Chapter 12
“Hi, Mom,” Cam said weakly, as Brooks opened the door to their motel room. The musty smell of old furniture and dust greeted her as she walked in behind Brooks and shut the door, locking it behind her.
“Cam! Oh my god. What’s going on? You’re on the news.”
She threaded her fingers through the roots of her hair. Grease met her fingertips, reminding her she’d missed her hair-wash day. “I know, Mom.” She kept her gaze on Brooks’s back as he placed her go-bag on the bed.
One king-sized bed.
That meant they’d share it, or one of them would take the tattered brown armchair by the window. Her mom’s voice droned in her ears. Cam closed her eyes as frustration mounted at her lips. She couldn’t blame her mom for going off the deep end, but her frantic demands weren’t helping the situation. “Mom, slow down.”
Linda let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry, honey. It scared the life out of me. The police are looking for you and, well, could that mean Isaac is behind this? There can’t be any truth to this wild story.”
Cam winced. The story held a tad more truth than she cared to admit.
“Cam?”
“Uh, well, no, not really.”
“Not really?” Her mom’s voice hit an earsplitting note. “What does that mean? When we spoke yesterday you were heading to your second shift at work and everything was fine.”
Cam massaged the space between her eyes that had started to throb. “There’s a lot I can’t say, Mom. I don’t want to endanger you. But the facility was doing something awful with a patient and I couldn’t let them continue.”
Silence crackled through the phone as abrupt and catastrophic as a missile.
“Oh, heavens,” her mom whispered. “What have you done? We were supposed to stay under the radar—just for a while, you said. He knows from the news you were in Utah. He’ll find you now.”
“Mama, he won’t find me. I promise. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.” She disconnected, cutting off the blast of her mom’s voice. She lifted her chin and her heart stopped and restarted.
Brooks stood at the foot of the bed, his brows drawn into a scowl so deep it looked as if there were a bike trail across his forehead. “Who won’t find you?” The question rolled out on a growl. Every line of his body was still. Only his chest moved as he inhaled and exhaled. Rapidly. The sinewy muscles in his forearms, defined and large, stretched the sleeves of his T-shirt. He looked ready to rip apart the walls.
A lump pressed against the base of her throat, gluing her tongue to the floor of her mouth. She forced a breath into her lungs. “No one.”
He crossed the short distance between them, moving as if he were a G.I. Joe with a hand grenade. “You’re lying.”
She swung her gaze away from his burning eyes and twisted her hands at her midsection. “We all have a story. Mine’s long and I don’t know where to start. Nor do I want to talk about it right now.”
“Tough,” he barked.
She drew her head back. The word as sharp as a slap.
“They said on the news that your name is Camryn Bayfield but you’re using the last name Royce. Start explaining there.”
Part of her wanted to scream and storm outside. But now, her face was known to everyone who’d watched the news. She couldn’t just walk around freely. She couldn’t be mad at Brooks, but dang it, she liked to do things on her terms. Not be told what to do. She searched Brooks’s pained gaze. He had so much aggression inside of him, had felt so alone for so long. Maybe her telling him about her past would help him feel more connected to someone.
“Okay,” she said, gesturing at the bed. She sidled around the thick wall of his body and dropped onto the mattress. He turned to face her then slowly took one heavy step after another until lowering himself on the mattress as if he were afraid it’d crack beneath his weight.
Jutting her tongue over her dry lips, the ball of anxiety that had been waiting in the wings of her subconscious since Isaac attacked her and her mom making itself known. “That night you were battling your withdrawal symptoms, you asked me to talk about anything.”
A weird sensation overtook her senses. Brooks’s being agitated should have sent her into a tailspin of fear—she knew what he was capable of, and about the anger he held on a tight leash. Yet the only thing she was worried about was him judging her.
“You talked about your sister a bit.” The words came out steady. “And a nephew. I forget after that.”
“My nephew, Isaac, has a drug problem. He’s a cop but was put on probation after he got caught stealing opioids in a drug bust.” She rolled her lips together then tentatively lifted her lashes to take in his reaction.
Some of the tension had left Brooks’s body, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. “And he’s looking for you?”
She brought her gaze to the ceiling. “I’m ashamed to say this, but until you know what my mom and I went through after my sister died, you wouldn’t understand.” The shield she kept around her heart cracked, and grief poured out. God, she couldn’t think about Stacey without getting choked up. “My sister, Stacey, died in a car accident. She was thirty-six at the time and Isaac was twenty and already a handful. He didn’t take her death well and began using drugs. Mom and I got him help. We went to AA meetings, and she used every penny of her retirement money to send him to the best rehab center. He was clean for a while and then started using again.”
