Warrior’s Cross

Chapter Seven #2

Cameron shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, especially once Preston drove the car away. In the dark, Julian almost looked like a stranger, and Cameron wanted very much to touch him, to reassure himself that this was his lover, the man who held him at night, and not some angry shadow of a man he didn’t recognize.

Julian unlocked the large front door and pushed it open, turning to look back at Cameron in the welcoming light that streamed out of the foyer. He was quiet for a long moment, and then said, “You wanted me to take you home,” he murmured to him. “So... come home with me.”

Tipping his head, Cameron looked at him intently before one corner of his mouth curled up. “I thought you were going to get on your knees and beg me there for a minute.” He took a half-step toward the threshold.

Julian growled and reached out, grabbing him with the same force he’d used earlier and yanking him into the house before slamming the door closed behind them. He kissed Cameron hard in the middle of the massive foyer, holding him tightly so he couldn’t get away.

Cameron gasped against Julian’s lips and clutched at his shoulders as he was overwhelmed. Julian had brought all his strength to bear upon him and he couldn’t resist. He draped himself against his lover, trying to kiss him back, to take part in the consuming kiss.

When Julian released him, Cameron allowed himself to look around dazedly. He jumped slightly when he noticed a nondescript man in a dark suit standing unobtrusively at the base of the staircase, his hands behind his back.

“Will that be all, sir?” the man asked Julian.

Julian didn’t tear his eyes from Cameron’s face as he waved the man off.

“Very well, sir,” the man drawled. Cameron could see the amusement in the butler’s expression as he turned and quietly disappeared into the inner reaches of the house.

Cameron opened his mouth to speak, but Julian kissed him again and cut off his words. Seconds later, Julian pulled away from him and met his eyes intently for a few moments, then began heading for the stairs, Cameron’s elbow firmly in his grasp. Cameron followed obediently, trying not to gape at his surroundings. Julian took him up to the first landing, where a hallway broke off and led them to a pair of double doors. Beyond was a relatively small bedroom that took up one of the house’s turrets.

Julian pulled Cameron inside and flipped on the lights. It was simple and sparse with nothing but a four-poster canopy bed against one wall and a sitting area in a bay window that curved in the turret’s shape. A flat-screen television hung on another wall, and there were two very large, long-haired orange cats sitting side by side on the bed staring at them with matching green eyes.

Cameron cast his gaze around the room and came to settle on the two cats. “You do live with somebody. Somebodies!” he said in mock accusation.

Julian cleared his throat as one of the cats stood and stretched languidly, then fluffed his long fur and jumped off the bed with an audible thump before prowling toward them. “That’s Wesson,” Julian muttered with a point of his finger. He nodded at the cat still on the bed and said, “And that’s Smith.”

Cameron stifled a laugh and watched them guardedly as Wesson stalked toward them. They were perhaps the largest cats Cameron had ever seen. They had to have been half-lion. He edged slightly behind Julian. “They look—” He cleared his throat. “Um. Not very friendly?”

“No, no. They’re completely evil,” Julian assured him as he bent and picked up the cat that was winding around his ankles. The cat was massive. Cameron thought it had to weigh at least twenty pounds, and then the long fur made it look twice its already impressive size. It hung over Julian’s large shoulder, making the big man look like a child trying to drag an oversized teddy bear. It was purring so loudly Cameron could hear it just fine without moving closer, and it stared at Cameron with the same blank, knowing expression its master always had. More than ever before, Julian’s mannerisms struck Cameron as being like those of a very large cat. Perhaps he spent too much time with these two beasts.

Julian gave Wesson a squeeze, and the cat let out a low, throaty meow of complaint before Julian snickered and set the cat down again.

“You live with these two monsters, and you can’t like my little bitty dogs?” Cameron asked incredulously.

“My cats would turn your dogs into hairballs,” Julian scoffed affectionately.

Cameron crossed his arms. It seemed his easy-going lover was back... for the moment. “Well, you’ve got four dogs at my place who are head over heels in love with you. And these... cats. And they are the only ones I’m willing to share with,” he said seriously.

“You think I might have someone else?” Julian asked in a hard voice as the cat jumped back up onto the bed and turned to watch them. “You think I lied when I told you I loved you?”

Cameron studied Julian’s face. He could clearly see the frustration there. He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. Then his own frustration broke free. “But can’t you understand where I’m coming from? You never show me anything! Tonight is the first time I’ve seen you angry, for God’s sake!”

Julian’s jaw clenched. “You’ve not seen me angry,” he said in a low, calm voice.

