by Xio Axelrod
Yara couldn't argue with that. "So much has happened these last two years. Marcus was furious when I told him I wanted to renegotiate my contract or I was going to walk. And then the media shitstorm happened. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Which shows you just how naive I was."
"Not naive, trusting. You want to believe the best of people."
"Maybe," she conceded. "It's strange to say this, but the night I nearly drowned may have been the best thing to ever happen to me." She met his gaze. "Up 'til then, anyway."
Cam nodded.
"I don't know where to go from here."
"You don't have to go anywhere."
Yara blinked.
He grinned, ducking his eyes. "I mean to say you don't have to make any big decisions right away. It's going to be crazy for you for a while, once the world finds out you're, you know, not dead. And then there's the stuff with Kaine. Once that dust settles, you'll be in control of your career. You'll have time to decide, to get your bearings. Decide where you want to be, and who you want to be."
"I suppose." Yara rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.
God, it felt so...right.
"And you know," he added softly. "I'll help ye for as long as you want me to. I'll stand by you even when you don't."
And that right there was the most frightening thing of all. Because she wanted that. Wanted him. Worse, she thought she just might need him.
She awoke early. Her throat was a desert, and she needed water, so Yara padded quietly into Cam's kitchen. She helped herself to a glass from a cabinet and filled it with ice cold water from the dispenser on his fridge.
The condo was immaculate.
Stainless steel appliances gleamed in the dim light as she walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.
It was spacious, with high ceiling and muted, neutral colors.
Spying a door in the corner, she walked that way. It was ajar, so she pushed it open with her foot and was startled to find a large office.
Yara flicked on the light and gasped.
It was her. Everywhere she looked, she saw herself.
Photos were pinned to one wall, some from her career but others from before she left Philly. High school, college, shots she'd never seen.
Next to the photos were print-outs, stuff about her disappearance. Camden had circled names and dates, clearly trying to solve the mystery.
On the opposite wall stood a gun case, about six feet high. It was filled with what could only be described as an arsenal. Matt black handguns, gleaming steel revolvers, and polished wood-handled rifles. Maybe sixteen in all, they lay dormant behind the locked door. The glass pane was thick. Likely bulletproof.
Between the weaponry and the wall filled with her, she could only stare as the chill returned to her bones.
He'd said he'd been obsessed, said he'd been looking into it, but this...seeing it, she didn't know what to think.
Yara felt him walk up behind her before he even made a sound.
"I thought you were exaggerating."
"I tried to tell you."
Yara turned to him. His eyes were wide, wary, full of fear. Cam was shirtless, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. Christ, he was beautiful. But that edge of danger, the one she'd sensed the night they met, the one she'd seen evidence of the night the reporter followed them, it was there beneath the surface. It was there in the case against the wall.
Her first instinct was to run.
But her second was to stay.
In the end, she took a small step back.
Cam's nostrils flared, and his gaze dropped to the ground. He stepped to the side and walked around her, giving her a wide berth as he made his way to his desk.
Cam sat in the office chair there and flicked on his desk lamp.
"I didn't want Skin to take on Kaine as a client."
"I heard Pierce say something to that effect." Yara moved to the chair opposite, curling her legs under her when she sat. The leather was cold.
Cam reached behind him and pulled out a hoodie, handing it to her over the desk.
Yara slipped it on over the tee she was wearing. It was his, so it fell almost to her knees, but it wasn't much defense against her shivering.
"Thanks," she said after zipping it up. She tried to ignore the Wall of Yara to her right. It was too weird to contemplate, though she knew he had been conducting an investigation into her disappearance. She just hadn't known how far down the rabbit hole he'd traveled.
Cam cleared his throat. "I understand if that creeps you out."
He nodded toward the wall.
"I guess I underestimated how invested you were."
He sighed. "I felt responsible. I feel responsible for what happened to you. For our part in it. I guess I...when you disappeared, I..."
"I saw you once," she said, remembering. "I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I did see you. Once. You were coming out of Kaine's offices in South Beach. I'm pretty sure it was you, though it could have been Pierce."
She chanced a look at his eyes, which were trained on her. He looked skittish, like a race horse ready to bolt out of the gate before the start.
"Pink jacket or white?"
"Hmm?"
Cam pushed a pen around the desktop. "Pink jacket or white?"
"Oh, white."
"That was me."
Yara nodded. "You looked uncomfortable."
His eyes narrowed over the smallest of grins. "Did I?"
"I remember thinking 'wow, that guy does not want to be here.' Or maybe it was the jacket. It didn't suit you."
"Both." He twined his fingers behind his head and leaned back. It offered an unobstructed view of his well-defined pecs and Yara was momentarily distracted.
"I didn't want to be anywhere near Marcus Kaine, and I hate suit jackets. Especially white ones."
Yara offered him a grin before her gaze traveled back to the wall.
She got up and walked over to it.
Memories assaulted her. Singing in her high school choir, performing at the senior talent show, open mic night on her college campus. There were photos of her with Siv and their friends at a rally. Another of her with her parents which hit her like a punch to the chest.
