Cam's Fortune

by Odessa Lynne

  “Rick was a monster. There’s absolutely no rational explanation for anything he did and there never will be. I don’t know how the hell he turned out those kids. But I’m glad to know them and call them my own.”

  Ava took Cam’s face between her hands. “I wish I was sorry it was you who stopped him.”

  “It was a fucking privilege, Ava. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “The things you had to do—”

  Cam cut her off with a finger over her mouth. “It’s done. It’s over. I already put all that shit behind me and I like it when it stays there.”

  She nodded, but the tears gathering in her eyes fell anyway, wetting her cheeks and turning her nose red.

  “You’re not all that pretty when you cry, sweetheart.”

  “Fuck you, Campbell.”

  He laughed, and it wasn’t a soft, gentle laugh. His throat felt raw and his chest hurt, and he was so damn glad he’d finally been able to do what he’d been trying to do for years—find some way to stop Miguel from dying before any of them were ready to let him go.

  “Son of a bitch,” he said, throat thick with too much emotion.

  He caught Ava in the crook of his arm, pulled her across the distance between them, and hugged her.

  She cried against his chest, and he just held on and let her get it out.

  After a few minutes, he felt her tug on his shirt and then—

  He yanked back from her. “Dammit, Ava. Did you really just blow your nose on my t-shirt?”

  Of course, he could see clearly that she had.

  “Sorry.” She hiccupped, and then laughed, and then hiccupped again.

  Cam started yanking the t-shirt off over his head and Ava reached forward and tried to help him get it off without getting snot all over him.

  “I ought to kick your ass for that.”

  “I thought the moment could use some levity.” She started wiping her face with the bottom of her own t-shirt, clearing away the obvious signs of tears. “It makes Luis nervous if he thinks I’ve been crying.”

  Cam pushed back on the bed and stretched out inside the nook to stare up at the low ceiling directly overhead for a moment. Thin gray metal beams crisscrossed above him. The bedrooms in the bunker made good use of the nooks and crannies of the place, and he liked the cozy tightness of his room at night.

  Ava crawled over onto the bed beside him, but she had to lay on her side to keep from falling off the edge. The bed wasn’t big enough for more than one person, especially not someone as large as Cam, unless the two people sharing it didn’t mind being plastered together all night.

  Cam hadn’t invited anyone into his bed here to find out just how comfortable it would be to sleep—or fuck—that way. He kept the men he fucked well away from the boys and Ava, if only because he didn’t want Ava, Luis, or Miguel thinking his decision to fuck some guy meant that guy was someone they ought to know.

  Most of them weren’t.

  In a hushed voice, Ava started talking. “I know you probably wish you hadn’t met me and the boys, Cam, because of what Rick did to your Henry, but you’ve got to know I’ll be grateful every day for the rest of my life that it happened. I always feel so guilty for that but I can’t change how I feel. Luis and Miguel would probably be dead by now if Rick hadn’t—”

  “Don’t.” Cam closed his eyes and folded one of his arms behind his head. He sounded gruff even to himself.

  She sighed and rested her hand on his bare chest and her head on his shoulder. The end of her braided hair tickled his ribs. “Okay.”

  He lay there for a few more minutes and tried not to think of anything.

  Unfortunately, the longer he spent in silence, the more certain he was that his implants were picking up the faint vibration of a wolf’s roar.

  He sat up, careful not to bump his head on one of the beams above him. “I’ve got to go.”

  Ava slipped off the side of the bed and moved until she could stand upright. She smiled at Cam, the first one he’d seen in ages that lit up her whole face, and she exhaled a shaky breath and tugged her shirt down where it had ridden up. “I need a drink. You want one?”

  A drink sounded like a really bad idea.

  So he said, “Why the hell not? I could use a shot of whiskey.”

  One shot turned into two and two into four and by the time he stumbled down the long hallway that led to the cell where he and the others had stuck Rick, Cam was feeling pretty damn mellow.

  He was also in the mood to fuck.