Cameron’s lips compressed, and as he shook his head, he held out both hands in a sharp movement, as if to say, ‘ Well, see? ’ “Why is pulling information out of you like pulling teeth?” he asked in frustration.

“Cameron, what will it take for you to realize I’m trying to keep you away from something ugly?” Julian asked quietly as he lifted one hand to take Cameron’s chin. “I don’t want you to see the world like I see it. What is it that you want so badly?”

“I want to know you,” Cameron answered, a little desperation in his voice. “I want to know you,” he whispered as the upset choked him and threatened to spill over.

Julian’s expression softened, and he moved the two steps to close his arms around Cameron and pull him close. Cameron clutched at his arms with trembling hands as his heart pounded with fear—fear that the time had come and Julian would put him aside.

But the large arms surrounding him didn’t move, and then he felt Julian press a kiss to the side of his head. Cameron closed his eyes and held on tight. “I love you, Julian,” he said clearly.

“I know.”

The knock came at Cameron’s door early one Friday morning. Earlier than usual, but Julian was nothing if not unpredictable when he wanted to be. The puppy procession made its noisy way to the door, hopping and jumping like crazed dust mops. Cameron shook his head and shooed them out of the way so he could look out the peephole. He opened the door in surprise.

“Preston?” he asked tentatively.

“Good morning, sir,” the man greeted with a slight nod of his head. He was dressed in his usual well-tailored suit, just like his boss always was, and his closely cropped white-blond hair was sprinkled with snowflakes that hadn’t quite melted yet. He didn’t seem to notice them.

“Would you be so kind as to come with me, sir?” he asked Cameron politely.

“Come with you?” Cameron tipped his head to one side. It had to have something to do with Julian. A niggle of fear mixed with curiosity began to grow in his chest. “Ah, sure,” he said anyway, knowing any questions he had wouldn’t be answered even if he voiced them. “I just need to get some shoes and a jacket,” he said as he kept blocking the puppies with one foot. “Do you want to come in?”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll wait here,” Preston assured him with another tip of his head and a neutral smile.

Cameron nodded slowly. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” He pushed the door shut and got his coat and running shoes. He was already in jeans and a sweatshirt; they would do. Julian seemed to prefer him in such everyday clothes. He had yet to figure out why, but he suspected it had something to do with Julian almost always having to wear such formal, expensive clothing.

He checked the dogs’ food bowls, gave them treats, and grabbed his keys as he reopened the door. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Preston didn’t say another word. He merely nodded and turned on his heel, looking disturbingly military when he did it, and led the way down the stairs to the car that waited. He opened the rear door for Cameron and stood rigidly beside it.

Cameron paused for a moment, but shrugged off the weird feeling and climbed in. “Thank you,” he said, wondering what was going on.

Julian wasn’t in the car like Cameron had expected him to be, and Preston offered no explanation as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. As he pulled out into the heavy traffic, his ice-blue eyes slid sideways to check Cameron in the rearview mirror, and he gave him what could have been meant to be a reassuring smile.

The driver reminded Cameron a lot of Julian. They looked nothing alike, obviously. Where Julian was large and bulky, Preston was wiry and hard-looking. Where Julian was dark and warm, Preston was pale and cool. But they had the same capable, unflappable air to them.

Cameron was almost certain, as he watched Preston, that there was some sort of military training behind it. He knew Blake had been a medic in some branch of the military years ago. Perhaps that was how they all knew one another. He would have to come up with the nerve to ask Julian.

Relaxing a bit into the luxurious seat, Cameron turned his eyes to watch the city pass by. It wasn’t long before the built-up areas began to fade away, replaced by the large old homes Cameron remembered from his last trip in Julian’s Lexus.

This time, in the daylight, he could see more, and the sight was even more impressive. He’d never seen houses like this in his life, even on television. It occurred to him that Julian must not be just well-off, but extremely wealthy. Just the property taxes on these places would drain most people’s bank accounts in no time, Cameron was sure. He shook his head. It just didn’t seem like Julian to be... posh. He wasn’t.

He was just Julian.

Soon enough, Preston pulled up to the iron gate that protected Julian’s driveway. He rolled down the window, letting in some chilly morning air and a few stray snowflakes as he swiped the card that sent the gate sliding open. When he pulled up to the front of the house, he hopped out quickly and came around to open Cameron’s door wordlessly.

Cameron climbed out and stood quietly as Preston shut the door and started up the steps. He figured he’d better follow, and he had to hop quickly to catch up. Preston ushered him into the large foyer, and the door shut behind them with a foreboding echo.

“This way, please,” Preston requested, and he made his way toward the massive staircase.

