothed over him, so carefully, so gentle.

  “You’re not Henry,” Cam said. “You’ll never be Henry.”

  Rick didn’t release him, and Cam gritted his teeth and stared at nothing.

  “You’re not Henry,” he said again.

  Fingers ruffled softly through his hair.

  Cam sucked in a harsh breath and it came out a sob. He dug his head in against Rick’s stomach and cried.

  Six years had passed. Six long years.

  No time at all.

  * * *

  Over the next several days, Cam tried not to think too much about his future or the things he’d left undone. His world had changed; he had to change with it, until he figured out another way to get what he wanted.

  And he would.

  He fucked Rick, when Rick would let him—sometimes Rick wouldn’t, almost as if he felt guilty for the times he’d given in to Cam’s pushing.

  Cam pushed anyway. He would’ve gone crazy if he hadn’t.

  Lights flashed and shadows flickered in the world around him, but he couldn’t see and he couldn’t hear and the sound of his thoughts became louder and more insistent every day. Every time he fucked Rick, he regained a measure of the stability he felt slipping away.

  And then one morning he woke up to something different.

  The shadows were darker, the light brighter, and although he’d been seeing color for a while, he’d been sure it was just a construction of his brain to make up for the lack of visual information his brain was used to receiving from the implants. Now he was equally sure this wasn’t that.

  Rick had moved away while Cam climbed out of the bed and sat on the edge, scrubbing his hands through his hair to flatten it and give himself time to figure out what he was seeing.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Cam said after a minute of staring. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.” He tried to reach for the thing taking up half the space in front of him. His fingers bumped into something warm and hard, and he exhaled a startled huff of air. “Is that you?”

  The soft tap against his wrist came with an unexpected vibration under Cam’s hand.

  Yes.

  “Your chest. I’m touching your chest. What color is your shirt?”

  Rick rubbed Cam’s arm.

  “Dammit.” Cam licked his bottom lip, thinking. “Is it green?”

  No.

  “Red?”

  No.

  “Black?”

  No.

  “Purple? Blue? Brown?”

  No. Yes.

  “Blue?”

  Yes.

  “Blue? The hell if that looks like any blue I’ve ever seen.”

  No response.

  “Is it a light blue or dark blue?”

  Yes.

  “Fucking smartass. Light blue?”

  No.

  “It’s dark blue.” He exhaled in a rush. “My vision is coming back. Jesus.” He stared at Rick’s chest so hard his eyes started to water.

  Finally, he said, “That’s one ugly color.”

  He felt—no, he heard—another faint vibration.

  “Have you been talking to me when you answer my questions even though I can’t hear anything you say?”

  Yes.

  He rubbed his hands up Rick’s muscled abdomen. “That makes me want to fuck.”

  A vibration tickled the palms of Cam’s hands and a pleasant tingle raced along his nerves. The hair on his naked, sleep-warm chest prickled and his nipples peaked hard. He inhaled a soft gasp at the sensation.

  “Okay, now I’m really in the mood to fuck.” Cam opened his thighs and pulled at Rick’s shirt, saying, “I know, I know. I’m always in the mood to fuck these days, but you have to admit, it’s been a damn good way to pass the time.”

  Maybe.

  Cam stopped trying to push Rick’s shirt up and let his hands rest on the warm flesh of Rick’s stomach. “Maybe?”

  Yes.

  Rick’s hands gripped each side of Cam’s head. Warm lips touched his own. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Rick used his strong grip to hold Cam steady, not allowing him to do anything but accept the gentle pressure against his mouth.

  A soft breath caressed his lips and cheek and then Rick’s mouth left his. Rick didn’t release Cam’s head.

  After a moment of waiting for something—anything, Cam said, “I don’t understand.”

  Rick kissed him again, just as carefully as before. Cam again tried to deepen the kiss and as soon as he did, Rick pulled away.

  Cam licked his bottom lip and tasted Rick on his tongue. “What do you want from me? You know I can’t—”

  Rick cut him off with another soft press of lips.

  When Rick pulled away that time, Cam exhaled a sharp gust of air. “I still don’t understand.”

  Without warning, a deeper, longer vibration started under Cam’s hands. His fingers curled involuntarily and the hai
r on his whole body stood on end. He flinched and jerked his hands away from Rick’s chest.

  The vibration ceased as quickly as it had started.