She let out a shuddering breath.
"I know you miss them. All of them." Cam's voice was quiet over her shoulder. She hadn't heard him move that time.
"I do, but this...all of this...it's a hologram. You get that, right?"
Cam nodded. "I do. I know."
Yara shook her head.
"How do I know that? You said you were obsessed, but who says that? Who does this?" She gestured at the collection. "I get that you felt guilty, that you wanted to...to solve the case or make things right, or whatever, but...I'm more than that. More than this."
"I know that, Yara." Cam reached for her, but she stepped back before he could touch her.
"Don't, just...give me time to wrap my head around it all." Yara didn't dare look him in the eye. She couldn't bear to see the pain she knew she'd find there.
He cared for her, she knew he did. She just didn't know if it was a by-product of his guilt or something more. And there was no sure-fire way of figuring that out.
Chances were, whatever was happening was between them would fizzle out when her case was over. And if so, Yara couldn't risk getting in any deeper with Camden Skinner. She'd lost enough. She didn't think she could stand to have him only to lose him too.
"Maybe I should take the couch for the rest of the night." Such resignation in his voice.
Yara nodded. "Yeah. I think that's for the best."
Seventeen
Cam watched Yara retreat to his bedroom, waiting until she clicked the door shut before he looked away.
Fucking fuck. He should have taken all of that shit down. Or, better yet, shown her right away what he'd been up to since she'd disappeared. He could only imagine what was running through her mind after seeing t
hat. She probably thought he was psychotic. He couldn't blame her.
It was four in the morning, but he had no hope of getting back to sleep now, so he fired up his laptop and got to work.
They'd tried to track down five of Kaine's former starlets. Only three of them were listed, and only one of the three had a recent email address and phone.
Ariel Wyatt.
Camden remembered her. Remembered the hyper-sexualized video she'd done as a seventeen-year-old which had caused a firestorm of controversy for a few weeks. He'd wondered what had happened to her and itched to learn her story.
She was in California. It was one a.m. there. Certainly too late to call, but he could shoot her an email.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Kaine
Ms. Wyatt,
I would like to speak to you about your time under contract with Marcus Kaine. We're looking into a matter on behalf of another of his artists and would love any insight or corroborations you could give in regards to his business practices.
You can reach my anytime, day or night, at 267.555.0999
Best,
Camden Sinner
Cam stared at his signature, a bitter laugh passing his lips.
"Sinner. That's about right."
He corrected the typo, Sinner to Skinner, and hit 'send.'
Not a minute had passed before he received a reply.
Mr. Skinner, is it alright to call now?
Cam responded with a yes, and his phone rang seconds later.
"Hello?"
"Is this Camden Skinner?"
"Yes, Ms. Wyatt?"
"Ariel." She exhaled, sounding breathless. "Call me Ariel. Are you going after Marcus?"
Cam rolled his answer around in his mouth for a moment. "Going after? In what way?"
"He's a sick man, Mr. Skinner."
"Camden."
"Camden. Are you working with him?"
"No." He answered quickly. "No, Ariel, we want to take him down."
"Oh, thank God." The relief in her voice was evident. "What can I do?"
"I need to know everything about your dealings with him. Would you be willing to share that information?"
"Yes," she replied quickly. "Yes, I would. I have paperwork, receipts, notes. You name it."
Cam exhaled, feeling one step closer to victory. One step closer to freeing Yara from her nightmare.
"Can you start by telling me how he recruited you?"
"I'll tell you everything you need to know," she promised, her voice filled with conviction.
"Mind if I record this conversation?" Cam's finger hovered over the recorder on his phone.
"Do whatever you need to do," Ariel said. "I just want him to go down in flames."
Cam watched Pierce's face as he listened to the recording, noting the disgust, surprise, anger, and indignation that passed across his features in rapid succession.
"Jesus feckin' Christ."
Cam nodded. "Indeed."
Rory cursed under his breath. "Is she legit, this Ariel Wyatt?"
"We can vet her, check out her docs when they arrive. She Fedexed them, so they should be here this evening."
"I can't wrap my head around the bit about the audition," Pierce said. "I mean, I know there's such a thing as a casting couch, but what he asked her to do. And with witnesses. That she did it. Willingly."
"She was young, impressionable. And Kaine can be charming. He was probably lethal ten, twenty years ago."
"Do you think Yara...?" Rory let the question hang, and Cam was damned if he'd let it float out there.
"No. God, no. I don't think she ever...no." He hoped. He prayed, and he wasn't the praying type.
"Right, so..." Pierce slapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. "We now have, what we hope is, a credible witness to back Yara up. It's good. I wish one of the others would be so forthcoming."
"It's enough to get him on the hook," Rory said, typing away on his laptop. "As soon as the FedEx arrives, I'll process the materials. Weed out what we can't use."
"Good, good." Cam checked his phone. No word from Yara.
