And get some answers.
Her stomach growled, loudly enough that Alex noticed.
“Hungry?” She swore his eyes twinkled when he said this.
It was useless to deny it, not when there was such strong evidence to the contrary. “Starving.”
“Me, too.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. You haven’t eaten anything. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said simply. “You’ve been dealing with other things. Like making sure I don’t run away. And figuring out how best to interrogate me…”
She didn’t bother denying any of his statements. “I also took care of you,” she pointed out.
“Yes, you absolutely did.” His immediate agreement took her a little by surprise.
“But you’re hungry?” she asked, standing up.
“And then some.”
Cam smiled. That had to be a good sign, a sign that he was on the road to recovery.
“Wait right here,” she told him.
He arched an eyebrow. “Where would I go?”
She gave him a withering look. “Out the window. Again.”
His answering grin revealed a stealth dimple in his right cheek. It only appeared with his widest of smiles.
Her heart threatened to explode at the sight of it.
She lurched toward the door. She needed to regroup. Another smile like that could seriously undo her.
“I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.
Five minutes later, she returned with her emotions under control—sort of—and two steaming bowls of soup.
Alex sniffed the air. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Tortilla soup,” she said as she handed him the bowl. She’d only partially filled it, not knowing how hungry he was and not wanting him to have to manage an overly full bowl.
He inhaled the steam rising from the bowl. “I can’t remember the last time I had this,” he said.
Cam sobered.
She could.
It had been the last meal they’d eaten together. He’d come over late, just as she was finishing her homework. She’d wanted a snack before bed but there was nothing to eat. Nothing except a margarine tub filled with leftovers of her grandma’s tortilla soup. She’d heated it in a pan on the stove and then plopped it on the rickety linoleum table, using a threadbare kitchen towel as a hot pad. She’d fished two spoons from the dish drainer and they’d eaten directly from the pot, sucking down spoonfuls and scraping the sides clean.
He ate a bite and she watched as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Is this your grandma’s recipe?”
Cam nodded.
His grin swallowed his entire face, revealing that dimple again. “She’s still cooking, huh?”
Cam looked down at her hands. “I make it now. She gave me the recipe.”
“Is…?” Alex’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is your grandma still alive?”
Cam looked up at him. Concern filled his features. “She’s still kicking around,” she assured him. “But she’s in a senior home now.”
“Is she sick?”
“She’s just old.” Cam stirred her soup with her spoon, watching as the black beans and tomatoes swirled in the thick broth. “She moved out of the neighborhood years ago, to an apartment in Fridley.”
Alex held the bowl in his hands and listened.
“But that got to be too much for her. Mama talked about taking care of her, but you know how that goes.” She rolled her eyes. “She can barely take care of herself.”
“How is she doing?” he asked gently. “Your mom?”
Cam shrugged. “Sober right now. Has a job. Who knows how long it’ll last this time around?”
Marta, her mother, had been like that Cam’s entire life, jumping from job to job, spending weeks, sometimes months, at a time unemployed. With no dad to speak of—even Miguel barely remembered the man who had donated his sperm to create them—the bulk of the childrearing had gone to Cam’s mother. And when she was derelict in her duties, Grandma had stepped in, doing what she could despite the fact that she worked full-time to support herself.
“Is she close by? Your grandma?” Alex asked. “Or does she live closer to the cities now?”
Cam smiled. “She’s close. Miguel and I wanted to make sure at least one of us could check in on her regularly. Considering where he’s decided to live, it made the most sense to move her here.”
“I’m glad she’s okay,” he said quietly. “And I’m glad you’ve taken over the tradition of making her soup.”
Silence filled the room. Cam stared back down at her bowl. The steam had dissipated, and she wondered if it was even hot anymore. The bowl was certainly still warm in her hands, but the contents? Who knew? She felt as though she’d been talking for hours.
Irritation welled up inside of her. She’d spent the last several minutes chatting with Alex as if he were simply an old friend and they were catching up on each other’s lives.
Except there were two things wrong with this scenario.
He wasn’t an old friend.
He was essentially a stranger, a stranger who had broken into her home.
And they weren’t catching up on each other’s lives. She’d filled him in on her grandma, even fed him tidbits about her mom’s continued battles, and he’d told her…nothing.
Inwardly, she fumed. She wasn’t angry with him, per se. Well, maybe she was a little bit. Mostly, she was furious with herself. For falling into the same trap he’d entangled her in years ago. He had always been so easy to talk to, so willing to listen. He’d always sucked her in with his simple gestures: his gentle voice, the looks he gave her. He exuded an air of authenticity, projecting the idea that he really cared: about her, about her family, about them.
And then he’d gone and shot it all to hell.
She set her soup down.
