Camden

by Xio Axelrod

  Yara sank down into her chair. Maybe eating out hadn't been such a good idea.

  "It's only temporary," Cam said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She nodded, her eyes trained on the world outside. Across the street, two women embraced. Their happy laughter struck a chord of pain in her chest. She missed her family, missed her friends. She wanted to call Siv, wanted to hear a familiar voice. She missed the other girls, missed making music.

  A big, warm hand landed on hers, drawing her attention.

  "I promise," Cam squeezed, and Yara snapped her gaze up to his. "This is only temporary."

  They were mostly silent through dinner. Yara begrudgingly admitted that mussels were not, in fact, slimy when properly cooked. They'd been delicate and flavorful, and she'd scarfed them down under Cam's approving eye.

  He'd inhaled his burger. Yara wasn't even sure he'd chewed the massive thing. He'd also eaten his fries and half of hers too.

  By the time they left the bar, it was nearly ten. The sidewalks were busy with club-goers and late-night diners. They walked side-by-side in silence.

  "Thanks for dinner," Yara said as they turned on 2nd Street.

  A powerful arm banded around her waist, hauling her into a doorway, and Yara squeaked.

  "Stay here," Cam whispered before disappearing.

  Yara began to shake. What the fuck?

  Then she heard voices and went still, straining to hear.

  "Can I help you?" That was Cam.

  "Nah, man, just walking." Another man, his accent decidedly local.

  "You've been walking behind us for three blocks." Anyone else might have missed the lethal edge in Cam's voice, but Yara hadn't. She peered around the door frame, careful to stay in its shadow.

  She could see them, Cam facing off with another man. The guy was dressed in a flak jacket and khakis, a hat pulled low over his face. She remembered seeing him when they stepped out of the bar. Had he been following them? Cam evidently thought so.

  "Is it against the law to walk these days?"

  "No," Cam replied, crowding the guy's personal space. "Not illegal to walk, no. Stalking, however, that's a criminal offense."

  "You a cop?"

  Cam shook his head, sizing the guy up. He had a few inches on him, and at least twenty-five pounds of muscle. Yara watched as the man made the same assessment.

  "Look, dude. I'm not looking for trouble." The shorter man, fair-skinned with bluntly cropped, blond hair put his hands up between them.

  "What are you looking for, then?"

  The man peered around Cam, in Yara's general direction. Or tried to. When they guy pivoted, Cam did too, effectively cutting off his line of sight.

  "Your girl looked familiar, is all. Thought I knew her."

  "You don't." Cam's words landed like boulders at their feet, leaving no room to wiggle.

  "Okay, okay." The other man backed up, his hands still up, palms out. "Sorry, man."

  Cam remained silent and stood there like a sentinel until the guy turned the corner.

  Carefully, Yara stepped out of the shadows. She inched up behind Cam, which turned out to be a whopper of a bad idea.

  Before she knew it, he had her up against the brick wall of the building. She had just enough time to register his large hands on her waist, his hard chest pressed against hers, his breath ghosting over her hair. Everything about Camden Skinner overwhelmed her.

  "Shit!" He released her almost as soon as he had her, but he stayed close, breathing hard. "Shit, Yara. Shit, are you okay?"

  "I-I'm fine. Are you?"

  Yara looked up into the shadows of his face as his gaze roamed over her. Worried. He was worried. And...something else. There was heat in his glare, and it poured into her, traveling straight to her core.

  "I'm okay," she reassured him, a little breathless.

  He nodded, exhaling. "Right."

  "Reporter?" She nodded toward the direction where the man had disappeared.

  "Maybe," Cam said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Hopefully."

  He met her gaze. He didn't need to voice the other option.

  Kaine.

  "Do you really think he tried to kill me?" Yara hadn't let herself actually contemplate that scenario. It all seemed so...far-fetched. But the look in Cam's eyes gave her the answer.

  "After I meet with him tomorrow, I'll know. Until then..."

  Yara nodded and followed him back to the inn. It wasn't her apartment, wasn't home, but it was all she had. For now. Cam's arm across her shoulder made her want to weep. She didn't want him to leave, didn't want to be alone.

