Chapter 5 Camile
CAMILE
I jerk upright in bed to find the room in darkness, except for a faint glow of moonlight from outside, filtering in through the thin curtains.
Immediately, I know this isn’t my room. Where the hell am I?
My throat is dry, and I lick my lips as I swallow past what feels like a lump of dread blocking my throat.
Why is my head throbbing so badly? Why do I feel as if I've slept for a year but also hardly at all?
My heart rate begins to slow as my eyes adjust to the light, and I take in the fact that I’m lying on my side, facing the wall in a room.
The distant thump of heavy bass reaches my ears.
The clubhouse. Suddenly, the memories of the previous night rush back to fill in the blanks and I remember where I am.
The biker compound.
Shit. I climbed over the fence and came to Jack. The last place I should have run to, and the last man I ought to have asked for help. Still, he let me stay.
Thank God, too. The thought of what happened to me before I got here, and what could have been the outcome, has an ice-cold rock of terror lodging in my stomach.
Something is different, though I can’t quite put my fingers on what.
My arms are bandaged from where the woman called Shelley had cleaned up all my cuts and grazes, but they still sting.
It could have been far, far worse, though.
I remember being brought a cup of tea as I was reassured that I was safe here.
Hadn’t I gone to sleep with the lamp on?
I was sure I hadn’t wanted to be left alone in the dark, though it would seem like I am now.
My fears instantly invade my thoughts.
What will happen when I go back to Verona Falls and must face Ledger again? I really don't think I can. Even if the dean gets rid of him, people will probably hear about what happened and talk. My reputation will be trashed, and, if my family hears about this, I'm going to be in so much trouble.
I groan under my breath and bury my face into the crook of my arm. Why did I do it? I just wanted to live a little and have a normal life before I got married off, and now I might have ruined everything.
Father might refuse to find me a husband.
A part of me wonders if that would be a good thing, but the way I’ve always envisioned my future has been that I’d become someone’s wife.
If I wasn’t, what would become of me? Would Father simply let me stay at our compound?
A spinster daughter, living there forever?
I doubt it. Will I be disowned if I don't marry and be left to support myself?
The thought makes me spiral. Could I support myself? On paper, I’ll have a degree, but I don’t have a lot of skills. Most of the things I’ve been taught at Verona Falls have circled around how to be that perfect wife—but that is probably ruined now.
Despite not wanting to be in an arranged marriage, I have always dreamed of having a family of my own one day. I’d love to have a whole gang of kids and a husband who genuinely loves me for me, not for who my family are.
I have reason to worry. Things haven't been great for my family for a while, and everyone is on high alert and stressed. It shows whenever I have gone back home over the last few years. There are always turf wars when you’re as high up in this game as my family, but in recent years things have escalated to a frightening point.
One of my cousins, who lives in a satellite compound, was taken and tortured two years ago.
He didn't give them the information they needed, so the rival gang killed him. His body was dumped back outside the compound, with a note attached to it, via a knife through his heart. I’d overheard my father tell Mom that the note was a proverb from the Bible.
Such are the paths of all who go after ill-gotten gain; it takes away the life of those who get it.
My father’s greed has brought us wealth beyond imagination but also a life that resembles a prison. Some days, I imagine my mother leaving my father and moving back to America. She won’t, though. She’s too frightened to ever leave him.
From directly behind me, someone snorts a single snore.
The sound jars me out of my endless internal monologuing and slams me back into awareness of the room. I freeze.
What the fuck?
The rush of air that follows the sound, brushing over my neck, makes my blood run cold. I’m scared to turn around, but I know I must.
Who is in bed with me? My first, and stupid, thought goes to a ghost, but I know I’m being ridiculous.
Jack. It must be Jack. It’s the only thing that makes sense. A rush of fear and excitement at what this could mean hits me at the same time.
Did he let himself into this room to sleep next to me? Does it mean he's changed his mind about what he said when he turned me down? Sucking in a deep breath, I brace myself and slowly turn my head to look behind me.
What. The. Hell?
My eyes widen. It's the handsome guy with curly hair, the man who seems like one of those guys who is all fun and games, until something snaps, and then he turns dangerous. He was at Vani’s party. What was his name? I search my brain as I stare at him in confusion.
Ace, I suddenly recall.
Why the fuck is Ace in my bed?
Did he touch me? I carry out a fast, full body check, but no, my clothes are on, nothing feels different, and anyway, he’s fast asleep. His pretty lips are parted as soft rushes of breath blow in and out.
After what happened with Ledger, panic hits me hard and fast.
With a gasped cry, I use both my hands and feet to shove him. He falls right off the bed, landing on the floor with a dull thunk.
“Fuck me,” he groans. “That’s not a fun way to wake up.”
I bolt off the bed and rush for the door, but a strong arm grabs me around the waist and pulls me back against solid muscle, lifting me off my feet.
God, he moved fast. Ace might not be built quite as big as Jack, but who is? The man is still solid goddamn muscle, though, and even though I kick against him, I can’t get him to let up his grip.