“How old is he now?”
“Twenty-five.” She looked down at her hands, which were on her lap, but her lips moved into a nervous smile. “I was four when Stacey had Isaac. So he and I grew up close. You’d think there was a bigger age gap between the two of us. He was always so immature and irresponsible.” The rest of Isaac’s story weighed heavy on her tongue, but she couldn’t tell Brooks any half-truths. “We hoped that after he passed the police academy training, he’d want to be better. But it was almost like that bit of success unraveled him. A few months ago, the Detroit precinct made a big drug bust. I overheard Isaac boasting to a friend on the phone that he’d been the one who’d found the drugs during the search.” She finally flicked her eyes up to meet his stare. The groove in his forehead had diminished, and his shoulders had softened.
“He said he made out with some pills. He was living with my mom at the time. I reported him.”
Brooks hiked one eyebrow up. “I’ll be damned.”
She chuckled derisively. “I failed him.” Tears filled her eyes, clogging her throat, but she forced her lids not to blink. If she let the tears fall, she wouldn’t be able to stop them.
“No you didn’t.” His hand went to her back.
She sniffed and swiped the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “Someone must have leaked the tip to him because he attacked my mom before the police came to bring him in, thinking the tip had come from her.”
“Was she okay?”
“I—I walked in on him strangling her.” A gasp broke up the words as the fierce memory stormed through her mind, making her relive the second-most-painful moment of her life. The first was when she’d learned Stacey had died. “I came at him with a knife and he tackled me.” She reached for the neckline of her top and pulled down the material, exposing the scar that lay beneath her collarbone.
He reached out and stroked the still-uneven skin with his thumb. “That piece of shit.” The embers of his eyes burned.
“He tried to cut my throat. One of the neighbors had heard my mom’s screams and rushed in and got him off of me.” She sucked back a sob. “It’s my fault. I never should have—”
Brooks caught the back of her head and pulled her face to his throat. His free hand swept around her waist to lift her into his lap. He cradled her against his chest, one arm looped around her hips, the other hand moving gently up and down her spine.
“Shh,” he said, holding her close.
The smell of pine soap and his musky male scent enveloped her. She let her cheek rest on his shoulder, her nose buried against the whiskers at his throat. She should put the brakes on this. Should pull away. But god help her, she couldn’t turn away the affection. Not just for her sake, but his as well. The steady pumping of his heart echoed in her eardrum, a quick but even rhythm. His warmth was so encompassing that it penetrated both of their clothes.
Her breasts pressed against the hard rigids of his chest muscles. She wiggled closer and her crotch rubbed against his. A shock wave vibrated through her folds, making her body burn with need.
His hand stilled and the length of his cock grew between them. Her mouth went dry. He brought his fingers to her hair and stroked. Brooks’s distant voice reached her ears. Her brain tried to grasp his words, but they floated past, her desire too great to catch them.
“Cam?”
She swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Are you worried Isaac will find you?” The question slowed the blood pumping through her skull.
“He’s made numerous threats over the last year and a half. He lost his job, has a criminal record now, and blames me for that.” Her voice squeaked on the explanation. Darn her rattled nerves. Normally she could put up a good front, but not with all this manliness touching places that hadn’t been touched in far too long.
He pulled away and placed his hands on either side of her face. “He won’t come near you. I can fucking promise you that.” The determined set of his jaw affirmed the ferocious promise he spoke.
She lifted her fingers and touched the back of his hand. “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s my mom. He’d go after her just to punish me.”
Brooks knitted his brows together. “Where is she?”
“Arizona. We split up so it would be harder for him to find us—well, my plan was so it would be harder for him to find her.”
“Isn’t he in jail?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “He was for eighteen months. Just got out two weeks ago, which is when we left Detroit.”
He cursed then set her on the bed and stood. He paced the worn floor between the bed and the door. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”
She got to her feet and stepped in his path. He swung his eyes to her face. Streaks of red covered his cheekbones.
Bringing her toes in front of his, she planted her palms on his chest. “I’m glad you did.” Without another thought, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. The air in the room crackled. Electricity arched between their bodies. His hands went to her back and lifted her shirt slightly, so he could stroke the skin above her pants. A thrill raced over her.