  It's only temporary, she repeated his words in her mind when he bid her goodnight. This is only temporary.

  Eight

  The plan was simple enough.

  Go up to New York and meet with Kaine, get a feel for what he knew and what he didn't. Camden wasn't the obvious choice since he hadn't been the point man on Yara's original case, but Cam was damned if he'd let anyone else take point this time around.

  Marcus Kaine was five-feet-nine-inches of pure scum, and Cam had never wanted to breathe the same air as him again. Forty-five-ish with olive skin, stringy, cement-blond hair, wearing a shiny suit, and a fucking pinky ring, the man reeked of a predator. He was almost a caricature.

  According to what Rory had dug up, Kaine had a history of near-misses with the law. Solicitation, drugs, firearms, domestic violence, the guy's rap sheet read like the casting call for an asshole crime boss on a BBC drama.

  He'd gone "legit" twenty years ago when he started scouting young talent in the Miami area, usually girls. Some as young as thirteen.

  Cam didn't want to think of what Kaine may have gotten away with under the guise of managing those young women.

  Knowing that Kaine had exploited Yara the way he had, had probably done the same to a dozen teens or more, turned Cam's stomach. That they now suspected him of taking it a step or ten further, of trying to have Yara murdered, or at least leaving her for dead when he saw what it could do for his bottom line? Cam wanted to fucking end the guy.

  But he smiled when Kaine smiled and held out his hand to shake.

  "Camden, buddy. How's it hanging?" The light glinted off his porcelain veneers when he spoke.

  "Mr. Kaine."

  "Please, call me Marcus." He gestured for Cam to sit in the chair opposite, which he did. "We have too much history to be all formal and shit."

  "Marcus, then." Cam forced his body into a relaxed position. Ankle hitched up on his knee. Arm leaning across the back of the chair. Casual. Non-threatening.

  "So, what brings you to Manhattan?"

  "I had business across town. Thought I'd drop by. Wanted to see if you needed us to come in on the Yara case again, help with the search or anything."

  Kaine frowned. "No, we're good."

  "Don't need a cleanup?"

  "Why would we? She's dead, case closed." Kaine opened a desk drawer to his right and brought out a bag of red candy. Swedish Fish. Must have been five pounds there.

  "You don't seem too broken up about it."

  The other man paused to look at Cam. "It sucks, she was a good kid when she wasn't challenging me on every little fucking thing."

  Cam swallowed the words he wanted to say and forced out the ones he needed to.

  "Makes your life a hell of a lot easier, I guess."

  Kaine shoved a handful in his mouth and chewed, mouth hanging open like a cow's. He held the bag out in offering, and Cam shook his head.

  "No, thanks."

  Kaine eyed him while he chewed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you thought I had something to do with the accident."

  "Is that what we're calling it?"

  Kaine met his gaze head on. "That's what it was."

  He swallowed the mouthful of sugar and red dye and folded his hands on his desk.

  "Yara had ideas of her own, and everyone knows that in my stable it's my way or the highway. I don't force these girls to sign on the dotted lin
e. They do it because they know what I can do for them. If they have a problem with it, there's the door. But I keep what's mine. They're welcome to start over somewhere else."

  "Rumor has it you aren't so eager to let the girls go."

  Kaine smiled with red, sticky teeth. "Would you? I'd do anything legal to keep them under contract. I wouldn't hurt my girls, though. Never that." He sat back, his gaze drifting to the window. When he spoke again, Cam caught a hint of genuine regret.

  "We searched for days. Some of that cost came out of my own pocket."

  "Which you'll make back off of her music, and then some."

  Kaine turned back to him. "That's a crime?"

  After a beat, Cam shrugged. Nodded. The guy was a lecherous asshole, but maybe he wasn't a murderer.

  "You're all covered then? No loose ends?"

  "Tight as a nun's taint," Kaine joked, cramming more candy into his mouth. Cam fought not to flinch, but he must have. "I'm kidding, relax. Look, I appreciate you coming by and all, but I'm afraid it's been a poor use of your time."

  Kaine leaned forward and gestured for Cam to do the same. He did, fractionally.