On more familiar ground, Cameron followed him up the stairs and down the hall to Julian’s little suite of rooms, brow furrowing along the way. “Preston, what’s—”

“He doesn’t exactly know I went to get you, sir,” Preston answered with a twitch of his lips that betrayed some amusement. “I’m not even sure he’s aware today is Friday,” he confided as they got to the set of closed heavy double doors of Julian’s bedroom.

Cameron’s eyes widened. “Aware... What’s going on? What happened?”

Preston actually smirked, a reaction he obviously tried to suppress.

He reached over and shoved the doors open, and he waved Cameron into the room.

The curtains in Julian’s bedroom were drawn, and the little bit of dull morning sunlight managing to leak around the edges was the only light in the room. It was still easy enough to make out the two huge cats on the bed, their tails flipping in annoyance at the disturbance. Beneath them, under a quilt and several pillows, was a lump that had to be Julian, curled on his side and unmoving.

“Is... is he okay?” Cameron asked shakily, trying very hard not to run right to the bed.

In response, Preston cleared his throat against a slight laugh. The figure in the bed groaned and shifted just enough to disturb the cats, who both meowed plaintively as their tails twitched harder.

“Preston,” Julian’s hoarse voice said from under one of the pillows. “Please kill me,” he requested miserably.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that will have to wait. You have a visitor,” Preston responded with a grin at Cameron. He nodded his head, urging him to go further into the room.

The unusual humor from Preston got a half-smile out of Cameron, and he shook his head as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, trying not to disturb the nearby cats. “Julian?”

Julian shifted slightly under the quilt, and his hand moved slowly to push the edge of a pillow up to reveal one dark eye blinking up at Cameron blearily.

“Cameron?” he asked in confusion, his voice almost comically muffled by his quilt.

“Yeah,” Cameron said quietly, reaching to pull the quilt down slightly. He pushed the pillow away from Julian’s head and smoothed back his hair. He was pale under the flush of what was probably a fever. “What’s wrong?” Cameron asked worriedly.

Julian answered with a plaintive groan and closed his eyes. “I’m dying,” he answered, his voice just on the verge of a whine. “What are you doing here?” he asked with the oddest hint of hope in his voice.

“Ah, I’m not really sure?” Cameron tried, glancing to Preston.

“You asked me to bring him, sir,” Preston offered helpfully.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked, barely restraining a laugh as he turned and left the room, closing the doors behind him.

“I did?” Julian asked Cameron as he opened his eyes again and blinked slowly. At the end of the bed, one of the cats stood and stretched languidly before it began stalking his way slowly toward Cameron.

“Julian—” Cameron looked from the door to the cat to his lover and back to the cat, just in case. He had only had one experience with the two animals, but he had seen just how mean and possessive they actually were. He thought he’d be safe as long as he didn’t move closer to Julian. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you sick?” He laid a hand against Julian’s forehead. He felt fevered as well as looking it, and Cameron frowned harder.

“They shot me,” Julian answered, his voice actually cracking and ending in a squeak.

Cameron blinked. “Shot? Again?”

Julian shook his head and groaned, beginning to struggle to drag the quilt off his shoulders. When he pulled it all the way down, Cameron could see his bare shoulder and chest were clearly bruised and battered, with several red welts that looked like scratches that hadn’t quite broken the skin. His forearms were bandaged heavily and his hands were bruised and badly scratched. On the upper part of his right arm was a single Care Bears Band-Aid, and he pointed at it petulantly with the other hand.

“Shot,” he spat as he pointed at it again emphatically.

Cameron stared at the Band-Aid for a long moment and then bit his bottom lip. Now, he knew why Preston was trying so hard not to laugh. “That’s just... terrible,” he managed to get out before he had to clamp his lips shut again.

The cat began to walk his way up Julian’s body, crouching on his master’s hip as Julian waved his hand. His tail twitched back and forth, sliding against Cameron’s arm as it did so.

“It’s not funny,” Julian insisted miserably. “Bad kitty!” he shouted suddenly, just before the cat pounced on him, batting at the whites of the bandages on Julian’s waving fingers and then attacking his face and biting Julian’s chin before hopping to the other side of the bed to lick himself clean.

Cameron couldn’t help it. His laughter rang out, and he almost fell off the bed as Julian burrowed back under his bedcovers for protection.

There was another tussle as the other cat joined in, pouncing on Julian’s feet as he moved beneath the covers.

“Bad kitties,” Julian muttered pitifully.

