Or maybe revenge.
The door to Sam’s bedroom opened. “I spoke to Paul and Duncan,” she told him as she stepped out, waving her phone. “They’re looking for this Jason guy as we speak.”
Cameron turned away from the window to face her. “Good,” he said. “What can I do to help?”
She shrugged. “Nothing for now. We have to wait. Though we aren’t sure what to do with him once we find him. I thought I’d give you first say.”
“I want to tear him apart,” Cameron growled, years of pain and anger boiling up within him. Sam’s face changed to shock as she stepped back towards her room, but Cameron was beyond pity. Frustrated violence choked him. “I want him to suffer. I want him to see my eyes and know who killed him—and who I avenge.”
“So, what?” Sam asked. “You’ll murder a man in cold blood?” she asked.
Cameron’s jaw tightened. “He needs to suffer.” But some of the immediate anger dissipated at the words. She was probably right, something dark within him had hold.
“But you—you personally—a man that as far as I know has never killed anyone, and has no training at all, taking on a professional assassin?”
“Well—”
Her eyes flashed fire. “You’ll watch the light die from a man’s eyes and know you were responsible? I’ve killed people, Cameron. And it’s not as easy as you seem to think. In fact, it’s awful and heartbreaking and I still see faces at night, begging me not to hurt them. Real or imagined, it hardly matters anymore.” She took a breath, some of the fury draining from her. “Is that what you want for yourself? Is that what your brother would want?”
The last of the restless, seething energy sucked out of him at her words. “I’d like to,” he admitted softly, and she squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “But,” he said. “You’re probably right. I couldn’t pull that metaphorical trigger. I just…”
He flopped back on the couch and let out a long exhale. The sun sunk below the horizon, casting the room in shadow. Neither of them moved to turn on a light.
Sam approached, cautious, then eased herself in next to him. “I understand. There are people I want to dispense justice to, as well. But we can’t give in to that. Where did your cold and logical side go? That’s what we’ll need to solve this.”
Cameron scowled. “Cold and logical? Is that how you see me?”
Sam made a face. “Sure. Sometimes. I don’t know whether that’s the mask, or if that’s the real you peeking through a mask, though.”
Her gaze was steady on his, her voice casual, but something about the way she held herself tipped him off to the fact this observation bothered her. Was she looking for reassurance?
“I’ve had to play a role for a long time. I never wanted to be this guy, but I had to anyway. The mask, that’s my protection. It stops people from seeing the real me.”
“But how can you just…turn it on? Manipulate people like that?”
The pain in her eyes made him want to not tell her. But he knew, on some primal level, that if he had a hope of being with her, he’d have to open himself up to this scrutiny. Take the mask all the way off and let her see inside to the real him.
“I look for their weaknesses,” he told her. “And then I exploit them. It’s what you have to do to survive.” The room had grown dark, wrapping them in an intimate cocoon; the kind of light that encouraged secrets to be spilled.
“Could you stop?” she asked. “Once all this is over. Can you go back to the man you were before?”
And there it was. The question he’d been dreading. He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
Sam’s eyes softened. “But you want to?”
The light from the building across the street reflected in her eyes. She was so damn beautiful. Her eyes were wide with worry, and so filled with hope and affection and a complicated elixir of other emotions he couldn’t understand. He wanted this woman. Even now, when he closed in on his brother’s killer, he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her until he couldn’t remember his own name.
It was a strange feeling, wanting to give away his mission of the last few years, even for a few stolen moments.
His heart beat inexorably in his chest, drawing him towards her with each flutter against his rib cage.
“Yes,” he said, no longer sure what he referred to.
Her eyes widened, her lips parting as her breathing sped up. Her gaze dropped to his lips and she licked her own.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked on a slight gasp. A clarification or a request?
“Yes,” he said again, then did.
Her lips were soft, tentative, as they pressed against his. A tremor ran through Cameron’s hand as he cupped her face, brushing a thumb over her cheek.
With each press of their mouths the kiss deepened; slowly, steadily. He touched his tongue against hers, gratified to hear her moan. Her hands tangled in his hair, angling his head exactly where she wanted him. Cameron grinned against her mouth, one hand slipping around her back to pull her closer.
She tasted like strawberries dipped in liqueur. Fresh and sweet but with a hint of sharpness. Her kiss was heady like alcohol, too, sending his mind spinning.
His blood pounded in his ears. He wanted this woman with a fierceness he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He kissed her harder, deeper, and she responded in kind. A sexy, throaty sound bubbled up from within her, reverberating through him.
He slipped a hand beneath her shirt, needing her closer. His head buzzed with lust.
The shrill ring of the phone shattered the intimacy.
Sam startled and move back, as far from him as she could get on the couch, and Cameron suddenly felt cold. She eyed him speculatively as the phone rang again, and Cameron couldn’t figure out what she thought. But he could tell he probably wouldn’t like it.
The phone buzzed again.
“You should get that,” he said.