“Let me go,” I yelp.
“Jesus, Camile, calm down.” He huffs a laugh against my neck.
He thinks this is funny?
God, he must be a sociopath or something.
“Please,” I whimper, “I won’t say anything. Just let me go.”
“What’s wrong? You’re acting crazy. You had a bad dream, so I came in here to make sure you were okay and laid beside you to keep you company.”
His words are sincere, but what he’s saying is so… messed up that it stops me in my tracks. The minute I cease kicking and fighting, he lets me down. Whirling on him, I place my hands on my hips.
All fear is forgotten as my temper flares.
My mother comes partly from old American money and is icy cool, but when pushed, she has a sudden, fiery temper.
I didn’t inherit her looks, but I sure got her temper.
Most of the time, I push it down like the good girl I am, but every now and then, it comes roaring out in flashes of defiance.
I stare at him. “You thought, genuinely, that it would be a good idea to slide into the bed of a girl who was assaulted this very evening?”
His eyebrows draw together, and the happy-go-lucky guy is gone as his features morph into something much darker. “I didn’t get in bed. I stayed dressed on top of the covers. You were upset in your sleep. Isn’t that what girls want when they’re upset? Someone to hold them in the dark?”
“You’re crazy,” I screech. “Get out.”
“Hey.” He holds his hands up in defense as if I’m going to hit him. “I just wanted to comfort you.” He seems to think of something, and his face brightens again. “I have kittens!”
What the—?
The door bursts open, and I whirl around to see Jack framed in the doorway like a tank.
“What in the actual fuck is going on in here? Ace, why are you in her room?”
There’s real murder shining in Jack’s gaze, and I suddenly fear Ace might be about to lose his head.
“She was having bad dreams,” Ace says as if that explains it all.
Oh, he’s really going to get his ass kicked.
Jack’s jaw ticks, and I can see the Herculean effort he’s making not to murder Ace where he stands.
“Which one of you fuck-ups let him in?” Jack turns to the two men lurking on the porch outside.
They both shake their heads at the same time. “We didn’t,” one says.
“They ran off up the hill and left her.” Ace points at the two men as though he’s a kid telling on his two big brothers.
“We thought there was a threat, asshole,” the second man snarls at Ace.
“Whatever. There wasn’t, clearly, and you left her unguarded. I came and watched the door, but I heard her having bad dreams, so I came inside to keep her company.”
“Did you fucking touch her?”
The way Jack asks the question is terrifying, but it also makes me ache between my legs. There’s a possessiveness there that I’m sure he’d deny, but it’s clear as day.
“God, no.” Ace sounds as if the very idea is an affront to his entire manhood, and for a moment, I’m offended.
Jack scrubs a hand over his weary face. “Ace, you’re… fuck my life, you’ve got to be more fucking normal, man.” Then his face softens, but only a touch, as he looks to me. “Are you okay?”
I huff out a breath. “Yes, I’m fine, but I’d really like him to leave.”
I turn to Ace and raise a brow.
He sighs and looks so crestfallen a part of me feels bad.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he tells me. “I only wanted to help. What do you like? Jewels? Shoes? Perfume?” He smiles a little, lopsided and so gorgeous. “Muffins? Kittens?”
Okay, Ace is not right in the head. Not right in the head at all.
“Kittens?” Jack asks suspiciously.
Ace shrugs. “Women like animals.”
“Have you been rescuing things again, Ace?”
He bites his lower lip, his gaze shifting from side to side. “No?”
Ace’s expression clearly says that he has. Never mind the fact that he answers as if asking a question himself. It almost makes me smile.
“Listen, get to fucking bed right now before I beat some sense into you, and seeing as I think that’s impossible, it will be a massive beating.”
Ace nods. “Yes, Prez.”
Ace turns to me, makes the prayer thing with his hands, and bends his head then leaves.
Once he’s gone, I focus my attention on Jack. “I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t ask him in or anything.” Then I add, “He’s… a lot.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“Fucking kittens,” one of the men from outside says. “First it was raccoons, and then a goddamned rat, so I suppose kittens is a step up.”
I glance between them, confused, and Jack’s face breaks into the first smile I’ve seen all night. It’s small, but it’s there, and it takes my breath away.
“Ace likes to rescue things,” Jack explains. Then his face grows thoughtful as he looks at me. “He collects lost things.”
Snapping back to being his usual bossy self, he turns to the two men. “You can go; I’ll stand guard.”
He goes to leave, but my words stop him.
“Jack, did your men find Ledger yet?”
Beneath his beard, his lips press into a thin line. “Sorry, baby-girl. Not yet.”
“Oh.” I exhale my disappointment.
Turning on his heel, he walks to the door and pauses to glance back at me. “Shout if you need anything. I’ll be just the other side of the door.”
With those final words, he closes the door, leaving me all alone. I’m hyperaware that tomorrow my fate might be decided, and even more aware that all that separates me from Jack-the-blood McGrath is a flimsy door.
Sitting on the bed, trying to take it all in, four words keep running through my mind.
He collects lost things.