Warrior's Cross

by Abigail Roux

  Cameron smiled tremulously, glad Julian couldn’t see it. “Okay,” he breathed agreeably.

  Cameron took a couple vacation days from work and stayed at Julian’s house most of that weekend, venturing out only to return to his place and feed the puppies. He found himself spending most of the time trying desperately not to laugh about how miserable Julian was because of his shots and the dog bites. There was something so wrong yet so funny about such a large, stoic man whimpering about being drugged and sore.

  While Julian slept off the misery, Cameron spent the rest of his time trying not to piss off Smith and Wesson, trying to get Preston to say more than a few words at a time, and trying not to worry about the things Julian had said when he’d been suffering from the effects of the painkillers.

  He’d also explored Julian’s house a little, feeling almost like a small child who was up past his bedtime and snooping. He discovered there were a total of four people on staff at the house: Preston, the butler, a maid, and a cook. They were all friendly, if reserved.

  On Monday Julian was up and about but doing nothing more intense than showing Cameron a secret passage that went from the study to the kitchen. It had made him laugh like a little kid as he showed Cameron how to get in and out of it.

  They’d spoken no angry words, they’d not dealt with secrets or mysteries, and the most stressful thing they’d done was play with Smith and Wesson, an activity that often included screaming at the top of your lungs when one of the cats got tired of being poked and latched onto a toe or other suitably tender area.

  It had been fun, spending time with Julian somewhere different but still safe. Thinking that, Cameron found himself more disturbed than ever.

  Back to work, Cameron smoothly delivered dinner to a couple dining out on a quiet Tuesday night, answering their questions about the gourmet selections and promising to check on them soon. When he returned to the service area, Miri was waiting for him. It was her first night back after a week off to visit her family.

  “How was your weekend?” she asked him pointedly.

  Cameron peered at her, wondering where the attitude was coming from. “It was fine. Quiet. I took the weekend off. How was your visit home?”

  “Cam,” she said in a low, serious voice. “Don’t avoid the subject I’m tactfully trying to address, okay? Did you talk with him?”

  “A little,” Cameron admitted. Although he’d never minded Miri’s curiosity before, now he was uneasy. Julian had been right all those months ago; she was damn nosy.

  “And?” she prodded

  “Look, I appreciate that you’re concerned,” Cameron said to her in growing annoyance. He’d just gotten comfortable with Julian again. He didn’t need Miri bringing up more tricky questions. “But it’s really not any of your business who he is or what he does.”

  Miri narrowed her eyes and looked at him closely. “Did you even ask him who he is?” she asked after a moment of studying him.

  “I know who he is,” Cameron said quietly. “He’s my lover, and that’s enough for me.”

  Miri sighed and closed her eyes as another waiter brushed past them carrying a large tray. She waited until they were alone once more and stepped closer to Cameron. “Is he married?” she asked worriedly.

  “No!” Cameron said. “He’s not married, he’s not closeted, he’s not a crook, and he’s not a danger to me,” he told her, repeating himself diligently.

  “He broke his arm that one time and gets all those bruises from dealing antiques?” Miri asked flatly.

  “He kickboxes,” Cameron told her, shocking himself with the lie that came so quickly to his lips. “Look, just drop it, okay?” he asked in a pained voice as he threw down his towel in frustration. “I’m happy right now. Can’t you be satisfied with that?”

  She winced and reached out and took his hand gently. “I want you to be happy,” she insisted. “But what sort of relationship can you possibly have if you know nothing about him?” she asked. “He’s the big, bad rich guy, and you’re the poor little waiter he keeps on the side?”

  Cameron sighed in exasperation and turned away from her. Every time she questioned him, all his insecurities and worries flooded back, no matter how much he tried to remember Julian’s soft words and reassurances. He stalked toward the employee workroom, knowing without a doubt that Miri would follow him.

  She did, hustling after him and talking as she followed. “So far all I’ve seen is that he comes here every week and barely speaks to you, and when he was with people he knew, high-class type people, he told you not to speak to him, like he’s embarrassed to be with you,” she rambled. “Plus, you don’t even know how to get in touch with him! You were at death’s door, you were so sick that one time, and he didn’t even know it!”

  “He was out of town—” Cameron began to explain, but what Miri said was true. Julian hadn’t ever offered a phone number, and Cameron knew why, at least vaguely. Julian was trying to protect him. Right?

  “He wasn’t out of town when you were sick,” Miri muttered. “He was here, eating dinner with Blake. Another one of his high-class friends.”

  Cameron refused to answer until they were in the workroom with the door shut firmly behind them. “That’s not how it is,” he insisted. His voice was stronger now as he felt a flare of anger. He was angry because, deep down, he wasn’t certain of anything he was defending. And he was scared. Scared of the secrets. Scared of what might happen. He wasn’t even sure what else.