She blinked, coming back to herself. “Yeah.” She dived for the phone and accepted the call. “Yes?”
She looked so sexy and mussed, sitting there in her casual clothes and no makeup. So naturally herself Cameron found himself enchanted. His heart still pounded in his chest, urging him to keep touching her.
Even if she ended that call and told him their kiss had been a mistake, Cameron wouldn’t believe it. She felt their chemistry. Yes, there would be complications if they started a relationship, but nothing they couldn’t overcome.
Particularly once he took down Jason Turner.
He was tempted to pull the phone out of her hand and draw her back into his arms, but instead he shifted back out of reach. There’d be plenty of time for that later.
Until Sam’s face changed to one of horror, and Cameron knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore.
“Thanks for letting me know. Keep me updated.” She ended the call.
“What?” Cameron asked, reaching for her hand. “What happened?”
She swallowed, then looked him dead in the eye. “George Franklin was found dead in his house this morning,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears. “And I’m pretty sure it’s our fault.”
◆◆◆
“How did he die?” Cameron asked. The words were distant through the rushing in her ears. The phone screen went black but she still stared at it, trying to process what she’d just heard. They were responsible for a man’s death. A man that had helped them.
“Heart attack,” she said, her voice faint. “Apparently.” She glanced up at Cameron to see his reaction.
Cameron scowled. “That’s pretty coincidental.”
“I agree. Far too coincidental. Particularly after we learned the speciality of the female assassin that attacked you.” She placed her phone on the end table, her sense of purpose and determination beginning to replenish.
“Right. But why kill Frank now? After all this time?” Cameron looked at her as if she had the answers, and Sam realised she’d have to come up with some.
“Because we went to see him. I don’t know whether they’d intended to kill him all along and couldn’t find him, or if our visit just made them nervous and they didn’t want to take any chances.”
“How did they know?”
“I thought someone watched us, but figured they wanted us, not Frank. I didn’t think to warn him, because I believed they’d have no reason to go after him. But it’s clear they’ve become incredibly paranoid recently.”
Cameron reached out and took her hand. “It’s not your fault.”
She shook her head, denying his words. “It is. I should’ve known, particularly after all he’d been saying. And now a little girl doesn’t have her granddad because I got careless.”
Tears stung her eyes, her chest growing tight with guilt.
“We couldn’t have known,” Cameron replied. “He’d been safe for so long, it’s reasonable to think they let him live for a reason. And you couldn’t be sure someone watched us. The man was already paranoid—telling him an assassin might have followed us to his house could’ve sent him off the deep end.”
Sam exhaled. “We need to make this right,” she told Cameron. “For his family.”
He nodded. “How do we do that?”
“We need a real plan to take Erica down, now. We’ve got an assassin on our tail—a good one—who might strike at any moment. Might succeed. We have to stop the power players at Beaton before that happens. If they’re killing people we talk to, the Moretti brothers might be next, so we should call and warn the guards at the prison. I might get a cop friend of mine to do that. Her word will have more weight.”
Cameron studied her with an intensity that made her self-conscious.
“What?” she asked, stopping her spiel.
“Nothing. I like you like this. Confident and take-charge. It’s sexy.”
Sam blushed hotly, remembering their kiss, and the feel of his hands on her. It had been a long time since she’d let a man get that close, wanted a man that close. Despite all the reasons they shouldn’t be together—shouldn’t have kissed—Sam was happy to know she hadn’t fully lost the ability to feel passion like that.
But a part of her still couldn’t fully trust Cameron. If she gave him her heart and her body, he could use it and throw it away. She couldn’t bear that to happen again. While his reassurance the cold mask he wore sometimes was just that—an armour to protect his true self—did put her mind somewhat at ease, doubt still nagged in Sam’s mind. A fear she’d trusted the wrong man yet again.
But now wasn’t the time to think about those things. They had far more important things to deal with.
“After that,” she said pointedly, giving him a warning glare so he wouldn’t bring up the kiss again. “We have to move on from the information gathering stage we’ve been in, and actually figure out how to use this to bring Erica, Danny, and Beaton down.”
“And Jason?” Cameron asked.
“I know you won’t want to hear this, but I think we’ll have to set aside our pursuit of him until we’re safe again. He’s a distraction we can’t afford right now.”
Cameron’s jaw clenched. “Can’t we do both?”
Sam shook her head. “We need to prioritise. It’s not smart to split our focus.”
“What happens when you bring down Erica and Beaton, and the threat is gone? Do you just disappear? It’s not part of your job description to help me find justice for my brother.” He eyed her. He’d put his mask on again, as if telling her that her answer didn’t matter to him. But cracks appeared this time. Sam didn’t know if it was because she knew him better, or because he could no longer maintain the same coldness he’d once exuded, but she could tell her answer was important.
“I’ll help you. I want to see this through. And I have a feeling you’ll get yourself into trouble without me.”
Some of the tension that had seized his muscles dissipated and he smiled. “You’re right. I would.”