  Rick’s hands smoothed over Cam’s shoulders and down his arms. Then, tugging, Rick seemed to want Cam to turn around.

  Cam twisted, got his knees under him on the edge of the bed and put his back to Rick.

  Rick’s mouth settled hot and damp at the base of Cam’s head, right over the back of Cam’s neck.

  “You want to mate,” Cam said, just as a flash of insight burst into his thoughts. “You want me to call it mating.”

  The emphatic tap was all the answer Cam needed. Yes.

  Cam dropped forward onto his hands and the rumpled sheets twisted under him. He grabbed a handful of fabric. “Mate me, then. Call it whatever—”

  No.

  Cam lowered his head into his hands. “Rick, please.”

  No. Even more emphatic than the last tap, this one made Cam’s heart beat turn heavy and tight in his chest.

  “I don’t understand what you want from me.” Said with a grinding force that gave away his building anger.

  Rick flipped Cam onto his back with one quick jerk.

  Cam bounced on the bed. “I don’t understand!”

  The heavy weight of Rick’s body came down on top of him, crushing him into the mattress. Something sharp and hard pricked at his throat.

  Teeth.

  He tangled his legs with Rick’s and pushed his cock hard against Rick.

  Rick released Cam’s throat and his weight shifted. He seemed to have resettled himself over Cam’s thighs, sitting upright.

  “Agghh!” Cam dug his fingers into Rick’s waist and tried to flip them. His effort didn’t budge Rick.

  Rick pushed Cam’s arms to the bed with unyielding force.

  Cam’s breath burned ragged and hot in his chest, but the silence pounding through the air around him made the grapple for control feel all the more intense.

  “Dammit, Rick! I don’t know—” A sudden thought intruded and he stopped struggling.

  Rick must not have been expecting Cam to give up so abruptly. Something hard bumped Cam’s nose. Pain shafted straight through the bones of his nose and forehead.

  “Ow, shit. That hurt.”

  Warm breath gusted across Cam’s face and then Rick kissed the bridge of Cam’s nose. Cam’s pajama bottoms must have twisted down his hips during the struggle because the movement sent a swirl of air low across Cam’s abdomen, nearly to his groin.

  Rick’s hands landed hot and heavy on that skin.

  Cam let out a low groan. “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s more like it.” He couldn’t spread his thighs or move his hips so he just rested there, breathing heavily.

  Rick’s hair grazed the underside of Cam’s chin and a rumbling vibration seemed to echo in Cam’s head. Cam thrust his fingers into the back of Rick’s hair and held on.

  “I’ve figured it out. I think I know what you want.”

  Another vibration, but no tap to acknowledge Cam’s words.

  “I submit. I haven’t been thinking of it as just fucking for a while, but it’s easier not to think too hard about what the other means if I don’t call it mating. I know that.”

  A hard nip at his collarbone made him jump.

  His cock jumped too. “If you don’t want me to call it fucking anymore, I won’t. And if I slip up, just remember what I said. I know it’s not just fucking.” He switched to the wolves’ language, knowing some of his words wouldn’t sound right, that he’d make a total mess of what he needed to say, but also suspecting that the effort would more than make up for any screw ups as far as Rick was concerned. “I’m your mate. I belong with you, Pa’tar’k’ille. I’m yours, and you don’t just fuck a mate, you mate a mate.”

  A tremor coursed through Rick, strong enough for Cam to feel against his body.

  “We’re mates,” Cam said, switching back to his own language. “Mates take care of each other. I’m not going to let you go through your heat cycles without doing what I can to make you feel better. Stop feeling guilty for fucking—” Cam broke off with a curse and started over. “Stop feeling guilty for mating me just because I can’t see or hear you. I promise, I don’t care. I know it’s you.”

  Another vibration shivered through Cam.

  “You’re not Henry.” This time, when he said it, he hoped Rick knew it wasn’t an accusation. “I know your touch. You’re not him.” Cam cleared his throat. “I don’t wish you were. I promise.”

  Would Rick believe him?

  After all the lies, Cam wasn’t sure he would. But it was the best he could offer. Henry was gone, and although Cam had been missing Henry fiercely since he’d met Rick, he hadn’t actually ever wished Rick was Henry.

  That had to mean something, right?

  Rick seemed to think so. For the first time since Cam had woken up without his sight or hearing, Rick fucked him with the same raw abandon as he had the first time they’d mated.