  He’d seen Julian’s temper. He’d seen Julian’s strength; the quick bursts of speed and power he used to manhandle Cameron. And Cameron didn’t even want to delve into the issue of how used to being in control Julian was. Cameron had never tried to take the reins, but would Julian even allow it if he did? To this point Cameron had never been afraid of Julian. But knowing the little he did now, he had to admit it would be easy to be scared.

  Miri met his eyes worriedly. “I know you’re head over heels, Cam,” she said gently. “But can you really handle him?” she asked doubtfully. “I mean…”

  Cameron practically sagged in front of her and leaned back against the wall, distraught. What little Julian had told him about what might happen swirled in his mind. He knew, without a doubt, that Julian would never hurt him physically. But mentally? Emotionally?

  “I don’t know,” he whispered with a helpless shrug. “But I’m sure as hell going to try.”

  Miri sighed softly and shook her head, the corner of her mouth twitching with a slight smile. “You’re in love,” she announced, as if just discovering the fact. “I’m happy for you, Cam. Just don’t get your heart broken, okay?” she requested softly as she turned to go.

  Cameron slowly leaned against the wall as Miri walked away, frustration and helplessness swirling around him. He was certainly in love. And he was afraid, the way he’d been feeling lately, that his heart was breaking anyway.

  Nearly ten minutes later, the door opened slightly and Miri stuck her head back in. “It’s Tuesday,” she reminded him softly. “He’s here.”

  Cameron shuddered. He couldn’t go out there and face Julian tonight. He couldn’t go out there and look Julian in the eye and be able to tell him that he was okay when he really wasn’t. Julian could see through him like glass. Just last night, he’d been fine. And now…

  He tried to pull himself together, rubbing his face with the heels of his hands until his eyes were red from the abuse. He didn’t even notice when someone else entered the workroom a couple of minutes later.

  “Cam?”

  He looked up to see one of his fellow waiters standing there, looking at him in concern.

  “Are you okay?” Charles asked.

  Rubbing at his face with his hand again, Cameron shook his head. “I… I’m just not feeling right,” he stuttered, trying to stall and decide whether to go out and alert Julian to the problem or just hide back here like a coward. He liked the sound of cowardice tonight.

  “You don’t look good. Why don�
��t you go home? I’ll take care of your tables,” Charles offered.

  Cameron nodded slowly, mulling it over. “I think I might just do that,” he croaked. “Thanks, Charles.”

  Charles frowned worriedly but nodded, then turned to go, closing the door quietly behind him. Cameron took in a shuddering breath.

  He knew if he came back at Julian with yet more worries and insecurities so soon after their last discussion, Julian would be irritated. More than irritated. He could almost see the exasperation that would be on his lover’s face.

  He needed to talk to Julian, but he needed to do it when he had all his ducks in a row. Right now, his ducks were all over the fucking pond.

  Cameron sat in the workroom for longer than he’d intended. He finally realized that if he didn’t do something soon, either Blake or Julian would find him. He left without speaking to anyone, got his jacket, and fled quietly out the service entrance.

  It was late, far later than he’d realized, and he was utterly exhausted. He feared it wouldn’t take but one look at Julian to send him into another fit of uncertainty, and he hated that. Cameron knew Julian didn’t like his insecurities, and he wondered how long his lover would be so understanding of them before he got fed up. He rubbed at his eyes as he walked down the street, not really paying much attention to where he was walking.

  “Do I scare you?” Julian’s voice asked out of the darkness of the alley Cameron was passing.

  That Cameron actually jumped in fright didn’t help. He stood gasping before he could turn and look for Julian in the shadows. “Julian?” he hissed. “What the hell kind of question is that to ask out of the dark? You just scared the shit out of me. And how’d you even know I was here?” he demanded.

  “It’s what I do. Do I scare you when I’m not lurking in alleyways?” Julian posed seriously as he stepped out into the light, not even bothering to apologize.

  Cameron swallowed hard. He couldn’t get any words past his lips. He truly believed it wasn’t Julian that scared him, but the entire situation. The secrecy and the obvious danger. Everything that surrounded the other man. And then there was the question of whether Julian was even one of the “good guys.” But how was Cameron supposed to separate the man from his life?

  Julian stepped closer and cocked his head, peering at Cameron through the gloom. “I do, don’t I?” he asked sadly, wincing visibly at the realization.

  Cameron couldn’t do anything but look at Julian miserably. He remembered the first time they’d talked about this, how Julian had claimed he’d never been with someone who hadn’t, at some point, been frightened of him. It made his heart ache to see Julian react to him now.

  “I… I don’t know,” Cameron stuttered, trying to be honest with himself and with Julian despite how much it might hurt them both. “I don’t think you do, but then something happens, and—”

  “Something happens to make you question me,” Julian observed as neutrally as possible.

  Cameron could almost see him internally trying to come to terms with this new turn of events. He bit his lip to keep from trying to apologize. He had to be honest now if they were ever going to resolve this. “Maybe,” he answered regretfully. “I wait for you every night, counting the days ’til I get my damn turn with you, scared to death that you won’t be coming back. What sort of life is that?”