“Since we need to move quickly on Erica, it won’t be long before we can turn our attention to Jason,” she reassured him.
“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he replied on a sigh. “I suppose a few more days won’t matter.”
She smiled at him, then called Destiny—a police officer that had once served with Duncan in the Army, and often helped Soldiering On with their cases. She explained the situation, and Destiny promised to immediately help get protection for the Moretti brothers inside prison.
Once the phone call finished, she turned back to Cameron.
“So, we need a way to bring Erica down as soon as possible. Without people willing to testify against her, we can’t go to the police. We have no evidence she or Beaton have done anything wrong.”
“So what do we do?” Cameron asked.
“I guess we have to go the ‘trial by public’ route. Expose her, and Beaton, for everything they’ve done wrong. She’ll be fired, and clients will flee from them in droves. They won’t have the power to keep coming after us, and no doubt the public will find the proof we’ve been looking for. If they lose their power, people like the Moretti brothers might even be willing to testify, since they won’t be so afraid of them.” She stood, pacing as she sorted through her options.
“That’s genius,” Cameron said appreciatively. Warmth spread through Sam at the words, and the way he looked at her with such admiration.
She shrugged to minimise the appreciation. “It makes the most sense.” She turned away so he wouldn’t see how he affected her.
“Well, if you want clients to hear about this, then the event coming up this week would be perfect. All the heavy-hitting clients will be there.”
At his words, she turned back around. “The one you’ve been overseeing? What’s it for?”
“It’s a ten year anniversary party, but they’re using it as an excuse to butter up their most important clients. There’ll even be a few journalists—mostly from the society section of newspapers and bloggers.”
She bounced, once, excitement running through her veins. This could work out better than she’d hoped. “Journalists? How perfect. Okay, normally I’d want to go to the journalists ahead of time, but after Frank’s death, I think that would be too risky. Instead, we’ll have to announce it at the event itself, so Erica will be caught by surprise.”
“That makes sense. I’m not supposed to give a speech at the event, but Erica will. I think I could get myself on stage if you need me to make the announcement.”
Sam shook her head. “No, that’d be too dangerous. They might take a shot at you, or escort you off stage before you get a word out. We’ll have to have something set up, an audio or video file, that we can play when the time’s right and then disappear.”
“I’ll do the talking then. We can record me telling the story of my brother. It’ll tug on their heartstrings.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile.
“Sure,” she said, but her mind was on the audio recording of their conversation with Frank.
“What?” Cameron asked. “Not a good idea?”
“No. It is. It’s just…” She hesitated. How would Cameron react when he discovered she’d kept it from him?
“Tell me,” Cameron demanded.
“I recorded our conversation with Frank,” she said in a rush. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but now—”
“Now he’s dead?” Cameron asked cynically. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He was mad, his eyes flashing and jaw tightening. She swallowed.
“I didn’t know what you’d do. If you knew I had it, I worried you might…use it. Without Frank’s permission.”
He scowled at her. “You didn’t trust me? You thought I’d put him in danger like that without his consent?”
Sam shrugged helplessly. “It was a possibility. I didn’t want to take the risk.”
The muscle in Cameron’s jaw worked. “That’s how you see me?”
Sam hesitated, not sure what to say. “I didn’t know what to think. That mask you put
on can be scary. I wanted to be sure.”
Cameron squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, some of the fury had died within them. “Okay. We’ll consider using the recording. But only if we get his family’s permission first. How does that sound?”
“I’m fine with it.” When he didn’t say anything else, just stared at the wall, Sam cleared her throat. “Are you mad at me?”
He sighed, and the remainder of his anger disappeared. “No. I hadn’t noticed how much I’d changed, I suppose.” He gave her a tight smile and stood. “I think I need some alone time. Let me know if anything changes.”
“I will,” she said. “And we probably will still need your voice on the recording.”
He nodded wearily, and Sam couldn’t help but think she’d really hurt him.
“That’s fine.” He shuffled to his room and shut the door behind him.
Maybe it was for the best he stay mad at her. It certainly made her life easier. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not she should start something with Cameron, and risk getting hurt in the process. Yes, definitely best they keep it strictly professional from now on.
So why did she feel so sad?
She shook off the mood and returned her focus to their plan, no longer feeling as confident in its success.
“This’ll work,” she said to herself. Providing they lived long enough to pull it off.
Chapter 17
By morning, Cameron had largely forgiven Sam for not trusting him with the recording. Clearly she’d had a bad experience with someone in her past that made her wary. He was willing to bet a former boyfriend. It would somewhat explain her reticence towards him, too. He resolved to ask her about it, later. For now, though, he had to refocus on his mission. The disagreement with Sam put his priorities back in order—justice for his brother came first. He couldn’t get distracted.
He had to put his cold mask back on and face Erica after confirming she’d sent the assassins after him. Even as they drove to work, he could feel the tightening in his spine as he straightened his posture and focused on the mission ahead.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Sam said from the driver’s seat.
Hotel Hideaway: (Soldiering On #4) Page 12