  "Between you and me, this is probably the best thing that could have happened to Yara, career-wise."

  Beneath the desk, Cam dug his fingernails into his thigh. "You lost me."

  Kaine sat back. "Let's face it, she was a dime-a-dozen singer, at best. Sure, she had a pretty face, nice ass, glorious tits, but..." He spread his hands out as if he'd run out of nice things to say. "Now, her shit will live on forever. Like...like that Selena girl."

  Interesting example.

  Mentally, Cam cracked his knuckles. Jesus, this guy was a fucking cartoon villain. He may as well have grown a long, thin mustache to twirl. The effect would have been complete.

  "Don't get me wrong," Kaine added as if it were an after-thought. "She had other talents too if you know what I mean."

  He winked, and Cam shot out of his chair.

  Kaine eyed him suspiciously. "Everything alright there, Skinner? You look like you've seen a ghost. Expecting Yara to rise from the dead? Maybe visit her dear old mama? Wouldn't that be something?"

  To keep from hauling Kaine over his desk and slamming his fist into his face repeatedly, preferably until he heard bones crunch, Cam shoved his hands into his back pockets.

  He walked over to a wall of platinum and gold records, stopping at Yara's. There must have been six songwriters listed in the credits, not one of them her.

  "I just realized I've never taken a look at these before."

  "Ah," Kaine crowed, standing up to walk over to him. "I'll have plenty more if this year keeps going the way it has."

  "Got the golden touch, have you?"

  "Yara may be gone, rest her sexy soul, but she left me a parting gift."

  Cam glared daggers at the man, but Kaine's face was turned away as he studied one of the wall plaques. Cam wanted to snatch him up by his jowls and shake him until he spat out his crumbling teeth.

  Instead, he nodded. "That's gotta be worth a couple of million, aye?"

  "Oh, aye," Kaine said mockingly. "It'll get me another condo in the Bahamas."

  "Must be nice," Cam replied.

  "It is." Kaine put a hand on his shoulder, and Cam went stiff. "I don't have to cough up ten percent, and I have two or three more girls lined up already. One's nineteen." He turned to Cam. "About the age Yara was when I found her."

  Cam turned to him. "Oh?"

  Kaine met his gaze. His mouth twitched at the corners like he could barely contain his joy.

  "Oh yeah. Ripe for the picking." He winked again. Cam had the distinct feeling he was being baited.

  He decided to play along. "How do you do it? Get them to sign on?"

  Kaine grinned and rocked back on his heels. "Every little girl dreams of being a star, and I can deliver that to them. Now…" he scratched his developing double-chin. "Whether it lives up to the fantasy in their head, I dunno. The music business is a tough one. You gotta make sacrifices, sometimes take one for the team. Play ball, if you get my drift."

  Cam nodded.

  "Some of them don't wanna play ball and, well..." He shrugged. "Sometimes they need to learn the lesson the hard way. Life out in the cold is tough once you've had a taste of the limelight."

  Cam leaned in. "You're not worried about Yara rising from her watery grave to throw a spanner in your windfall? What about her family?"

  "I can handle them. Throw them a few dollars every now and then," Kaine shrugged, using a fingernail to pick candy from his teeth. "As for Yara, if she is out there hiding somewhere, she'll have to eventually surface. And I'll deal with her then."

  Was it possible Kaine knew Yara was alive? Very. She wasn't exactly a trained undercover operative. Kaine could have had a scout on the shoreline that night waiting to see if she'd emerge. They could have followed her to her apartment. Could have followed her to Philly, even. The thought spiked Cam's adrenaline.

  "Well, if you don't need me, I'll be heading back."

  There was a knock at the office door.

  "So soon?" Kaine walked over to answer. "I could use a night out if you're up for it."

  "Nah, thanks."

  Kaine opened the door to a young brunette, about twenty-years-old. Fresh-faced with wide green eyes and dark olive skin a shade lighter than Yara's. Kaine had a type.

  She smiled at the man with so much affection it made Cam want to grab her up and whisk her away to a safe distance. Mars, perhaps.

  "Hiya, papa bear!" Her smile was bright and innocent.