Smiling, Cameron watched his normally stoic lover so helpless and pitiful, and he found it oddly endearing. He savored it. “You’re not feeling that bad,” he remarked. “Not if you’re wrestling with those monsters.”

“They’re evil,” Julian insisted as he tucked his toes under Wesson’s loudly purring body, causing the cat to give a throaty meow of complaint.

“But you love them,” Cameron pointed out in amusement.

Julian sighed tiredly and closed his eyes, his body relaxing and going limp in the bed. “How can two tiny little shots make your entire body so bloody sore?” he asked Cameron miserably as his words slurred together.

Cameron bit his lip. “What sort of shots did they give you?” he asked in a voice that wavered with amusement.

“Tetanus and rabies,” Julian answered grumpily. His accent began to morph into something that sounded almost foreign. As if there was a hint of New England to it, maybe. “Fucking rabies. Like I’m a fucking dog.”

Cameron bit his lips hard to keep from laughing. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked after he was sure he could form the words.

“No,” Julian groaned. “My arm hurts. My leg hurts. My head hurts. My ass hurts,” he rattled off in complaint as he fussed with his pillow and wallowed miserably.

Shaking his head tolerantly, Cameron reached out to comb his fingers through Julian’s hair. “Poor baby. Your ass hurts, and I didn’t even get to contribute.”

“I can’t believe he brought you here,” Julian grumbled against his pillow.

Cameron frowned. “He said you asked him to.”

“He’s a lying bastard,” Julian claimed grumpily. “Why would I want you to see me like this?” he asked as he finally looked up at Cameron with glazed black eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’ve seen me a hell of a lot worse,” Cameron said, frowning slightly. He leaned over to kiss the corner of Julian’s eye. “You don’t have to be Mr. Tough Guy all the time.”

“Yes, but...” Julian groaned softly and shifted in bed. “I’m cranky,” he admitted. “And drugged,” he added with a point of one long, scarred finger toward a bottle of painkillers on the bedside table.

“You’re allowed,” Cameron said as he cocked his head at the bottle. He shifted slightly. “You really want me to go?”

Julian looked up at him again and pursed his lips, frowning. “Not really,” he answered finally. “If you lift my arm for me I might hug you,” he added with a small smile.

Cameron stood up, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed next to Julian. He stayed sitting up and leaned against the headboard.

“C’mere and let me hold you,” he suggested. “I promise I won’t tell.”

Julian looked around warily as if not quite trusting the situation.

Cameron didn’t imagine Julian got many offers of comfort when he was miserable like this. He struggled to push himself up from the mattress, the muscles in his back and left arm bunching with the extra effort, and he held his right arm to his body protectively as he slid a little on the bed. When he moved, the sheets fell down even more, revealing a large piece of gauze taped to his lower thigh, just above his knee. It was stark white against his skin, with a hint of red spreading through the center. He lowered himself slowly and laid his cheek on Cameron’s thigh with a sound that was nearly a whimper.

Cameron sighed and shook his head slightly as he rubbed one hand up and down Julian’s back slowly, the other beginning to twirl through his hair. “You’re bleeding,” he murmured sadly. “What really happened, Julian?”

“There wasn’t supposed to be a dog,” Julian insisted gruffly.

“A dog?” Cameron looked at the bandages and then at Julian’s arm. “You got attacked by a dog? Seriously? Was it Cujo?”

“It was a big dog,” Julian insisted. He pointed at his bite wound and displayed the defensive marks on his arms. The teeth appeared to have sunk into the muscle of his quad and taken out a chunk of it before the dog went for his throat. He’d gotten his arms up in time, and they’d taken the punishment meant for his jugular. “He didn’t even have to stand on his tip-toes,” he insisted as his eyes seemed to close against his will.

Cameron petted him soothingly. “I’m sure he was very big. And scary,” he murmured. It was on the tip of his tongue to question Julian further, but he couldn’t do it. Not when Julian was so obviously not in control of his senses.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a dog,” Julian repeated slowly. “They had to know there was a dog,” he muttered to himself. “That’s something you’re supposed to tell people.”

Cameron had no idea what to say, and none of what Julian was telling him was making much sense to him. “Shhhh,” he urged softly.

“Sleep.” He kept petting gently.

“I think they tried to kill me, Cam,” Julian mumbled, using Cameron’s nickname for the first time that Cameron had ever heard. “Death by dog. Big-ass fucking dog.”

Both Cameron’s brows rose, and he chewed his lip again. Julian had to be talking about work. Nothing else made sense. “Who would think that would kill you, Julian? You’re better than any dog.” Okay, so, he had no idea what he was talking about. But he believed in Julian’s skill, nonetheless.

