Her door opened. No sound, no footsteps, which only meant Brody, even without the smell of Kevlar and gun oil. She closed her eyes against it, wanting, please, just a little longer.
Cam sat back. The hospital air was cool and sterile against her skin.
“Healed up?” Brody said, looking her over.
“Yeah. You look like shit, too.” There were dark circles under his eyes, and the lines on his face seemed to stand out.
“I was up all night, worrying my little heart out over you. Here.” Brody tossed her a pair of sunglasses. “Meg’s grabbing you some stuff from the gift shop. We got to get you out of here. Proom’s coming.”
Ch. 18
“I’m thinking we should prep your house,” Meg said on the way back. Brody glanced at her. “Extra locks on the doors, bolt the furniture to the floor, maybe even bars on the windows, if you don’t think that’s overkill.”
“No,” Brody said.
Meg shrugged. “Fair enough. We’ll need to stop by the house for my tools.”
“Is that—that’s not necessary,” Ashley said. “I’m getting better.”
“It’s not,” Brody said.
“I thought, for Proom,” Meg said, raising an eyebrow at Brody. She turned around in her seat to face Ashley. “You are doing well, here, with us, and from one or two hints you and Smiley here dropped on occasion, I got the impression that if Mr. Proom—”
“Doctor.” Ashley and Brody spoke at the same time, Brody managing to make the title sound like a curse.
“—thinks you’re doing well, you might have to leave us.”
“Which is not going to happen,” Cam said.
“‘Course it isn’t,” Meg agreed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Brody cut in savagely. “We do not need to do anything because that is our home, and that man is not setting foot inside it.”
“No, go on, tell us how you really feel,” Meg murmured.
“How I really feel cannot be expressed in words. I might be able to manage it with the toolbox under the sink.”
“I don’t think Nate’d like that.”
“As if I’d leave anything for him to find.”
Cam began, “Liz was…”
“Normal.” Brody nodded.
“We’re sure?” Cam asked. “She is really good at sports.”
“Just because a girl can knock the cover off a ball doesn’t mean she’s a superhero,” Meg said. “I’d like to think I can swing a sledgehammer pretty good without that making me the Lady Hulk.”
“She-Hulk,” Ashley corrected quietly. Then, “Maybe he took her to use against Danny.” Her hands tightened in her lap. “That’s what Proom does. He uses people.”
But Brody shook his head. “He wanted someone to hold against Danny, he’d have gone for Susan. She’s back and forth in the hospital parking lot each day, which does not have the proper coverage it should, and, no offense to Liz, but she’s his mom. Kid in Danny’s position—no dad, younger sibling to take care of—you always go for the mom. Cripple the family, put Danny in the position of having to take care of Whitney, think of what’s best for her, not just himself—” Brody caught them staring and gave a bitter smile. “It’s what I would do.”
“We can only hope Proom isn’t as cold-blooded as you,” Meg said.
“He is,” Brody said.
Ashley spoke up. “Meg and Cam should go. They shouldn’t spend time with us anymore. Not if Proom is coming.”
“Odds are Proom knows about Cam already. You two have been spending too much time together for him not to have done his homework.”
Meg glanced at Cam through the rearview mirror. “Do you want me to get him out of town?”
Cam shook his head. “I’m not going to run from him.”
“It probably wouldn’t do you good anyway,” Brody said. “Actually, I was going to suggest you and Cam come stay with us for a couple days. I’d feel better if I knew where the two of you were,” he told her in a low voice.
“You just want me to cook for you,” Meg said, and Brody grinned, though it was brief.
“Well, there’s that, too.”
“All right, then,” Meg said, and she nodded in the direction of her house. “Run us by home, and we’ll grab some things.”