“You’re not hungry anymore?”
She shook her head.
“Something is wrong.” Alex said this as a statement, not a question.
Cam fixed him with a cool stare. She wasn’t about to admit the thoughts running through her mind. He didn’t deserve that level of intimacy. He didn’t deserve anything from her.
Something changed in his expression. “I can’t tell you everything.” Alex’s voice was soft. It was the first time he’d volunteered information. “Please believe me. If I could, I would. But there are some things no one can know. Not even you.”
Her chuckle was harsh, grating to her own ears. “Oh, really?” She shook her head in disgust. She had no idea what he was referring to, but she could make a pretty good guess. If his past was any indication, she imagined he was high up the chain of command with whatever gang he was running with now.
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he said. “Or put you in danger. Talking to you about certain…things has the potential to do both. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
Cam bit her lip so hard it hurt. She hated that his words still affected her. Even now, with anger coursing through her veins, her heart still thrilled at the words he’d just spoken.
She brushed back a strand of hair, pushing it off her face. “And the last thing I want to do is haul you in,” she said evenly. “But I’m a cop, and a damn good one. I like investigating, and I like solving cases. And I love bringing the bad guys to justice.”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “I’m not who I used to be, Cam.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know,” she retorted. “Since you won’t tell me jack shit.”
Her phone buzzed, and she yanked it from her sweatshirt pocket. Nate’s number flashed across the screen.
“Nate.” Her voice was flat.
“You really need to work on how you answer phone calls,” he said dryly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. She stole a quick glance at Alex, who was staring out the window, his half-eaten bowl of soup apparently abandoned. “What�
��s up?”
“Blaine and Ollie had a traffic stop a couple hours ago. Car reeked of weed so they did a search. Found a shit ton of heroin. Might relate to the Douglas case.”
Cam pulled open the nightstand drawer, looking for a pen and a pad of paper. She found neither. She settled for making mental notes instead.
“I’m taking tomorrow off,” Nate said. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you decide to go in. Otherwise we can touch base on Monday. The guys posted bond but they’ll be due back in court. I’ll check the paperwork and touch base with the DA’s office.”
“Sounds good,” she said. A part of her itched to get into the office and pore over the Douglas case file, but she already knew that was a pipe dream. She wasn’t going anywhere while Alex was in her house.
“Oh, one more thing,” Nate added. She could hear papers shuffling. “A BOLO came through.”
A BOLO. Be on the look out. They didn’t get a ton of those coming through the station.
“Non-emergency, but they’re asking us to keep our eyes open.” He broke off. “Shit. Sally’s calling.”
Cam fought back a smile. Sally was Nate’s fiancée, a nurse at the hospital, and one of the sweetest, most generous people Cam had ever met. She gave Nate a lot of latitude when it came to his job and the amount of hours he worked, but he’d realized that when she called or demanded attention, he’d better drop everything and give it to her.
“I gotta go,” he said quickly. “I’ll get you the details later. But the name of the guy is Alex Castillo.”
He ended the call.
And Cam almost dropped the phone.
Her gaze flew to the man sitting in the bed.
The man who was watching her with a curious expression on his face.
The man who was wanted by the police.
10
Saturday, September 8th
5:30 pm
Alex watched as the color drained from Cam’s face.
“What is it?” he asked.
She stared at him, her eyes hard, her mouth pinched tight. “What exactly are you mixed up in?”
He looked away.
“Dammit, Alex.” Her brown eyes flashed with anger. “You wanna know who that was? A detective.”
He stared at her, waiting, his pulse quickening a little.
“He gave me a name.” Her voice was like ice. “A name of someone we’re supposed to be looking for.”
Dread settled over him.
“Your name,” she said flatly.
Shit.
Alex shifted on the bed, pulling away from the pillows he’d been propped up on. He set his bowl of soup on the nightstand and made an effort to swing his legs to the side of the bed.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cam snapped.
His mind was swimming with thoughts, none of them good. “I have to go.”
“Bullshit.” She reached out and, with firm hands, shoved his shoulders so he was back against the pillows. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He knew his eyes were desperate. “I have to,” he said urgently. “I can’t stay here. It’s not safe. Not safe for you.”
She was his main concern.
His only concern, really.
Something flickered in her eyes, but her mouth stayed in a tight, firm line. She crossed her arms and glared at him, waiting for him to say something.
He hated seeing her angry, feeling it directed at him. His chest ached, and not just because his bruised ribs made it hurt to take in air. He hated causing her pain.
But he was doing just that.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Alex regretted his decision to come to Aspen Falls. He should have come up with a different plan.
He could have sought refuge someplace else, someplace no one would know him. Crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. Why had he come to Aspen Falls? And why had he walked back into Camila’s life?
