Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset

by Morgan, M. G.

  Cami clenched her fists against her sides. Her initial instincts about him had been right, yet she hadn't listened. She'd almost allowed herself to be taken in by his pretty words and charming smile.

  Idiot!

  She watched him locked in a passionate embrace, unable to look away. Cami shuddered as she realised what was really going on.

  Just moments before he'd been flirting with her—or at least it had felt as though he was flirting—and now he stood on the far side of the bar getting jerked off by a drunken groupie.

  Maybe she'd misread the entire situation? Why would he flirt with her in the first place? She clearly wasn't his type, as was evident from the way he was grinding against the girl pressed tightly to his body.

  They moved apart and Cami watched as he shot a look she couldn't read towards one of his bandmates. He was probably gloating over such an impressive conquest.

  Disgust welled within Cami, but it was more for herself than for Griffin. She'd been a fool to think he was anything but the man-whore she'd suspected him to be the moment she'd first clapped eyes on him.

  He caught her staring at him and Cami mentally kicked herself. What he did was none of her business, and the fact that she was standing there watching him like some star-struck teenager left a nasty taste in her mouth.

  That wasn't who she was; she'd never been impressed by status or money, and she wasn't about to start now.

  He looked back towards the brunette, who seemed to be crying, and Cami rolled her eyes. Why anyone felt the need to drink themselves into an emotional stupor was beyond her.

  Turning away from the scene playing out in front of her, she glanced down into the ice bin.

  Practically empty.

  It wasn't really, of course. She had more than enough to get her through the rest of the night, but it was the perfect excuse to escape the stifling air and whatever seduction game Griffin seemed to be intent on playing with her.

  Grabbing the ice bucket that sat next to the bin, Cami headed for the back door that led to the alley. She pushed the door open and the cold night air swirled around her, causing her to shiver despite the long-sleeved shirt she wore.

  Refilling the ice bin was normally a job she avoided like the plague. Fintan regularly lectured her for allowing the bin to practically run empty some nights, but tonight she could barely get outside fast enough.

  Cami crossed the alley to the storage building Fintan owned. Unhooking the keys from her belt, she lifted them up to the padlock, but stopped when the sound of a panicked voice met her ears.

  "You can't do this…"

  The sentence was punctuated by a gunshot. It cracked the night air, ripping through the silence.

  Cami fell against the locked door of the storage shed, her heart hammering loud enough to drown out any other sounds in the alley.

  She dropped the bucket, the metallic rattle clanging against the cold ground.

  Cami started towards the sound of the gunshot, ignoring her instincts screaming at her to run in the opposite direction. And yet still she moved forward. A memory from her past drilled down into her bones, forcing her muscles to react and pushing her towards the back of the alley.

  The darkness at the end of the alley shifted and moved, flowing fluidly towards her before breaking away from the bulk of the black. A shape darted towards her, a figure in black crashing into her.

  Cami opened her mouth to scream but the sound never made it past her lips. The force of the blow as she hit the hard ground knocked the air out of her lungs.

  Her head hit the ground, pain exploding behind her eyes in a flash of brilliant white light before the darkness that had swirled at the bottom of the alley crashed around her, swallowing her whole.

  Chapter 5

  Standing outside the front of the bar, Griffin stared down at his watch, watching the minutes tick by painfully slow. Spike had made it sound like an emergency, and yet where the hell was he?

  A car screeched into the parking lot and Griffin stepped forward, instantly recognising the beat up Dodge Charger Spike drove. It didn't seem to matter how many new cars he bought, they always looked as though they'd just been involved in some sort of crash.

  Spike hopped out of the car and slammed the door shut, strolling around the front and meeting Griffin halfway across the parking lot.

  "I thought you said he was going to be here?" Griffin asked, his voice betraying the irritation he felt towards Spike. His jaw hurt and he owed Spike for the way he'd behaved earlier; it was just a matter of when Griffin would deliver his own form of payback.

  "Steve rang and said he was on his way over here, said he wanted to meet out back…"

  "How the hell did he know where we were?" Griffin asked, falling into step beside Spike as they walked towards the side of the bar.

  "I guess someone told him. I figured maybe it was you." Spike shot him a sideways glance.

  "Why the hell would I tell him where we were? If I did that I'd have to tell him what was going on and we agreed that was strictly out of the question."

  Spike nodded and continued around the bar. "Come on, Griff, what was I supposed to think? Out of everyone, you're the goody-goody. If anyone was going to tell Steve what was going on and where we were laying low, it'd be you. Even you've got to admit to that."

  Griffin didn't respond as they reached the mouth of an alley that ran along the back of the bar. The street lights only extended so far into the side street and Griffin found himself straining to pick out the details that sat near the end of the alley.

  There was a small light on over what he presumed was a back door that led into Holey Moley's, the pool of light extending to a small metal bucket that sat on its side near the edge of darkness that spilled up from the bottom of the alley.

  An icy sensation spread down Griffin's spine as he stepped into the alley. There was something off about the entire situation. Surely if Steve had made it over to the bar he wouldn't be lurking in the darkness?