It was late afternoon by the time they settled Meg and Cam at Brody’s, and Meg helped Ashley peel off the bandages that the hospital made her wear, more there for show and because the doctors were paranoid—and, okay, a little confused—than because she needed them. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, at the new additions to her collection of scars—fresh and pink and puckered, not quite hidden by the gift-shop tank top Meg had picked up for her at the hospital. It would be easier to sit here and wait for Proom and tell him that she wanted to go back. And she was so tired.
Instead she went to find Brody. “I thought I’d head over to Danny’s.” Brody glanced up at her. “I need to talk to him.”
“You just got back from having four bullets dug out of you. You should rest,” he said.
“I don’t need to rest. I need to talk to Danny.”
Brody pushed himself out from under the sink and wiped his hands on a rag. “Want me to come with?”
Ashley shook her head. “Thanks. But—no.”
“All right. But I want you to ask Danny to stop by tomorrow or the day after. I want to give him some tips, stuff to do in case something happens.”
Cam followed her out the front door. “I’d like to come, too.”
“I don’t need a dogsitter,” Ashley said, but she was too exhausted to make it hurt. Besides, she did want Cam with her.
“Good, because my rates are astronomical,” he replied. “Danny’s my friend,” he added. “I’d like to go.”
Ashley nodded.
Danny was not at his home, but Whitney, trying hard not to stare at Ashley’s new scars, told them to check out Tyler’s, he was probably there.
“Everyone’s going to be staring at my chest now,” Ashley said as they headed to Tyler’s. The sidewalk was hot under her bare feet.
“It’s not every day you see someone strolling around with four new bullet holes,” Cam remarked carefully. He glanced at her. “Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” Ashley said.
He didn’t look at her now. “I had hoped, with everything they did to you—the speed, the healing. I hoped they might have given you something to take away the pain.”
“No,” Ashley said. “It always hurts.”
Cam paused at a red light even though there was no traffic. He always did. And looked both ways when the light went green. It made Ashley want to smile.
“I wish it didn’t,” he said. “I wish—” Cam let out a hard breath. “I just wish I could do something.”
“You are,” Ashley said. “You’re going with me to Danny’s.”
Danny and Tyler were sitting on the doorstep. They looked up as she and Cam approached, and Ashley managed not to dig her heels in, or to turn and run. She wanted to, but she didn’t.
This wasn’t a good idea. She needed to see Danny, and Tyler, to face them and apologize, but now that she was walking towards them she wished she’d waited. To shower and change, have at least some time to prepare herself. To deal with the fact that she was going to feel like absolute shit.
She was wrong. She didn’t feel like shit. She felt worse. Ashley realized that Cam’s hand was in hers, and she held on.
“Ashley.” Danny’s eyes were raw and red, but his face was calm. Mostly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He eyed the scars. “I heard it got—bad.”
“I’m fine. I’m…sorry,” she added. She sounded pathetic. I’m sorry about letting your girlfriend get snatched.
“It’s not your fault,” Tyler said sharply, surprising them. “It’s their fault. They took her. You went after her. Tried to stop them.”
“I didn’t,” Ashley said.
“You still tried. A lot, from what we hear
.” He nodded at her. “Thanks.”
“Brody wanted us to tell you to stop by the house. Soon,” she told Danny. “He wants to give you some tips on how to defend yourself. In case something happens.”
“What does he think is going to happen?” Tyler demanded.
“He thinks the people who took Liz, and Ian, that they might be trying to get people like Danny. And Cam.”
“Why? What do they want her for?” Tyler demanded.
The silence that crashed in was huge and aching.
“They’re not going to hurt her.” Danny looked up, his face gone grey in the baking sun. “Ashley? Tell me. They’re not going to hurt her. Are they?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“Yes,” Ashley said.
“A lot?”
Ashley stared down at her arm, at the line of scars running along her skin.
“Oh god.” Danny put his head in his hands, and her stomach twisted into knots. She rushed in, wanting to make it better, but awkwardly, because she didn’t know how. “They’ll try not to. They’re not after her pain; when they can help it, they will. And they can help it a lot, at first. It’s easier. You take to the drugs better.”