He chewed the inside of his cheek. He knew why.
He wanted to see her again.
No, scratch that.
He’d needed to see her one last time.
He’d made a monumental mess of things all those years ago. Ending things with Cam, especially the way he had, was the single biggest regret of his life.
With certain death seemingly around the corner, he’d wanted to make amends. Failing that—because honestly, he didn’t expect her to forgive him—he at least had wanted to see her one last time.
The problem was, he hadn’t planned out much further than that.
He hadn’t contemplated what would happen next in his imagined scenario.
All he’d focused on was seeing her again.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare off into space all night?”
He looked at Cam.
The glare was still there. If anything, it had intensified since the last time he’d looked at her.
“You heard me,” she said. There was a growl to her voice. “I’m still waiting for answers.”
He blew out a slow, tortured breath. Her expression shifted for the briefest of seconds, concern edging out her anger. But then the mask was back.
“I had to see you,” he finally said.
Her eyebrows arched a fraction of an inch. “What?”
“You asked me what the hell I was doing,” he reminded her. “I’m telling you. I had to see you again.”
This didn’t appear to be the answer she was expecting.
Good.
It was better to catch her off guard a little.
“I heard you were in Aspen Falls,” he said.
“How?”
“Through the grapevine.”
“What grapevine?”
“Look, I kept tabs on you.”
Her eyebrows lifted higher. “Kept tabs on me?”
“I kept tabs on a lot of people,” he said quickly, knowing full well this was stretching the truth. “Your brother. I knew he went to med school. He’s working with the Ojibwe population up in Red Lake, right?”
She gave a slight nod.
“And Jen. She moved to DC. I think she’s a lobbyist?”
Another small nod. “For education.”
He smiled tentatively. “See?”
“I don’t care what you’re doing here,” she said flatly. “I want to know why my buddy at the station just told me your name is floating around the state.”
Alex frowned. “What exactly did he say?”
Cam shook her head. “Oh, no. You don’t get to ask the questions here.”
“How can I defend myself if you don’t tell me what you know?”
“Defend yourself?” she repeated. “So you did do something wrong.” Disgust coated her voice. “And you told me you were jumped.”
Something in Alex flared. “The only thing I’m guilty of is coming here and putting you in danger.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly why a call went out to every station in the state, broadcasting your name.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Newsflash, jackass,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t.” Alex shot her a look. “Not with this.”
She unfolded her arms and set her hands on her hips. Her cheeks flushed red with anger and her eyes glittered like black diamonds. “Is that so? You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
He actually did have a pretty good idea.
But she wasn’t done.
“I’ve put away drug dealers. Thieves. Rapists. I’ve been held at knifepoint.” She yanked at the collar of her sweatshirt, revealing a creamy brown shoulder. She jabbed at a scar. “I’ve been shot. So don’t tell me I can’t fucking take care of myself.”
Alex was torn between being mesmerized by the smooth expanse of skin she’d just revealed to being livid that someone had aimed a gun at her. And fired.
He swallowed. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“I don’t care how you meant it. Don’t you dare
tell me what I can or can’t handle. You got it?”
She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down, her eyes practically on fire. She radiated anger. No, pure fury.
Alex was convinced he’d never seen her look more beautiful. She was fierce, fiery, determined…
And he’d walked away from her.
His fingers itched to reach out to her, to wrap his hands around her wrists and pull her to him. To clutch her tightly to his chest, to bury his face in her hair and never let her go.
Wishes didn’t come true—there was no genie in a bottle, waiting to be unleashed so he could right all of his wrongs—but if they could, he knew exactly what he’d wish for.
To go back and change the words he’d said to her that night all those years ago.
To make better choices.
Choices that would have included having her in his life.
She huffed out a breath. Alex was a little surprised she actually wasn’t spitting fire at this point.
“Fine,” she said. “We can do this the hard way. I’ll go ahead and call Nate back, tell him I have a lead on the name he just dropped. We can haul you into the station and he can be the one asking the questions.”
He waited a fraction of a second to see if she was serious.
She was.
Her hand was already reaching for the phone she’d discarded moments ago.
“Wait.”
She looked at him warily.
“I…” He sucked in a breath, then exhaled. He needed to give her something, a small piece of information that would buy him a little time. “I’m in a gang.”
Her eyes narrowed but he saw the emotion lurking behind those brown orbs. Satisfaction. Because he knew that was exactly what she’d thought all along.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. An old dog can’t learn new tricks.
He was sure there were a dozen other bullshit idioms she was using to describe him in her head right now.
It irked him, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He needed her to believe that.
Even if it was all a lie.
“I’m in a gang,” he repeated, his voice a little stronger this time. “And a rival gang wants me dead.”
11
Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel) Page 6