  Julian pulled back and looked at him with a hurt frown. “I’ve been doing everything I can to protect you,” he insisted.

  “But are you doing everything you can to protect yourself?” Cameron demanded.

  “Of course!” Julian snapped in frustration.

  Cameron’s shoulders hunched. “I still worry about you. Wonder if you’ll be back. Wonder if you’ll be killed or hurt somewhere where I can’t get to you. Wonder if something will go wrong and you’ll have to just… disappear. I love you, Julian, but every thought like that is so painful I can hardly stand it. And apparently everyone I know is scared of you!”

  “What the hell does that matter?” Julian asked in frustration.

  “It matters to me!” Cameron insisted.

  “You can’t have it both ways!” Julian hissed. “I can’t be this nonthreatening entity you and your friends seem to want me to be and still be the type of person able to protect myself and you like I have to!”

  “What is it about your life that’s so dangerous that makes you feel I can’t handle knowing about it?” Cameron blurted. The fear of what he was doing actually clawed at his throat. “It’s not so dangerous that it keeps you from coming back week after week.”

  Julian took a step back as if Cameron had actually slapped him. Cameron couldn’t see any emotion in Julian’s black eyes, but he knew he’d hurt him.

  “That’s because I’m fucking good at what I do,” Julian snarled after a moment. “I can come back because I am fucking dangerous,” he said in a low, angry voice. “It’s what I do!”

  Cameron tried to hold back the tightness gathering in his throat. “What you do—what you do? I don’t know what that is, except it means you get hurt and shot at and beat up and maybe even killed,” he said. “If that’s your job, I’ll never stop being scared. I’ll never stop hurting.”

  Julian stared at him, visibly stricken by the implication. “Do I hurt you, Cameron?” he asked suddenly. “Do I abuse you in some fashion? Do I leave you with any doubts whatsoever that I love you and I’m doing everything in my power to be with you?”

  “I’ll never believe that you would hurt me physically,” Cameron answered confidently.

  “Physically,” Julian echoed. “If not that, then what?”

  “How about emotionally?” Now that Cameron was on this road, he had to get all the doubts out there or they’d eat him up inside.

  Julian stared at him in disbelief, for once his emotions playing clearly across his face. “This is what you think of me?”

  “I love you more than anything. I can live with not knowing the details. But you tell me how I’m supposed to live like this and not be scared,” Cameron choked out. “Live with you not even two days a week, not knowing where you are or what you’re doing or if you’re coming back. How long will this go on? Do people like you retire? Is there anything in the future but a funeral? You haven’t told me anything!”

  Julian brought his hand up to push against his stomach as if he might be ill. He looked away and actually groaned softly. “Are you telling me it’s all or nothing?” he asked with difficulty, unable to look back at Cameron just yet. “You or my job?” he breathed as he finally forced himself to look at Cameron and meet his eyes.

  A tear escaped to trail down Cameron’s cheek. He found it within himself to straighten up and look clearly at the man he loved. If Julian had taught him anything, it was to stand up for himself. “I can’t live like this, always scared, never knowing if you’re okay or if you’re coming back.”

  Julian’s stricken black eyes searched Cameron’s for long moments of tense, painful silence. Finally, he lowered his head and nodded, not saying a word in response. He turned silently and began walking back toward the shadows.

  Cameron was so stunned that he couldn’t even breathe, much less call out to stop him, and the tears spilled free as the darkness swallowed Julian up.

  Miri stood quietly at the counter, organizing the early evening’s tickets. It kept her mind busy on the slow nights, especially when she didn’t want to get stuck with bathroom duty. She turned up her nose slightly as she punched numbers into the register.

  Movement caught her eye, and she glanced up to idly watch Blake as the man walked slowly across the floor to the bar area, where a stranger in a black pea-coat sat hunched over on the end stool. Blake walked up to him and actually sat down beside him. They sat side by side for several minutes, neither man moving or speaking. Finally, Blake said something to him, stood back up, and gestured to the door.

  Miri frowned. She’d never seen Blake tell someone to leave the restaurant before, and she wondered what in the world the
man could have done or said. The man turned on his stool, staring at Blake for a long moment before he stood, picked up his heavy glass with a smirk, and walked out with it. Blake didn’t even try to stop him from taking the glass with him.

  Miri’s brow furrowed as she caught sight of the man moving, almost prowling, out the door. It was a little creepy, truth be told, and after seeing that, she was happy Blake had asked the man to leave.

  After a moment of watching the man in the pea-coat walk away, Blake moved and disappeared into the back. Concerned, Miri set her checks aside and followed Blake, intending to ask him if everything was okay. She followed him to his office; he hadn’t even bothered to close the door entirely before he picked up the phone and dialed.

  Miri stopped short at the half-open door when she caught some of his words.