by Snow, Jenika
All of it was for nothing because in the end he’d still found her, still had her at his mercy.
There was silence. The alarm wasn’t going off anymore, and she felt her panic rise.
“Yeah, disengaged that, sweetness. No need to have the authorities coming here and ruining what we have.”
She felt her heart lurch in her chest. She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d turned off the alarm, that the cops wouldn’t be coming. This was Cameron, after all.
“It’s easy enough figure out your routine, your codes, when I have someone keeping an eye on you.”
Her stomach cramped, her heart racing.
“I have to admit, you had me running for quite some time.” His warm breath teased her ear at the same time she felt his hands settle on her shoulders. “Didn’t I tell you I’d find you? Didn’t I tell you there was nowhere you would be able to hide from me?” he whispered and then dragged his tongue along the side of her neck.
Brea closed her eyes and cried out, but the sound was muffled.
“You know”—he kept one hand on her shoulder as he moved in front of her—“I could have forgiven the fact that you ran from me, Brea, but when I realized you’d found someone to keep you warm at night?”
She wouldn’t look up, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how frightened she really was.
“Look at me.” The sound of his voice, a roar in these small confines, had her immediately obeying. “Ah, that’s my girl. You were always such a good and docile little bitch.”
Cameron hadn’t changed. In fact, this time away from him showed Brea how savage he truly was.
He was about to do horrendous things to her, wearing a light-blue Oxford, dockers, and loafers, yet he looked like a fucking advertisement for Better Homes and Gardens.
He took a step back and made another tsking sound, as if he was highly disappointed in her. Then he started rolling his sleeves up his forearms.
“If you would have just stayed, Brea, we could have worked it out. I want you, still do.” When his sleeves were rolled up, he started undoing several of the buttons of his shirt. “Did you know you were letting a would-be murderer fuck you, Brea?”
Cameron was the master of all manipulators. It didn’t matter, because whatever Cameron said would never change how she felt for Adrian. Tears started to slip down her cheeks. They weren’t of pain though. They were from her anger, her hatred.
“You know how much your tears make me hard, love.” He grinned. “We’re going to make up for lost time.”
****
The scent of takeout filled Adrian’s truck. He didn’t know how tonight would go, but he had to be honest with her. He had to tell Brea that things could be perfect with them, that she didn’t have to worry anymore.
So here he sat, staring at her house, trying to come up with what to say, how to make this go smoothly where he didn’t come off as overbearing.
The sun had already set, so he could easily see that her living room light was on.
He loved her, needed her, and he’d do anything to keep her in his life. Those few days where she’d gone distant had been his wake-up call. She was like a scared rabbit, ready to bounce if startled. He couldn’t blame her. Maybe he was coming on too strong? Maybe he needed to take two steps back and let her assess their relationship?
What he couldn’t do was let her walk away from what they had.
It was real. It was what they both needed.
He hung his head and closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. Shit, this probably didn’t need to be as hard as he was making it out to be.
The sound of a car door shutting pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked to his right. The man who got out of the dark car looked like he belonged in this part of the city. He was rough in appearance, with greasy hair and crease-covered clothes. His shirt was partially untucked, and a cigarette hung from his lips.
He hated that Brea lived here. Adrian fucking hated that she was so scared, that he couldn’t make her see that he’d never let anything or anyone hurt her again. He’d die before he let that happen.
He expected the guy to go into one of the other run-down houses in the neighborhood, but when he started making his way up to Brea’s front door, everything inside of him went tight.
Was that Cameron?
The man in question held a large black duffel bag, and when he banged on the front door, Adrian immediately climbed out of his truck and stalked toward him. Just as he made his way to the driveway, the front door opened and the guy went inside. Adrian hadn’t seen Brea when the door opened, but the thought that she’d let some dirty fucker inside had his blood racing.
How did she know him? Was it someone from her past?
Before he could find out the answer to those questions, the guy was coming out of the house again. He stopped when he saw Adrian, this panicked look covering his face. There was recognition on the fucker’s face. He’d seen Adrian before? The asshole glanced between the house and back at Adrian before hauling ass to his piece-of-shit car.
Adrian felt his heart race as he went after him.
Something wasn’t right, but he’d sure as fuck get to the bottom of it.
22
“I have to say,” Cameron said as he wiped his face off with a rag, his grin satisfied. “You’ve gotten stronger since our time apart.”
Wrists achingly sore from straining against her bonds, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe a savior would come. She had to get out of this on her own.
He’d since taken the gag out of her mouth, but this time she refused to give him the satisfaction of pleading for mercy. Never again.
“Hearing you scream my name will be my number-one priority.”
Blood had gotten on his shirt, and he’d taken it off. He was bigger than what she remembered, more muscular … powerful. And God, he’d been strong back in the day, sickeningly so.
Cameron’s enigmatic personality and good looks were what had snagged her from the beginning, but there was so much evil underneath that facade. A psychopath.
