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A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House)

Page 4

by Reese, Jaime


  "You want me to help?" Cam asked again.

  "More like you're going to do it and we'll help. Matt does not have a green thumb, he's tried, and I wouldn't know the difference between a"—Julian looked at his notes—"Bougainvy and Lirop."

  Cameron chuckled. "Bougainvillea and Liriope."

  "See, there you go."

  Having the chance to do all the landscaping needed from setting up the flower beds to picking out the plants was just too damn exciting. He wanted to jump at the chance but had learned years ago not to get too enthusiastic about things since they usually ended in some disappointment. "Yeah, okay."

  Julian responded with a half smile.

  Cameron nodded. Nope, he wasn't getting excited. Not even a little bit.

  After dinner, apparently it was Matt's turn to do the dishes for the evening. Cam and Julian retreated to the living room area tasked with choosing something to watch on TV. Julian sat on the couch and grabbed the remote.

  Cam stood silently and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Change," he finally said, shuffling his feet.

  Julian looked up at him and set the remote back on the table.

  "You wanted to know the trigger for the attacks."

  "Then you're shit out of luck. Change is inevitable. Get used to it," Julian said.

  "Gee, thanks." Cam looked away for a moment. "I'm not used to people being nice to me," he said uncomfortably. Maybe stroking the guy's ego about his partner would stop him from poking around in Cam's business. "Matt was…nice."

  "That's his nature. You're going to have to get used to that if you're living here. Try again."

  "You're a stubborn son of a bitch."

  Julian half shrugged. "I've been called worse. Don't change the subject."

  Cam exhaled dramatically. "The thought of going back to prison, back to that life."

  Julian looked at him intently, encouraging him to continue.

  "And that all this wasn't real somehow," he finished quietly. "Hard to explain."

  "Try," Julian said, glaring.

  Cam shrugged and looked away.

  "Matt's always telling me to 'use my words'," Julian said, mimicking Matt's understanding tone. "It's not easy but talking does help."

  Cam exhaled heavily then looked up, searching for the right words. Matt and Julian were so different from everyone else he'd met in the last few years. If Sam trusted them, then maybe they weren't like the others. "It's not easy being inside. Some guys are built for that shit but it's tough. I adjusted as best as I could and figured out early on what I needed to do to make it. Every now and then, I lose my focus and I think about the what-if."

  "The what-if?"

  Cam shook his head. "It's stupid. I know better, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like…"

  "To have a normal life, a home, and someone to love who'd love you back regardless of all your fucked up shit," Julian finished his thought.

  Cam looked over to him with newfound understanding. "Yeah."

  "Then reality sets in and you freak out because you want it so much you can almost touch it but then realize it's either not real or it's slipping away," Julian added in a faraway voice.

  Cam nodded.

  "Understandable basis for a freak-out."

  "You sound a little more insightful about this than the usual person," Cam observed.

  Julian crossed his arms and leaned back in the couch. "This is about you not me. I take it that's why putting you by the window settled you. It let you know you weren't in prison anymore."

  "I don't know. I guess it helped to know I wasn't back there," he said quietly. In that hell.

  Julian nodded. "Duly noted. Aside from panic attacks, what else is there? Do you get angry?"

  "What?"

  "Pissed off, hatin' life, pitch a fit, shit like that. Do I need to worry we've got a hothead under our roof?"

  Cam shook his head then shrugged. "I guess that's probably what most people would expect. Yeah, I get pissed, I'm human, but I try not to get lost in that shit. I've seen what hate does to a man." He shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked away. "I don't want to be that guy. I know my limits and I know my temper enough to control it most of the time. I have the occasional panic attack when I make the mistake of wishing for something more. It's more embarrassing than anything."

  "It's not a mistake to dream or have hope," Julian said firmly.

  "Well, that shit gets beaten out of you pretty quick inside."

  Julian leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting his arms on his thighs. "There's nothing wrong with wanting for something then fighting like hell to get it or freaking out when you think it's going to be taken away."

  "It's a weakness."

  "It's called being human," Julian corrected.

  Cam winced.

  "You just need to ease back into things. Pace yourself. If you feel the need to punch something, it better not have a pulse. Understand?"

  Cam nodded.

  "When you sense yourself starting to get overwhelmed and need to talk, just call me."

  "I don't have a phone."

  "Matt will get you one."

  "I don't need one."

  "Matt wants to get you a phone, so you're getting a phone. It won't be fancy. I think one of the rules is that it can't have a camera. He'll know."

  "But I don't—"

  "Don't upset Matt," Julian said, punctuating his statement with another glare.

  "Okay."

  Lying in bed later that evening, Cam thought about Matt and Julian. Had he seen them apart, he never would have guessed they were a couple simply because they were so different in personalities and appearances. But after being in the same room with them for a short period of time, it was impossible to deny the sizzle in the air, the subtle touches, the casual glances—they just worked, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces that were meant to fit together perfectly.

  Cameron yawned as sleep weighed his eyes.

  He wondered what it would be like to be that attuned to another person. He didn't think he'd ever get a chance to connect with someone on that level considering his history, but it sure as hell didn't stop him from wanting it as he finally shut his eyes and let sleep take over.