“He was like Rin Tin Tin on speed,” Julian said, his words running even more. “Preston wouldn’t shoot him.”

“Well,” Cameron said, face screwing up, “I’m not sure I could shoot a dog either.”

“He was eating me!” Julian insisted pitifully. “I had to get a shot! Two shots! And I have to go back for more rabies shots! I’m probably going to wake up with fur,” he claimed, his oddly accented words beginning to truly slur with exhaustion and misery on top of the effects of the medication.

“So did you shoot him?” Cameron asked awkwardly before running his fingers across Julian’s cheek.

“No,” Julian answered grudgingly. “He was just doing his job,” he sighed, as if that was the only thing he could say to console himself for not killing the animal that mauled him. “Preston fired into the air, and it scared him. The dog, not Preston. And then he ran off to go find Blake and left me there. Bleeding. Preston did. Not the dog,” he told Cameron very seriously. “And then Blake laughed at me.”

Cameron covered his mouth, shaking with silent laughter.

“I think they set me up,” Julian said suddenly. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. “There was nothing there but a dog.”

Cameron frowned, his laughter dying. “Julian?” His lover didn’t talk about his work except in the vaguest of terms with him. He didn’t want Julian to be angry later because he’d allowed him to ramble like this.

“Hmm?” Julian responded dazedly.

“Do you know what you’re talking about?” Cameron asked tentatively.

“Usually,” Julian answered in an innocent voice.

Cameron snorted. “What about now?”

“I’m pretty sure. There was nothing but a dog,” Julian answered in the same tone.

“Right.” Cameron shook his head. Cameron knew Julian wouldn’t want him to hear him like this. “All right. Time to sleep, lover,” he murmured.

Julian’s eyes closed obediently, and his fingers tightened against the fabric of Cameron’s jeans. “It’s changing, Cameron,” he murmured. “They’re starting to eat their own.”

Cameron really hoped Julian wasn’t talking about dogs. “Just be careful,” he whispered, starting to pet Julian’s hair again. It sounded like Julian was being threatened, and that hit Cameron in the gut.

Julian was silent, his breathing even and steady for several minutes. He opened his eyes again slowly. “Would you ever leave Chicago?” he asked softly. His words were still slow, but he was obviously putting more effort into making sense.

“Never really thought about it,” Cameron admitted as he peered down at Julian. He’d thought the other man had finally fallen asleep. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve had no reason to leave. Why?”

Julian stared off into the distance for a long, silent moment before closing his eyes again. “My arm hurts,” he finally murmured in place of an answer.

Confused, Cameron let it go, instead shushing him gently again.

“Go to sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“No, it won’t,” Julian practically whined. “They hurt for fucking days.”

Cameron sighed. “I guess you’ve had a tetanus shot before, huh? Are you sure I can’t get you anything to help?”

“They gave me painkillers,” Julian answered slowly, as if measuring his words now to keep from slurring. He’d apparently forgotten he’d already told Cameron that. “Preston left an hour ago to get me ice,” he added. “Ice!” he suddenly shouted accusingly at the closed double doors, and then he buried his face against Cameron’s thigh and groaned miserably.

“Were you this cranky when you really got shot?” Cameron asked, amusement tinting his voice.

“I really got shot this time,” Julian insisted, his voice muffled.

“I mean shot-shot. With the gun,” Cameron corrected patiently.

“Getting shot with a gun is easier,” Julian claimed.

“Easier?” Cameron exclaimed in disbelief.

“People don’t laugh at you when you get shot-shot,” Julian spat as he raised his head.

“Julian,” Cameron said quietly. “I don’t want you hurt at all. I don’t care if it’s a gunshot wound or a paper cut.”

“Paper cuts hurt too,” Julian pointed out as his eyes closed once more.

“Yeah, I know,” Cameron murmured, resigning himself to holding Julian for however long it took for him to get to sleep. “You going to rest or should I get Preston to bring you some ice?”

“Rest,” Julian repeated obediently. “Cameron?” he added in a near whisper, his voice going hoarse in a manner reminiscent of the way he had spoken when he’d first said anything to him.

“Yeah?” Cameron brushed his fingers lightly over Julian’s cheek.

“If I had to pick up and leave,” Julian said in a hushed voice, “would you go with me?”

Cameron’s pulse sped, and he had to draw in a long breath as several thoughts buzzed through his mind. But what it boiled down to was... he loved Julian. “Yeah. I think I would.”

Julian’s body seemed to relax slightly, and he sighed loudly. “Next time someone tries to kill me with a dog,” he muttered.

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.