“When we get back home, I’m going to show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Her words were distorted from the swelling in her jaw, but he heard her all the same. She might have only had a few months of peace while being away from him, but that time had hardened a piece of her. Sure, the fear had always been there, but now that she was confronted with Cameron after all this time, she saw a difference inside herself.
She was not his weak, docile little punching bag any longer. She would never be that way again.
Aside from his satisfied smile that had only slipped slightly when she told him she wasn’t going anywhere with him, Cameron looked like the professional everyone paid a lot of money to unload their problems on.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Brea.” He knelt beside her, the nauseating scent of his cologne causing bile to rise in her throat. “I’m going to have fun breaking you.” He turned his back to her and started putting his shirt on. “This time away has made you forget who’s in charge. All of that will change, though. I’ll make you remember.”
She turned her head and spat, seeing the saliva-and-blood mixture splatter onto the floor. She’d prayed every night that she’d never be in this situation again.
“How did you find me?” It really didn’t matter at this point, but if she could buy a little bit of time, she might be able to think of some way to get herself out of this.
He didn’t turn around to speak to her. “Aside from the sleazy private investigator I hired to keep tabs on you, you’d be surprised how far money goes.”
She thought about the guy she’d seen, spoken to when she’d been with Adrian at the seaside café. The greasy guy asking about recommendations for him and his wife.
All lies.
He’d been watching her, stalking her for Cameron.
And that had been solidified when he’d just dropped off a duffel, his beady, dark
eyes staring at her as she was secured to the chair, this sick satisfaction and pleasure washing over his face.
Cameron turned around then, his gaze on her as he buttoned his shirt. “Your landlord was also pretty forthcoming in letting your ‘brother’ in when he was told it would be a happy reunion after he’d been gone for so long.” He grinned, eyeing her body, the sick need in his expression a reminder of how he was. “You know, you still look so beautiful when you sleep.”
Oh God.
The bile that she’d successfully kept down rose to the surface with so much force she couldn’t hold it back. When the contents of her stomach were out, she cried out in pain when he grabbed her chin, angling it up to him. He stared at her, maybe wanting to say something but instead looking enraged.
He shoved her head away and went back to buttoning his shirt. “You’ve inconvenienced me, Brea. You’ve made me look like a fool in front of everyone I know. I will not stand for that any longer.” His voice was hard and cold.
The very thought that Cameron had been in her house, watching her sleep, being that close to her, made the ability to stop crying impossible. Actually hearing him admit he had someone following her, watching her and Adrian’s every move and reporting the information back, had her skin tightening in fear and disgust. Just thinking about how the scumbag Cameron had hired to do his dirty work had spoken to her left a bad taste in her mouth.
He would go to any length to destroy her life.
Cameron bent down when his clothes were in place and unzipped the duffel bag said stalking asshole had dropped off before he left. She couldn’t see what he’d gotten out, but she heard the sound of a gun chamber being opened and then closed a second later.
Her heart stopped.
He turned around, her father’s Colt .45 in his hand. Her gaze danced between the gun and his face. She knew he wouldn’t kill her, not yet anyway, but he did like to maim.
“When I found your little getaway bag, I was surprised to find this little beauty tucked in there. You even had the chamber fully loaded. I have to say, love”—he lifted his gaze to her and lifted the gun, his brow rising at the same time—“I find it a turn-on that you were actually going to use this on me.” He tossed the gun back in the bag and then stalked toward her. “Although I’d love to finish what we started right here, I find this atmosphere unattractive.” He scowled and started untying her hands and feet.
He hauled her up by the arms just as the front door splintered open.
The sound of the alarm going off because of it.
The shouts.
This animalistic-sounding growl.
It was all a blur of action and motion, sounds and reality.
Cameron let go of her with a curse, and she sank to her hands and knees, her body too weak to stay standing. The shrill noise from the alarm sounding was dull compared to the curses and shouts that rang out around her. God, the alarm. The police would be here soon. They’d get notified, come to help them … take Cameron away.
Her wrists were raw and bloody, but she braced her hands on the floor and pushed herself up.
The first thing she noticed when she was upright was the front door hanging by its hinges. The second thing was Adrian standing on the threshold, his hand gripping Cameron’s spy by the neck. The guy was beaten up, his lips, mouth, and nose bloody and both his eyes already starting to swell shut.
“You motherfucker.” Adrian’s voice was low and deadly calm. “I’m going to make you pay for everything you put Brea through. I’m going to fucking break every part of you until you’re nothing but a broken mess on the ground by my feet.” Adrian tossed the man aside, and as soon as he hit the floor, he scrambled up and darted out through the broken door.
Adrian didn’t look like himself, like the man she’d fallen in love with. He looked enraged, savage. He looked like a man wanting death covering his hands.
It was just the three of them, and the tension was thick. So very thick.
Her left eye was partially swollen shut and she tasted the tangy flavor of blood, and vomit in her mouth, but the strength had suddenly surged within her. She looked between Adrian and Cameron, saw Adrian look at her for a split second before his full attention was back on Cameron. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his knuckles were white with the force of how tightly his hands were clenched.