“And later on?” Tyler demanded.
Lie. Lie. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. “It will hurt a lot.”
Tyler glared at her, blinking rapidly. He hunched over, scrubbing at his eyes, muttering over and over, “Fuck fuck fuckfuck…” But it didn’t work. They saw the tears anyway.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he exploded. “If they wanted,” Tyler waved a hand at Danny, “superheroes, why grab Liz? She’s nobody.”
Danny gaped at Tyler.
“You know what I meant,” Tyler said, his voice raw. “She not a superhero. She’s just Liz.”
“‘Just?’” Danny choked.
“You know what I meant.”
Ashley shrugged. “We’ll ask Proom. When he gets here. He’s coming to check on me,” she said at Danny and Tyler’s startled glances.
Tyler smiled. “Good.”
“We don’t know he took her,” Danny said. “Not for certain.”
Tyler threw up his hands. “Oh come the fuck on, Daniel.”
“We don’t have any proof.”
“Brody can get you proof. Give him ten minutes in a room with that asshole.”
“It won’t stand up in court,” Cam said.
“It’ll make me feel better,” Tyler said.
“Brody will handle him,” Ashley said. “Just pass the word. And stop by soon, okay? Tomorrow. Tell the others, too. Brody wants to see everyone he can.”
They walked back to Brody’s across the sand.
“You look tired.”
Cam didn’t answer for a long moment. So long she thought he wasn’t going to. “I’ve been trying to see more. Farther. I don’t get everything,” he explained. “I don’t think I even get most of it. I don’t know if my brain can’t process it or what. The further out I try to go, the more that could happen, and it gets…blurry.” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to exercise. I thought, like a muscle, maybe—” He tugged a hand through his hair. His face was very pale.
“When I was a kid, I didn’t know what this was at first. I thought…” He shook his head. “When I did, I had to practice. To even get this far. I just need to practice more.”
“You need a break,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Eat. Sleep.”
He smiled. “Can’t. People missing.” He squeezed his eyes shut, but didn’t let go of her hand.
“Cam—” Ashley began, but she caught herself before she was a complete idiot and blurted out everything she was thinking. How he was a good person, the best person she’d ever met—good and kind and wanting to help people, really wanting to help them, and doing it. How it made her feel ashamed because there was so much she could do and she hadn’t been doing any of it. She’d just been moping, and afraid, and done nothing. She could do anything, and she’d done nothing. How she would never, ever be as good as him. But he made her want to try.
She was very glad she didn’t say any of that.
Instead, she said. “I know—I know what Brody said, but I think it would be better if you stayed away. From me. For me.”
“Why?” Cam asked.
“Because of Danny. And Liz. I’ve been thinking,” she told him. “If something happened to you. I know we—we’re not like that, but if anything happened to you—I would do anything,” Ashley said simply. “I would hate it, but if it kept you safe, I would do anything he asked. And that frightens me.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Because it’d be wrong. You know it would be. You don’t need me to tell you that. You don’t need me,” he said.
Ashley shook her head, wishing she had some defense against this. Wishing it was anger or humor or anything else. She wasn’t sure she could deal with faith. She wanted to say, I do or That’s not true, but the words caught in her throat, and she was glad. She didn’t want them to be true. Cam believed in her. She wanted that more.
So she said, “Brody will be waiting for us.”
Cam nodded and went with her as she headed home.
Ch. 19
Cam met Proom the next day.
He was out for coffee with Dr. MacNamara at the time. She was still technically on sabbatical, but Cam had surprised himself by calling and asking if they could talk. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d wanted to talk to her, instead of Ashley or Meg or anyone else. But he was prepared to admit that his aunt had been right, and Dr. MacNamara did seem to know what she was doing.