  Cameron shot upright in bed. His heart raced as he looked side to side. It's just a dream. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. He gripped the sheets then slowly opened his eyes again. Looking around at his new room, Cameron realized this part of the dream was actually real. He got out of bed and walked over to the window.

  Before he was moved to the C Block, his first cell had a small slit of an opening along the top edge. It was too high in the cell and too narrow to actually enjoy a view past the metal bars and mesh but enough to allow small rays of light to cut through and form a mild honeycomb pattern along the wall against his cot. After his relocation to the C wing soon after the start of his term, windows were non-existent in cells. He was only allowed outside into the common areas on specific days, during certain times, typically in the middle of the afternoon when the heat was at its worst and the sun at its highest point; where a look up would leave one blinded for doing so. That was assuming, of course, he wasn't in solitary or some other conveniently scheduled punishment that conflicted with the scheduled days. After so many years unable to feel the heat of the sun against his skin, he had become pale and his hair darker than he ever remembered.

  He recalled one of his meetings with Sam.

  "What do you miss the most?" Sam had asked.

  "Sunrises."

  "Not family or friends?" Sam asked with a frown.

  "Sunrises," Cam firmly restated.

  His father and sister hadn't visited him in prison. He had accepted it.

  Seeing the bright, beautiful sun on those few occasions, although blinding and painful at times, was a welcomed reprieve. Missing the view of the rising sun was unbearable.

  The sunrise was a symbol of a new start. When they were taken away, so was his hope for a new beginning.<
br />
  Cam placed his palm on the glass and felt the warmth of the outside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath then rested his forehead to the window's edge before finally opening his eyes again.

  Still in the early morning hours, he could see the beginnings of a sunrise casting a hint of light across the clouds. He stared out into the sky, waiting for the sun to make its appearance. He didn't care if the buildings were blocking most of his view; the sun would rise above them and color the sky in various shades of pink, yellow, and blue.

  His first sunrise in almost a decade.

  This was as close to free as he had been in so many years.

  Lost in thought, Cameron didn't know how long he stood there with his memories, observing the wash of colors spread across the sky. After the sun completed its ascension, he remained there for some time, watching the start of the day, the people walking in the street, the cars driving by. So much activity, color, and beauty.

  He smiled as he thought about dinner the night before and the effort Matt and Julian had made to welcome him. It was nice to be involved, matter to someone, finally have a normal conversation and contribute something to a productive discussion.

  Shaking his head free of the spiraling thoughts, he concentrated on the here and now. He couldn't resist the thought of taking another shower.

  As he stood under the showerhead and let the blissfully warm rain of water soak him, he lathered up with that citrus soap he was starting to love. He absently washed himself as his mind wandered to the same nightmare that haunted him—he was finally out of prison, but somehow they managed to find him and send him back inside as soon as they'd heard he was free.

  It wasn't paranoia.

  He had been watched, constantly. They had men inside, both inmates and guards, who kept him in check with subtle threats and unmistakable innuendo to ensure he kept to himself. He was always on alert, careful of what he said and to whom. He began a slow friendship with the first inmate he shared a room with. The need to interact with someone was just too tempting. As soon as the comfort level rose, Cameron was sent to isolation for no apparent reason. When he returned to his cell a week later, he was greeted by a different cellmate. He never heard from his friend again or saw him on the prison grounds.

  When Sam insisted on pushing for an early release, Cameron knew it was pointless to resist Sam's perseverance. All Cam requested of him was to try to keep it quiet with as little interaction as possible with the required personnel. Sam was perplexed at first, but perceptive. Sam never questioned him further.

  He toweled off and rummaged through the closet looking for something to wear. He found a pair of jeans that fit comfortably and a white shirt. Finally dressed, he made his way downstairs following the smell of brewing coffee.

  "Good morning," Matt greeted him when he arrived to the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

  Cam nodded as he accepted the cup of coffee. No need to mention the recurring nightmare.

  "Have you thought about what you'd like to do yet?"

  "Are you talking about a job for now or something deeper here?" Cam asked then kicked himself for sounding harsh.

  Matt laughed. "I'm referring to a job. I want to know if you've got any particular interest in mind so I can check our list of business partners for a match."

  "Oh. Honestly, I don't care. Any job would be fine. I don't mind what I do as long as I'm not the center of attention or wearing a chicken suit or something."

  "You're going to wear a chicken suit?" Julian asked as he entered the kitchen.

  Cameron glared at Julian and heard Matt snicker as he handed Julian a mug.

  Julian grinned before sipping his coffee.

  "Be nice, J."

  Julian chuckled. "What about the diner? Bill called me last week to ask if we'd had our first guest arrive yet. I think he's really worried about Lucy," he finished quietly.

  "Diner?" Cam asked.

  Matt nodded. "Lucy and her husband, Bill, have a diner a few blocks down by the business district. It's a small shop but it's been there for quite some time. Sandwiches, coffee, baked goods, stuff like that," Matt replied.

  "Best damn cookies I've ever had," Julian quickly added in between sips of his coffee. "She makes all the stuff right there at the diner."