Cameron laughed, the same one he used when she’d begged him to stop. “There isn’t anyone, most of all the man who used her for a quick fuck, that can stop me from taking what’s mine.” He took a step toward her, and she took one away.
“Brea, baby, come over here.” Adrian sounded so calm, so sure of the situation.
“She knows her place is by my side.” Cameron’s mocking voice filled the room. “Come here.”
“No.”
The air dropped ten degrees. Cameron turned toward her, the ice in his stare glacial. “Brea.” The way he said her name, as if it were a command she needed to follow, had her resolve growing a foot. “Come. Here. Brea.”
“No, Cameron.”
“I’ll overlook your disobedience this once if you come here now.” He was fully facing her now, the anger radiating off him.
“Don’t talk to her that way, or I’ll make sure you can never say another word again.”
Cameron slowly turned back toward Adrian. “This coming from a man who treats women as if they’re nothing more than a hole to fuck.”
Adrian practically seethed with anger. Cameron was baiting him.
Like a flash of lightning, Adrian charged toward Cameron. The two of them fell to the ground, and a cry tore from Brea’s mouth. She couldn’t let Adrian get hurt. There was no denying he was a fierce fighter and could handle himself, but Cameron was evil incarnate.
The things he was capable of…
23
The sound of glass breaking, wood splintering, the alarm sounding, and fists meeting flesh filled the small room. Everything was happening so quickly with a whirlwind of activity that Brea grew dizzy. She knew what she had to do, and that was get to her gun.
There was no doubt in her mind about it.
The bag was close. So very close. She raced forward and dropped to her knees in front of it. Fingers shaking terribly, she grabbed the gun and pointed it at Cameron, but he and Adrian were rolling around on the ground, trying to top the other. If she missed, she could very easily shoot Adrian.
Although Adrian was a fighter, big and strong, Cameron was also muscular, strong in his own right with this almost insane strength when he let it out. She knew all about the power he held when he came after her, when he’d abused her.
Her purse and all its contents were scattered just a few feet away. Racing toward it, she fell to her knees and grabbed what had caught her eye and shoved it in her pocket.
She turned toward them, and a heartbeat passed before she found the opening she needed, but before she could pull the trigger, Cameron reached out and grabbed a lamp sitting on an end table, slamming it into the side of Adrian’s head before he’d been able to see it, let alone block it.
Adrian stumbled back, shards of ceramic falling to the floor from the impact, blood dripping down Adrian’s temple from the gash the pieces left behind. She almost lost her grip on the gun, the need to rush over to Adrian and make sure he was okay running strong inside of her.
No, she couldn’t be weak, not now. Raising her arms and pointing the gun at Cameron, she tried to steady her breathing, tried to remember her training.
Adrian looked dazed as he blinked several times, the blood and sweat running into his eyes as he shook his head, clearly trying to regain his control.
Cameron stared at her, chest rising and falling from the fight with Adrian. “You’re not going to shoot me. Deep down you care for me, love.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she tried she swallow past it. “You know what?” The only sign of his distress was the cut above his eye, the shadow of a bruise on his cheek, and the steady trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“I’ve always hated you calling me that, and I’ve always hated you.” She pulled the trigger, making sure the barrel was pointing directly at his chest.
The world stopped around her as she stared at Cameron, the smirk on his face triumphant. She pulled the trigger again and again, yet nothing happened.
Nothing. Happened.
A sob tore through her at the same time the gun slipped from her hand, tumbling to the ground.
“I told you you’re not going to shoot me.” He reached into his pocket and held his closed hand up to her. She knew what he had before he opened his palm. The bullets fell and bounced off the hardwood floor as if mocking her. “Now.” His smile vanished, and the evil she knew all too well hit her like a punch to the chest. “I’m going to use you harder than ever. I’m going to make you wish I’d never found you.” He stepped closer until he stood right in front of her.
Brea wanted to move, she really did, but he petrified her and she couldn’t do anything but stand there, staring up at him.
When she looked over at Adrian, it was clear that he was disorientated. He tried to tried push past whatever he felt in that moment. She could see it in the way he blinked continuously, how he rubbed the blood from his eyes, the redness smearing along his face. He shook his head, tried to step forward.
How she wished things could have been different.
Cameron picked up the gun and held it up. “Did you actually think I would leave a loaded weapon where you could reach it?” He tsked and held the barrel between her eyes. There were no bullets in it, but it didn’t matter because even if there were, she would have welcomed death.
She closed her eyes, refusing to show fear to him. He got off on it. He murmured things to her, things she blocked out because the ringing in her ears was too loud. Her pocket, she had it in her pocket.
The pepper spray was in her hands within a second, and she placed her finger on the trigger. This was it; once she sprayed him in the eyes, she needed to get her and Adrian out of the house, needed to call the cops. She needed to use those precious few moments to her advantage.