  "Papa bear?"

  Kaine turned to him, almost sheepish as he opened his arms to receive her.

  "What can I say, my Lanie-girl loves me."

  Shit. Yara's friend.

  Lanie giggled as she wrapped her arms around Kaine's neck.

  Cam forced a smile and walked away just before their lips met. The smacking sounds made him want to hurl.

  He called Rory as soon as he left Kaine's office.

  "What's up?"

  "I need you to go to Carl's, grab Yara, and take her to my place."

  "You think Kaine suspects something?" He could hear traffic sounds in the background and knew that Rory was already on the move.

  "He made some noise about her coming back from the dead to visit her family. He's probably been staking them out."

  "But they don't know."

  "That she's alive? No. Otherwise, he'd be trying to bring her in." Cam was grateful for that, at least. "No one knows but her friend Siv."

  "And Siv is trustworthy?"

  Cam appreciated the way Rory’s mind worked.

  "Yara trusts her, and I trust Yara."

  "I think she trusts you too, cousin."

  "Well, I need her to. And I need her to trust you when you get to her. She's not going to want to stay at my place, but I'll feel a whole hell of a lot better if I can keep a closer eye on her until this has all blown over.”

  Yara had place her trust in him, and he’d be damned if he let her down.

  “Good news is, all he's after is the money. I don't think he tried to harm her, he's just taking advantage of the situation. It's probably the only reason I walked out of there instead of being hauled off by the NYPD after breaking his neck."

  "He's clean, then?"

  "I wouldn't go that far. She's better off with us for now."

  "So, uh...Cam," Rory began.

  "Don't say it."

  "You do like her, though."

  He sighed. "Skin isn't a matchmaking service, Rory. She's a client."

  "Is she, though? Technically, she isn't."

  "Whatever, the point is I'm trying to help her, not sleep with her."

  "I know, I know. We all want to help her. But can't deny there's some kinda spark happenin' between the two of you. I saw it when you brought her in."

  Cam laughed. "When did you turn into such a romantic?"

  "We're Celts, cousin. It's in our blood."

 
; "Get Yara, take her to my place, I'll be there in a couple of hours."

  "Don't drag a tail,” Rory cautioned.

  "Oh, I won't. Trust that."

  ***

  There was a tail, but Cam shook him easily. The guy wasn't a pro, just a hired thug. Cam had spotted him outside of Edison on his way down I-95 and lost him around Trenton.

  It paid to know the byways and back roads of central Jersey, but it pissed him off that the diversion had added another hour to his journey home.

  By the time he turned the key and walked through his front door, he'd been ready to face the wrath of one beautiful, petite singer.

  Instead, he found her and Rory seated on the floor of his living room playing FIFA 2016.

  "Hello?"

  "Oh,hey." Rory paused the game. "That took longer than I expected. Traffic?"

  "Something like that." He nodded toward Yara, who sat munching on cheese popcorn. "This one give you any trouble?"

  "Nah, nothing I couldn't handle."

  "I'm right here," she said around a mouthful.

  Seated on the floor in a pair of sweatpants and his old Maximo Park t-shirt. Her hair was still pinned up in a massive bun, but she'd lost the cap. The bandanna was tied loosely around her neck. She looked adorable. Comfortable. At home.

  Cam's train of thought completely derailed.

  "What did Kaine have to say?"

  Camden snapped out of his reverie and headed for the kitchen. He needed a stiff drink.

  "He's an asshole."

  Yara laughed. "I could have told you that. Did you get what you went for?"

  "Yeah," Cam replied as he poured himself two fingers of 18-year-old Glenmorangie. He walked back into the living room and perched on the arm of his couch.

  Yara peered up at him, her face a mask of impatience. "Well?"

  "I got confirmation."

  "Of my story?"

  "Yes. Also, you're safe. I don't think he's out to hurt you or anything. But he's certainly not losing any sleep over your unfortunate demise. We need to keep you out of sight until we get all your ducks in a row. He still needs to go down." He shook his head. "Like I said, asshole."

  She nodded, relief relaxing her features. "Then you're all-in?"