Never before had she made the first move with a guy. With Brooks, she couldn’t help it.
I must be insane.
His fingers curled against her spine, stopping their perusal of her flesh. He pressed his forehead to hers, breaking the contact of her lips. His warm, heady flavor lingered on her taste buds.
“We should eat.”
She cleared her throat and pressed the back of her hand to her lips. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. She’d kissed Brooks and he wanted her to stop. What was the matter with her? Was she so desperate for affection that she’d misread him? Goodness, he’d been tortured for the greater part of a year. What had she expected?
More importantly, what had she wanted? As hot and horny as she was right now, that was no excuse to get entangled with Brooks in an irrevocable way. She sure as heck wasn’t emotionally stable enough for causal sex.
She lowered her hand and smiled. “Yeah, me too.” Closing her eyes on an exasperated breath, she covered them with her hand. A blush of embarrassment stung her skin. “I mean, good idea. Sorry. I’m just—”
He caught her elbow, bringing her arm down. “Don’t be sorry. I just—I don’t want to hurt you. Okay?” Tension held his mouth in a pucker. His fingers vibrated against her skin. He wanted her, too.
But he was scared. Of himself.
Why did that turn her on even more? She needed serious help. “Okay,” she said on a breath.
He stalked to the door and shoved his feet in his shoes. “I’ll grab food. It’s best we keep your face hidden. Any preferences?”
She shook her head.
“I’ve got change from the money we used for the room. I’ll use that. Be right back.” He opened the door then paused. “Lock this behind me.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. Nausea threatened to spill the few cookies she clung to. The door shut, and she snapped the lock into place then dropped into the chair.
Her hormones were jonesing for Brooks, and she had to put a dead freaking stop to it.
***
Christ, he’d fuckedup. Brooks shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. The chilly wind lifted the ends of his hair, reminding him that he badly needed a haircut. Rather than get in the car and drive to find food, he strode down the road to a sandwich joint he’d spotted earlier. He needed the walk.
Cam had kissed him. He didn’t remember his past relationships, but he knew for certain that when a woman took that kind of initiative, she wanted him. And he’d offered her food instead. He let out a frustrated snort and kicked a stone over the pavement. Goddammit, he hated not knowing who he was. He knew who’d hurt him. He knew he had a sister, and a past—but it was so murky he couldn’t even trust the visions that glitched through his mind like broken movie clips.
Being forced to take a drug that had altered his reactions, made him angry, and given him immense physical strength and endurance had made him distrust himself. For so long, he hadn’t been in control of his own body.
He’d been without the drug for thirty-six hours, but was it out of his system? He didn’t want to test it on Cam to find out.
I won’t hurt her.
Even the idea of doing anything to cause her harm made the tendons in his hands bunch. He’d hurt himself before he hurt her.
Inside the restaurant, he headed to the deli area and quickly ordered two large sandwiches, hoping she’d like the toppings he’d picked.
No doubt Cam will be too scared to sleep with me now. It would suck sleeping without her warm, curvy body next to his. He walked back to the motel and shook off the thought. It didn’t matter. He needed to get sex off his brain until all this shit was over. He sure as hell didn’t need any more distractions. Just having Cam around made it hard for him to think straight, with his cock ready to explode.
When he finally got under the sheets with Cam, he wouldn’t leave for a long-ass time.
Brooks walked into the room and locked the door behind him. Shaking his feet out of his boots, he brought his attention to the closed bathroom door. The pattering of water reached his ears, alerting him to the fact that she was in the shower.
Wet.
Naked.
His dick hardened even more. The base of his cock throbbed. He needed release like he’d never needed it in his life. Not only could he not remember the last time he’d gotten off, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex.
Which was a fucking travesty.
He exhaled through his nose and adjusted his pants, which had grown three sizes too small in the crotch area. He’d have to relieve himself in the shower or something. There was no way he could continue to walk around with a loaded gun. He opened the paper bags and pulled out their sandwiches then went to the bathroom door. She probably hadn’t heard him come in.
Stopping at the wood to listen, he lifted his knuckles.
“Ah.” Cam’s sharp, barely audible cry reached his ears.
Holy fucking shit. His palms grew damp. She’d just pleasured herself in the shower because he hadn’t had the balls to. He dropped his forehead to the wooden door.
He was going to need a lot more than a shower to get that image out of his head.