  * * *

  Cam couldn’t say exactly when he realized what he was doing. One moment he was drunk out of his mind and the next he was coldly certain he’d just make a terrible mistake and the only clue he had as to what that was was the look on Rick’s face as he loomed over Cam, thrusting hard into Cam’s ass.

  Henry.

  Sweet Jesus, he realized in a moment of clarity. He’d been holding Rick by the back of his head and calling him Henry. I love you, Henry. I miss you. Why’d you have to leave me, baby? I love you so much.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  There was a reason Cam rarely drank hard liquor. It fucked him up and made him do and say things he always regretted.

  Rick’s nostrils had flared but he obviously wasn’t quite all there himself, because he buried his head against Cam’s shoulder and shook, coming for the third—fourth, fifth?—time and Cam heard the rip of fabric as those claws tore right through the platform’s thin mattress.

  That was when Cam realized he was in one of the cells with Rick. He’d entered the cell, already stripping off his shirt, and—

  Son of a bitch.

  Cam looked toward the corner of the room. Sure enough, he hadn’t even thought about doing anything with the camera.

  Sweet Jesus. Talk about a fuck up.

  Cam hissed during a particularly hard thrust and grabbed the side of Rick’s neck. Rick whimpered and rutted harder, faster, as if he was bent on shoving his cock up the back of Cam’s throat by way of his ass.

  He needed to—

  The clarity that had returned brought with it the sensation of his dick filling with blood. He might have had a whiskey dick when he entered the cell, but that ailment had disappeared along with the drunk fog clouding Cam’s brain.

  The biotech. Son of a—

  “Ahhh,” he groaned, clutching harder at Rick’s neck and bringing his other arm around Rick’s shoulders. He rode the wave of pleasure grinding through him with every one of Rick’s frantic thrusts.

  “Yeah, baby,” he muttered. “That’s it. Give it to me.”

  Rick reared up on his arms, almost dragging Cam with him because of how tightly Cam held on. Cam let go and fell back on the shredded mattress.

  “Mine,” Rick said in the wolves’ language. “Mine.”

  Cam shoved up the bottom edge of Rick’s t-shirt and flattened his hands on Rick’s hot skin. Hair tickled the edges of his fingers. He dug the heel of one foot into the taut muscle of Rick’s thigh.

  Rick’s golden eyes almost glowed in the dimly lit cell. “Mine,” he said again. And then he reached back and snagged Cam’s wrist. He shoved Cam’s arm down onto the mattress and held it there, and then did the same with Cam’s other arm.

  Cam wasn’t expecting it when Rick pulled out of him. He gasped.

  Rick reared back on his knees and with remarkable ease flipped Cam over onto his stomach.

  “No,” Cam said. He tried to shove himself upright.

  Rick pressed him down into the mattress.

  “Don’t you even fucking think about—”

  Rick kneed Cam’s thighs apart and thrust back inside him.

  “Jesus,” Cam said, voice shaking. “Jesus.”

  He knew what it meant, knew exactly what Rick was doing.

  Rick would know what he was doing too. But he was alpha and it was his right—

  Cam fisted his hand and slammed it into the wall beside the platform holding the mattress. “You asshole! I told y
ou I already had a mate!”

  Rick grabbed Cam’s wrist before Cam could bang the wall again and twisted his arm until he could push it down into the mattress above Cam’s head. He spoke for the first time since Cam had walked into the cell, “Your mate is dead. And now you have a new one.”

  Meaning Rick had understood that Ava wasn’t Cam’s mate. Possibly from the moment Cam had tried to lead him to believe she was.

  “You’re not my fucking mate. Henry was my mate. Henry! Not you!” He was yelling, and he couldn’t stop himself. He tried to push himself over again.

  Rick took hold of the back of Cam’s neck, his claws scraping the underside of Cam’s jaw. He held Cam down and slid deep inside him again, thrusting with heavy force.

  “God,” Cam said, burying his face in the sheet under him. He fisted the smooth fabric in his hands.