When he'd left in the morning, she'd been still behind his closed bedroom door.
It was probably for the best that she'd found his war room. Now she knows who he really was. It would save them both the heartache when this case was over.
Well, it would save her. He was already in too deep.
"How is she?" Rory's question brought him back to the present.
"Anxious. She just wants to get back to her family and friends, back to what she loves."
"Speaking of that," Pierce chimed in. "How are things between the two of you?"
Cam bristled. "There is nothing between the two of us, Per. Leave it."
Pierce frowned. "But I thought..."
"Leave it!" Cam took a deep breath, inhaling through his mouth and exhaling through his nose. "Sorry. Look, I know you guys think it's some sort of sign that she came to me, to us. It's not. We fucked her over, she came to us to unfuck things. End of story."
"You're into her, though," Rory said, his voice full of sympathy. "You're never into anyone. But her, you like. More than like."
"Rory."
"He's not wrong, brother." Pierce cut him off. "We tease because we're family, but...don't throw in the towel just yet. You were right about Kaine, you were right about Yara, what makes you think you're wrong about this?"
Cam frowned. "About what?"
Pierce smiled. "About the two of you having something."
"You're one to talk. Look, we don't have anything. How could we?" He glared hard at the both of them, challenging them to contradict him. "The best thing for everyone involved would be for us to take Kaine to task, get Yara what she deserves, and send her on her merry way. Alright?"
"But..."
"Alright?"
Rory shut his mouth and nodded once before shaking his head.
Cam didn't need his cousin or his brother playing matchmaker like a couple of Grans. He didn't know when he'd become their pet project.
"What's the ETA on the kit?" Cam turned to Pierce, but he wasn't looking at him. He stared past him at the open doorway.
Fuck.
Cam shut his eyes and huffed out a breath before turning.
Yara's gaze burned right through him. It was equal parts disappointment, pain, and resigned determination not to show the first two.
Cam wanted to sweep her up and into some dark, quiet corner. Which is why he turned away.
"Good. You're here. Sit down. We have a lot to go over."
Eighteen
"So, I'm bait?"
"I don't like it."
"We already know you don't like it, Cam, but this is the plan." Pierce sagged against the back of his chair.
They'd been at this for hours.
"Yara's going to the Kaine's office. She'll meet him when he's alone. Tell him that she's ready to come back to the fold."
"I don't fucking like it."
Rory groaned, slapping a stack of papers on the desk.
Pierce ran his hands through his hair with a fierce agitation.
Everyone in the room was fed up. Camden in asshole mode was not something anyone was in the mood for, especially Yara.
What reason did he have to talk to her like she was some stranger off the street? And he was practically barking instructions to his brother and his cousin.
But she sat and listened.
"How do we know he'll even buy it?" Cam paced in one corner of the room. The pen in his hand didn't stand a chance as he violently tapped it against his chest. Thwap, thwap, thwap.
"His ego is bigger than Mount Rushmore, he'll buy it," Pierce stated.
Of that, Yara had no doubt. But she was worried about Cam. If he couldn't keep a hold on his temper, he might blow the whole thing before they could get what they needed.
His gaze kept darting toward her then away. Underneath the gruff attitude, sh
e knew he was anxious. For her.
A big part of her wanted to take his hand, reassure him, but they didn't need the added distraction. She wasn't even sure where they stood.
"I think it'll work," she said to fill the silence.
Cam nodded, though he looked less than convinced.
"When do you want to send me in?"
"Tonight. We know he'll be at the office late. He has been every night this week, and always alone."
"Should I take my gun?" Yara teased, trying to get Cam to lighten up.
"No." Cam shot her a look.
"Wait, you have a gun?" Rory's eyebrows shot up.
"Had," Cam interrupted. "She had a gun, now she doesn't."
"How anti-feminist of you, brother." Pierce tsked, his lips quirking up into a grin. "Women are entitled to firearms just as much as we men."
Cam rolled his eyes. "I've got no problem with a woman handling a gun, so long as she knows how. That goes for anyone. If you can't be arsed to get proper training, you shouldn't handle a weapon.”
"I know how to handle my weapon,” Yara bit out.
"Not from what you showed me," Cam challenged.
Pierce stepped toward them, his hands out. "I'm sure Camden here can give you some proper training, lass."
"Shut it," Cam snapped. "Can you fucking focus? We're sending her back into the lion's den, at least pretend ye have a care."
Pierce scowled at his brother. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? You think I don't care what happens to our Yara?"
"Our Yara?" She raised an eyebrow at Pierce. "Are you warming up to me?"
Pierce turned to Cam, but his words were directed at her.
"You're practically family."
"Back on topic. You don't need a gun, lass, you won't be in any physical danger."
Cam actively avoided them both as he stood.
Yara tried to ignore the way his jeans clung to the muscles of his thighs, and the memory of how they'd felt under her fingertips.
"Let's get this over with."
"The sooner, the better," Rory agreed. "Yara, we'll wire you up on the way."
Pierce stood. "The Escalade?"