  "Is that something you'd be interested in?" Matt asked.

  Cameron shrugged. It sounded low-key, quiet, and casual. "Sounds fine."

  Julian pushed off from the counter. "I'll give her a call. Maybe she'll like you and won't make you wear the muffin suit during sales," he said before leaving the kitchen.

  "Don't listen to him," Matt said, waving his hand in the air. "Did you get a chance to go through the paperwork and handbook? Do you have any questions?"

  Cam was momentarily distracted, still hanging on Julian's last words. "No questions."

  "Okay. Well, if anything comes up just ask. I know it's a lot to take in."

  Cam nodded. No kidding.

  Julian rejoined them a few moments later. "Lucy's cool with Cam working there and is anxious to meet him. Said anytime was good. I'm on my way to run a few errands. I can drop you guys off at the diner."

  Matt looked over at Cam, waiting for an answer.

  This is quick. Out one day, job the next. "Let me call that number first to see if I need to do a drug test today then I'm ready to go."

  "Great, I'll get the forms while you make your call," Matt eagerly said.

  "Hi, Lucy," Matt greeted the older woman.

  "Hello, sweetheart," she responded with an embrace. "Where is your young man?" she asked Matt.

  "He dropped us off and had to leave but asked me to beg you to save a cookie for him this afternoon," he said with a flush of color in his face.

  Lucy smiled and patted his cheek. "You boys and your sweets." She laughed softly then looked over to Cameron.

  Cam didn't know what to say or do so he did what he knew best…stand still and stay quiet while he observed his surroundings. The diner sat on the corner of the building, two sides framed with windows from top to bottom, which provided an easy view of the neighboring streets. He looked around and liked the cozy atmosphere. The place was welcoming but seemed more like a bakery than a diner. Absent was the traditional barstool counter area. Instead, the sitting area was off to the left side with a little over a dozen small tables to easily accommodate a respectable lunch-size crowd. To his right, a glass case with clear shelves of various cold salads and sandwich ingredients began on one corner and joined with a smaller glass display of baked goods before reaching the cash register at the center of the diner. Behind the register area, he could see an open doorway leading to a back room with a large wall oven and more shelving.

  "You must be Cameron," Lucy said quietly.

  He responded with a nod and half smile then looked down. "You can call me Cam. It's nice to meet you, Lucy."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Would you be able to start today?" she asked.

  "That would be fine," he responded. He would love to start immediately and find something to do to keep busy. Although he liked his new room, he was anxious to actually have a job and work—something he hadn't had a chance to do since he was a teenager.

  "Great!" Matt enthusiastically remarked. "I've actually got the paperwork here."

  After leaving the necessary forms, Matt left Cameron alone with Lucy. As usual, Cam fell silent.

  "Why don't we start by showing you around," Lucy said, breaking into his thoughts. She carefully wrapped her arm around his and watched him, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

  He looked at Lucy appraisingly. She had that maternal quality that felt as if she could hold you in an embrace and soothe all the wrongs in the world. He placed his large hand on her smaller one and smiled.

  She returned the smile and guided him around the little diner. She led him toward the back area, and he saw several ovens, a countertop with various-sized mixing bowls and baking tools. Off to the side was a small desk area, which pro
bably doubled as their office, in between stacks of boxes.

  "This is my little piece of heaven," she said with a smile.

  "You like to bake stuff?" he asked.

  "I'm the baker and Bill is the sandwich guy," she said with a warm smile. The love for her husband was obvious in her wistful expression. She neared Cam and whispered, "It's why we call it a diner and not a bakery."

  Cameron genuinely laughed.

  "Bill has a bad back so I usually have the boxes of supplies stacked in the corners when they're delivered. He's stubborn, so he won't admit he can't do it."

  "Got it."

  She walked over to the far end of the room and began trying to push away a few boxes. Cam immediately jumped in and lifted the boxes out of the way. She opened the double door and revealed an empty storage closet.

  "Um, why is the closet empty?" he asked. "Most of the stuff in these boxes can probably fit in there. That would help organize things and free up some space to sort out the front and this back room," he asked perplexed. Seemed logical as hell to him to actually use the storage closet.

  She patted Cam on the shoulder. "Sweetheart, you're working with two very old people who can't lift more than a tray of baked goods."

  Cam nodded. "I'll take care of it. How are you guys with reaching and steps?" he asked, remembering that his mom used to use a tiny step stool to reach the upper levels of their pantry.

  "Reaching is fine, one or two steps would work as well."

  "Got it," he said while his mind immediately started cataloging things he could do with the closet space.

  "Bill should be here shortly. Let me get you an apron and go through the different items and prices. I've also got to show you how to work the machines and the register. We have tons to do. Come, come," she said excitedly.

  "Um, Lucy, one question," Cam asked hesitantly.

  "Yes," she asked.

  "Uh, do I have to wear a muffin suit or something like that?"

  Lucy scrunched her eyebrows. "Remind me to smack Julian when he comes by to pick you up later," she said as she walked away, shaking her head.

  "Hunter, I need you to take these additional cases," Chief Assistant State Attorney Melanie Richards said as she handed over the files.

 

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