  Cam tried not to feel anything but his anger, but the change in position made him more sensitive than ever, and his cock started to throb with the pressure of a building orgasm. He clenched his teeth, grinding them together, but the feeling wouldn’t abate, and finally he couldn’t stop himself from trying to push his cock against the bed as Rick thrust into him.

  Rick dragged his face down Cam’s spine, his breath hot and ragged against Cam’s skin. “Taking a new mate doesn’t steal your memories of him.”

  A harsh sob tore its way free of Cam’s chest. He forced back the next one and said, voice too thick and wet, “You shouldn’t have done this. I didn’t want another mate.”

  “The universe sent you to me. I can’t reject a gift from the universe.”

  “The universe can go fuck itself. I don’t want you.”

  “If I believed that . . . I wouldn’t be mating you.”

  The fucking arrogance. Cam bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. It didn’t stop him from feeling the dark pleasure of Rick’s cock filling his ass.

  He wanted to resist, but he couldn’t.

  He finally condemned his pride to hell. “Let me get my knees under me.”

  The weight on his back lessened. Rick released Cam’s arms and lifted Cam by his hips.

  As soon as Cam had some freedom of movement, he fisted his dick in his hand and started jerking off to the rhythm of Rick pounding into his ass.

  His breath was a burning, frantic thing in his chest when he finally came, his white hot release all the hotter because of the anger firing his blood. His semen splattered the sheet under him and he felt a second’s shock when he realized Rick was coming in his ass at the same moment.

  “Oh Jesus . . . Harder, fuck me harder.”

  Rick complied.

  Cam let himself fall into the churning, rushing waters of release.

  Chapter 16

  “I’m not letting him go. Not now.”

  “You can’t keep him locked in there forever.”

  Cam glared at Ava across the rectangular table that was long enough to seat twelve and took up the majority of the floor space in the bunker’s kitchen. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. They won’t find him, and I need some time to think.”

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  He tapped his finger against the fake wood top.

  “Cam,” she said in that tone she had that invariably made him think of his father. Pace Campbell had never so much as raised his voice at Cam, and yet Pace had still gotten his point across every damn time. Cam had a great deal of respect for his father, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye.

  Even if Pace had been partially to blame for Henry’s death.

  Cam respected his father, but he still hadn’t talked to him for more than ten minutes in the last six years. He didn’t know if he ever would.

  He loved his father, but he couldn’t stand the sight of him.

  Was that going to be the future of his relationship with Ava?

  Maybe, if she didn’t back the fuck off about Rick.

  “Their rules don’t apply to us,” she said. “If you don’t want to be his mate, let him go. We don’t need anything from him. He’ll find another eventually and forget all about you.”

  He couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from snarling up. “You don’t understand them the way I do. They don’t forget. He won’t forget.”

  “They’re reasonable—”

  “Not about mates.”

  “When heat season is over—”

  “I’m telling you, he won’t forget,” Cam snapped. “What the hell do you know about it? What someone with a vested interest in keeping the peace tells everyone, to keep everyone else from panicking and deciding the renegade groups have the right of it?” He slammed the flat of his palm against the table’s top, startling both her and Olly, who was sitting at the other end of the table trying to stay out of their conversation while he ate a sandwich. “They don’t give up on mates. Ever. Not the kind of mate Rick thinks he’s found in me.”

  Ava kicked back in her chair, her brown eyes focused on his face and her mouth tight. She crossed her arms. “You’re right. I don’t know anything. So tell me, goddammit. Tell me what you think you know that I don’t.”

  “Don’t use that word in front of me.”

  “Goddammit.” Ava enunciated the word with deliberate defiance. “Goddammit, Cam. Goddammit.”

  Cam scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit.”

  She was right and she hadn’t even had to say it directly. He’d lost all objectivity. He was in a fucking mess and he had no idea what to do.