  By the time Rick’s heat cycle ended, the smell of semen and sex coated every breath Cam took, the musky scent a strong reminder of Rick’s fierce need to mark his mate.

  Tired, thirsty, and starting to feel desperate for a piss, Cam rolled onto his belly, cringing when a wet blob soaked right into the sheet beneath him. Rick tried to pull him back, but Cam threw out his arm in a gesture Rick must have understood.

  “Bathroom,” Cam grumbled. “And I’m going alone.”

  Fingers curled around Cam’s hand and then fell away.

  Cam dragged himself off the edge of the bed, carefully feeling his way to his feet. He relied on his mental map, and surprisingly enough, he only stubbed his toes twice.

  Chapter 22

  “I still can’t make out more than—than a few large shapes,” Cam said, “but damned if I can’t hear everything you’re saying.” He clenched his fists on the cot in front of him. He was stretched out on his belly, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. “I just can’t—I can’t understand most of it.”

  His words stuttered to a halt. He was having difficulty talking. Everything he said sounded wrong. It was tripping him up, making him think he wasn’t saying what he meant, and if he hadn’t been getting the right kind of feedback, he might have thought he was finally going crazy.

  He had no idea where he was. Rick had taken him out of the room he’d spent the last week in for the first time that morning and walked him carefully down a stone path—Cam knew because he’d stopped Rick and knelt, rapping his knuckles against the flat surface beneath him, then running his hand across the surface until he’d felt something cool and slick and slightly ridged against his fingertips.

  “Fallen leaves, right?” he’d asked.

  Rick had said yes. Cam had heard the sound, but he wouldn’t have known what Rick meant if he hadn’t also tapped “yes” against the inside of Cam’s wrist.

  The chill breeze had smelled fresh and sharp and the sun had warmed Cam’s face. He’d been careful not to look directly toward the brightness of the sunlight, despite the desperate urge that surged through him to do just that. The walk had taken a while, but he’d ended up inside another room.

  Rick hadn’t stayed. That had probably been the hardest thing. Until now.

  “I can hear,” Cam said, again, “but I can’t understand.”

  Someone—or several someones—had been handling him, moving him around, touching his face, his eyes, doing other things to him that had him questioning the purpose of the visit.

  “Whoa!” he said, reaching out to smack his hand into whoever the hell he could reach.

  Someone pushed his arm back to the cot, rubbing his elbow gently.

  He wasn’t soothed.

  “You put your finger up there and I swear to God when I get my sight back and can figure out who the hell you are I’ll hunt you down and wring your fucking neck.”

  No one listened to him.

  He took a breath and tried to relax. It was obvious he was gett
ing a thorough exam—whether he wanted it or not.

  He wondered if this was why Rick had left him alone.

  Surely the son of bitch could have found a way to warn him.

  The fingers came out and Cam sighed, dropping his head down between his forearms, resting his thumbs at his temples.

  “I can hear all of you, and it just sounds—it sounds like babbling.”

  The hum of sound continued and Cam just breathed and let the people do whatever it was they needed to do.

  And then someone said, “ . . . mate . . .”

  Cam raised his head, but the noise continued unabated around him. Clinks and clatters, tings and clacks, and the unending mumble of words he couldn’t understand.

  “Somebody just said mate,” he said to the room.

  The mumble of words faded.

  “Tell me someone just said mate.”

  Someone tapped gently against his wrist.

  No.

  “Dammit.”

  * * *

  “Never leave me alone with people who want to stick their fingers up my ass again, you got that?” Cam tried to speak quickly so his inability to understand his own words wouldn’t interfere with what he wanted to say.

  It seemed to work to lessen the stutter that came from not recognizing when he messed up and having to start again, but it took a level of concentration he wasn’t used to devoting to something as simple as speech.

  He dropped back against the bed and stretched out his arms above his head, exhaling softly has his muscles pulled. The walk back had taken a while, but he’d enjoyed the heat of the sun and chill of the fall air on his skin. “We need to get out more often.”

  Maybe.

  “Do you take the repression drugs every day?”

  Yes.

  “Does everyone take them?”

  No.

  “Ah. So I don’t guess taking regular walks is much of an option right now.”

  No.

  Cam stretched again, and then propped up on his elbows and looked toward the shape of color he thought of as Rick. Light had started to define lines and curves and he had no doubt the day would come when he would be able to see again, maybe not exactly as before, when his only experience with vision had been assisted by technology, but he would be able to see and understand what he saw.