They met at Doctor Brew, a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop run by a rabid Whovian, just down the street from Level Up. From their window-side table, they could see the sun glint off the taped windows, and Dr. MacNamara would glance at it from time to time.
“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me,” Cam told her.
Dr. MacNamara smiled a little sadly. “I appreciate you calling. During our last session—I didn’t handle it as well as I would have liked. I’ve been having difficulty dealing with…” She glanced again at Level Up. “Things.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” The doctor picked at the sleeve around her coffee cup. “It’s still difficult, but I’d like to help, if I can. I was sorry to hear about Miss Bell.” Cam nodded. “How are you dealing with it?”
He gave her a wry smile. “It’s been difficult.”
“I understand you and Ashley attempted to intervene.”
“Yes.”
“That was admirable.”
“It didn’t work.”
“You still tried.”
“Trying doesn’t really help me sleep at night,” Cam said wryly.
Dr. MacNamara started to respond, but the door behind Cam chimed and she stiffened and went silent. Cam heard an eager voice say, “Diana! Fancy meeting you here.”
Dr. MacNamara straightened in her chair and pulled back. “Mr. Proom.”
“‘Doctor,’ please. It’s so good to see you again,” Proom continued cheerfully. “I wanted to stop by your office and say hello. I think my PA sent word I was in town for the day, but she didn’t hear back from you.”
“I haven’t been getting messages, I’ve been on sabbatical.” Her knuckles had gone white where she was clutching her coffee cup.
“So I see.” Proom held out his hand to Cam. “Camron Scott? It’s a pleasure to meet you. Dr. Zachary Proom.”
But Cam knew that already. Devil horns would’ve been more appropriate, or at least a black cape and a widow’s peak. He wasn’t entirely prepared for the fresh-faced young man with the thick black-framed glasses and the artfully faded T-shirt proclaiming 11/2/85 Never Forget.
“Well, if you have a moment, do let me join you.” Proom appropriated a chair from another table with an apologetic, “Eminent domain,” to the girl who was sitting there and dropped his messenger bag on it, then jogged up to the counter. Dr. MacNamara let out a slow, controlled breath and then reached in
her bag for her cell phone. She texted briefly. “I apologize,” she said, tucking her cell away. “I usually have a rule against using cell phones during sessions—”
“It’s fine,” Cam said.
“You should go,” she said.
Cam glanced at where Proom was locked in friendly debate with the barista. “Would it help?”
Dr. MacNamara didn’t say anything.
Proom returned, bearing three steaming cups. “I suppose this is the best we can do. The girl at the counter claims their blend is an organic fair trade, but she didn’t seem to be able to answer any of my questions about how the plantation is run or if it was a heritage bean or anything. Still, we get what we get…” He smiled at Cam as he settled in his chair and then handed a fresh cup to Dr. MacNamara. “Skinny Chai latte, isn’t it, Diana?” She made no move to take it. “I passed by your brother’s store on the way here. It’s remarkable. I had heard from Brody that there had been some damage sustained when your brother went missing, but I can hardly see it.”
Dr. MacNamara still didn’t say anything. Cam did. “Several of us lent a hand after the police cleared it. It was mostly a lot of mess. Some minor repairs.”
“That was very considerate of you.”
“It was the least we could do. We didn’t want Ian to come back to a lot of broken glass.”
Proom shook his head sympathetically and said to Dr. MacNamara, “I am so glad that we ran into each other, Doctor. I did want to extend, in person, my sympathies on the loss of your brother.”
Cam sensed more than saw the tremor that rocked through her. He put a hand on the doctor’s arm. “I wasn’t aware he was dead,” Dr. MacNamara said.
“Oh, no. No.” Proom waved that off. “I meant ‘disappearance,’ of course. Still, on behalf of the organization, I wanted to let you know that we appreciate your loss. We sent the hat ‘round for a basket when we heard. Did you get it?”
“I did,” Dr. MacNamara said. “I can’t tell you what it meant to me.”
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