  "Steve!" Spike called out, the sudden noise making Griffin nervous.

  They waited in silence, but there was no answer.

  "I guess he's not here yet," Spike said as he started to turn away from the alley.

  A faint noise reached Griffin's ears and he took a step forward, his feet carrying him halfway down the alley before he gave any thought to what he was doing.

  A soft moan drifted up from the darkness and Griffin sprinted toward it. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach curled up, wrapping around his chest.

  Griffin spotted Cami just as he was about to trip over her prone body. She lay on her back, her already pale skin devoid of the rosy hue he'd admired earlier and her red hair spread out beneath her head. For a second, Griffin felt his heart stutter to a halt in his chest.

  Dropping to his knees, he gathered her up against his chest. She moaned again, the small, pained sound filling him with relief. If she was making noise, she wasn't dead.

  "Cami, can you hear me? Cami, wake up." He kept his voice low, not wanting to frighten her as she slowly climbed out of unconsciousness.

  His hands caught in her hair and he could feel the raised lump on the back of her skull.

  Her eyelids flickered open and she stared up at him with her brilliant green eyes, confusion clouding them.

  "What's going on? Where am I?" Her voice sounded croaky and low as she struggled to sit up, straining away from his grip.

  "You're safe. Don't move. I don't know how badly you're hurt."

  She groaned in response and pushed against his arms. "Griffin, cut it out. Let me up."

  He was forced to let her go; although tempting, the alternative of holding her pinned against his body was something he knew she wouldn't tolerate.

  She sat up and pressed her hand against the back of her head, a look of pain marring her face.

  "How'd I get out here?" she asked, peering around at the darkness that surrounded them.

  "You mean you don't remember?" Griffin crouched down in front o
f her.

  Spike caught his eye as he passed by them on his way down the alley, a strange look that Griffin found himself unable to read crossing the other man’s face.

  "No, I don't remember. My head hurts and I'm freezing, but I have no clue why."

  Griffin gestured to the bucket that lay on its side, illuminated by the pool of light cast by the bare bulb over the back door.

  "I guess the bucket has something to do with it."

  Cami turned and stared at the bucket, a frown creasing her brow. "I must have been coming out to get some ice…"

  She turned back to face Griffin, the look on her face the same one he recognised from the bar. Pure disgust, aimed squarely at him.

  "I came out here to get away from you and the good time you were having."

  "Cami, I…" Griffin started to speak, the urge to explain what had happened almost overwhelming him. But she cut him off before he could finish, dismissing his words with a wave of her hands.

  "Look, don't bother. It's none of my business and I really don't want to hear it. What you do in your free time is entirely up to you." She started to push herself up to her feet. Griffin reached out to help, but she pushed him away.

  "Nope, I'm fine. I just need some painkillers."

  "Uh, I don't mean to spoil this special moment between you two but I think we've got a problem on our hands." Spike's voice broke through the tension that Griffin could feel building.

  There was something odd in Spike's voice that brought the uneasiness Griffin had felt before he'd found Cami flooding back once more.

  "What is it?" Griffin asked, hopping up from the cold ground and keeping a watchful eye on Cami as she stood unsteadily next to him.

  "It's Steve," Spike said, stepping towards them, the look on his face twisting Griffin's stomach.

  "Who's Steve?" Cami asked, rubbing the back of her head.

  "Our manager," Griffin answered, turning his full attention to the space beyond Spike. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the alley, allowing him to pick out what looked like a bundle of rags on the ground.

  "He's dead. Shot in the head execution style." Spike's voice was deadpan but the look he shot Griffin spoke volumes.

  "That's not possible. How the hell could he be dead?" Griffin headed in the direction of the dark shape on the ground.

  He paused just next to the body. Steve's lifeless eyes stared up at him blankly, a neat little hole in his forehead, a small trickle of blood dried against his pasty skin.

  "Jesus Christ!" Griffin said, his stomach turning violently as he stared down at the body of the man he'd spoken to only hours before. The man who'd behaved more like a father to him than his real father ever had.

  Griffin felt the back of his throat close in, and he was unable to tear his gaze away from Steve’s blank stare. Steve's knees were bent beneath him, as though he'd been on them the moment whoever had killed him had pulled the trigger.

  For a second Griffin couldn't help but wonder if he was uncomfortable lying there on the cold ground. It was a stupid thought, an irrational thought, and yet it flashed through his head all the same.

  It was probably just his mind's way of telling him that the situation wasn't real. It certainly didn't feel real.

  Griffin spun away from the body and stared back down the alley. Cami's gaze met his, the green of her eyes made all the brighter by the tears that welled and tipped over the edge of her lashes.

  Go to her, comfort her. The voice in the back of his head piped up and, without really thinking about what he was doing, Griffin took a step forward before he caught himself.

  He couldn't go to her. They were practically strangers, and the look he'd seen in her eyes earlier still haunted him. If she rejected him, he wasn't sure how he would deal with it.

  "I don't understand. How did this happen?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable.

  "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd be able to tell us that," Spike said, moving towards her. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, jerking her body towards his before Griffin could intervene.