  “It doesn’t matter if he thinks you’re his mate, not when heat season is over. The treaty doesn’t force us to abide by their laws even here in the protectorate, not if they conflict with human laws. No one will force you—”

  “You don’t understand,” he said again.

  “The plan is to be out of here in a few months. He’ll be lucky to find you even if he’s looking.”

  “I’ll know.”

  He must have exasperated her patience, because she snapped, “Why the hell does that matter?”

  “I told Henry I would honor him by honoring his ways.” He curled his fingers tight on the tabletop. “When we mated, I promised. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean I can forget that.”

  Her gaze didn’t soften. “He’s dead, Cam. You honored him when he was alive.”

  “And by God, I’ll honor him while he’s dead too.”

  “Then do it. Stop acting like you don’t know what you want to do. You’ve already made your choice.”

  He closed his eyes. The throb behind his eyes intensified. All morning, he’d been fighting a headache. His right eye was especially sensitive when his eyelid came down over it, but he hadn’t taken the time to insert his temporary implant.

  Last night, before he’d wiped out on half a bottle of whiskey, he’d arranged for Olly to send Marc after the cards Liam and Eli had demanded. He half hoped Marc would return with his implant before he had time to fool with the temporary one. It was probably a vain hope. He needed to get that temporary implant in soon or risk having trouble with it when he finally got around to doing it.

  On the other hand, he’d put worries about infection aside; if the way he’d been healing from injuries lately told him anything, it was that the alien biotech ought to protect him from a simple human bacterial infection.

  Ava’s chair squeaked as she adjusted her position on the hard plastic seat. “But you can’t keep him locked up here indefinitely. It’s not right. We’re not monsters.”

  The words might as well have been a punch to the gut.

  Ava had been locked up for much longer than Cam, as had Luis and Miguel. He should’ve remembered.

  Teeth clenched, Cam said, “This is nothing like that.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. But there are lines, and I don’t want to see you cross them just because you’re going through some kind of delayed grief.”

  “What about Sal Jones?” The question came out harshly. “You wouldn’t call that crossing the line? There is no
line. Every situation is different.”

  “We saved that man’s life, whether he realizes it or not. I won’t feel guilty for getting him away from Gage Rawlins. His family is safe now, and Lane says Jones is fine.” She shimmied forward in her seat, catching his gaze. “But you’re wrong. There’s a line. And I want to stay on the right side of it.”

  Cam mashed his lips together to keep from saying something he would regret.

  Then Olly moved, obviously trying to be quiet about it as he pushed back from the table, and the tension broke momentarily.

  “Sorry,” Olly said.

  Cam gave him a sharp nod and Ava waved away Olly’s apology.

  Olly nodded back at them but didn’t linger. He slipped out of the room, leaving the kitchen to Cam and Ava.

  Ava sighed. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m coming across as the bad guy here. But we’ve done some questionable things these last few years, and it’s getting more difficult all the time to see the lines we shouldn’t cross, all in the name of the greater good, but this line isn’t that hard to see. We can’t keep him here. He’s not a criminal. Be honest and admit that you’re the one who put yourself in this position. For God’s sake, Cam, you went into his cell last night and threw yourself at him, knowing he would never be able to resist taking what you were offering. Unfortunately for all of us, we have veo proof of the whole thing.”

  Cam flexed his jaw. Of course she was right. If he’d kept the hell away from Rick last night . . .

  He might spend a lot of his time lying to other people, but Cam didn’t often lie to himself.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  Ava’s shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t erase the veo recording. In case you need your memory refreshed.”

  Cam narrowed his eyes.

  Ava shrugged. “Your recording. Your decision what’s done with it.”

  “Erase it.”

  “Consider it done.” She uncrossed her arms and slid her hand forward. She clenched her fingers tight over the back of his. “Luis saw you going in, came running for me, and by the time we got back to it, it was obvious you were . . .” She cleared her throat. “Well, it was obvious he wasn’t hurting you. I ran Luis and Tom off.” She caught his eye, and even though a flush had heated his face and neck, he didn’t back away from her frank look.