  "Did you do this? Did they hire you to kill him?" He shook her as though trying to shake the truth from her.

  "What the hell are you talking about? Who are they?" Cami asked, pulling free of Spike's vicious hold.

  "Who are they?" Spike parroted her words back to her, a deranged smile on his face as he shot a look at Griffin. "Can you believe her? She's pretending she doesn't know what I'm talking about." He took a menacing step towards her, causing her to back up.

  "Spike, cut it out. There's no way she's involved in any of this. You can tell by the look on her face that she doesn't know anything." Griffin strode forward and placed his body between Spike and Cami, forcing them apart.

  "Well she must know something. Why else would she have been out here on the ground? She must have seen something, heard something?"

  Griffin nodded as Spike spoke and shot a glance back at Cami, but she just shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

  "I don't remember anything. I left the bar and that's it, the rest is a blank…" She groaned in frustration and Griffin reached out to comfort her, squeezing his hand against her shoulder. She looked up at him.

  "You believe me, don't you? I don't even know who he is, so why would I kill him?"

  "We've got a big problem on our hands, Griff. You know who did this…"

  It was Griffin's turn to shake his head. "We don't know anything for certain, Spike. Maybe it was a robbery gone wrong. We're not going to know for sure until we call the cops and they go over the scene."

  "No way. We can't get the cops involved, Griff. Have you lost your mind completely? If we do that, then what do you think will happen next? You heard them, they said strictly no police. It was one of the terms of the deal."

  "Yeah, Spike, that was before they decided to decorate the alley with Steve's brains. We have to call the cops. There’s no choice in the matter."

  "Look, I know someone who can help, who can clear this mess up like it never happened. All I need to do is give him a call and…"

  "Spike, you're out of your mind."

  "I didn't ask for any of this. I don't even know who he is. If you call the cops, I was never here," Cami said, her voice tinged with fear and panic.

  "See? Even she thinks we shouldn't call them in."

  "No, I just can't…" She trailed off and turned away from the body.

  Griffin watched as she sucked in a deep breath and let it puff out before finally swinging back around.

  "We should call the cops. We can't do this; that man was murdered and…"

  "Griffin, if we get the cops involved, think of what they'll do to us and what they'll do to the people we care about. You know we can't. If we get the cops involved, then everything we've worked for is done…"

  Griffin covered his eyes and pressed his palms against his skull; if he could just apply the right amount of pressure, then maybe it'd all become clear. Spike was right: if they knew the cops were involved, then everybody they loved was as good as dead.

  Griffin pulled his hands away from his face and stared into Cami's wide and frightened eyes. She hadn't asked for this, and yet he knew the people who were after them wouldn't hesitate to murder her too. She was a witness, even if she didn't remember what happened.

  Spike leaned in against Griffin’s shoulder and whispered against his ear as though able to read his mind. "You know what they'll do to her. You know the things he'll do to her body, the things he'll let his men do to her before he blows her brains out and dumps her body in a ditch somewhere…"

  Griffin swallowed hard and tried to push the violent image from his mind.

  "No cops."

  The moment he spoke the words Griffin felt as though he'd somehow sealed his own fate. Guilt instantly began to gnaw at him, a guilt that burrowed down into his soul. He doubted he'd ever be able to root it out.

  But guilt was something he could deal with; it was better than the alternative. The
thought of having innocent blood on his hands, of having her blood on his hands, was a fate much worse than feeling a few pangs of guilt.

  Chapter 6

  Relief washed through Cami and it made her instantly sick to her stomach. How the hell could she feel relief over something so horrible? She'd just agreed to be complicit in the cover-up of a murder. Had she completely lost her mind?

  Perhaps the stress of the last few months—no, years—had finally tipped her over the edge. It was the only possible reason she could find for it. She wasn't this type of person, the type who stood in the way of justice.

  But when had justice ever helped her?

  Cami tried to pull her gaze away from the body on the ground, but she couldn't.

  Did he have a family? Was there a wife waiting up for him to come home to her, kiss her on the cheek and tell her he loved her? Did he have kids, innocently sleeping in their beds with happy dreams of playtime with daddy dancing through their heads?

  Dreams of things they would never again get to enjoy.

  Cami was all too familiar with what it was like to wake up to a nightmare that never seemed to end. She knew what it meant to have a happy childhood ripped away in the blink of an eye.

  She closed her eyes and turned away. Even that was a lie. She didn't know what it was to have a happy childhood, but it was just easier to pretend that she did. And she'd spent so long keeping up the lie that sometimes she caught herself believing it.

  Her cell phone buzzed and Cami reached into her pocket and drew it out, the light from the screen momentarily blinding her as she pulled up the text message.

  Sophie's name flashed across the screen and for a second Cami felt her entire body clench up with fear. There was something wrong. Sophie wouldn’t text her for any other reason.

  Gone to Carolyn's house for the sleepover, thought you were going to be back before I left. See you tomorrow.

  The tone of the text message held a vague hint of accusation, and Cami glanced down at the time. She'd promised to be home, but that had been before Fintan had asked her to stay on at work because he wasn't feeling well.