Chapter 25
Cam sat numbly on the back of the truck while the cops interviewed the guys. Cole had approached them in the woods, but when she and Brooks reached the road, she’d looked back and Cole was gone.
Police scurried around the scene. The woods were alive with flashlights and the calls of radios and voices. A buzz of life so intrusive in what should be a tranquil setting. She watched as the ambulances’ doors were closed, her mom in one and the wounded guard in the other. After Cam had left her mom, Linda had passed police on her way back and turned around to return to the tent. Thankfully, because Cam would have been sick with worry at the thought of her mom driving all that way after the trauma she’d endured.
Black body bags were carried out of the tent and woods, one after the other. She closed her eyes as one in particular passed her. The direction the paramedics had come from indicated the thick plastic held Leonetti. A hand settled on her shoulder. She jerked up her head and found Brooks. Without waiting for his invitation, she dove against the wall of his chest. She’d been checked over by the paramedics, given her statement, and now all she wanted was to get far away from the density of the action.
He tipped up her chin and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “That bastard. I’d kill him again just for hitting you.”
She kissed his knuckles. “I’m fine. What did they say?” she whispered faintly. There was a lot at stake, and she’d been scared shitless she’d slip up and say the wrong thing, getting one of the brothers in trouble or worse, offering a clue that Cole had been around.
“There’s nothing to worry about for now. I told them they could test my blood for the drug, and it will correlate with everything Leonetti was working on—now that they have access to the files he’s left behind,” he said, nodding at the tent.
“I told them I have a syringe of Axalantheum. They can use that in their investigation, too.”
He gave one nod. “Good.”
“And your leg?” She turned her attention to the bloodstain on his jeans.
“It’s fine. Just a graze, which they bandaged up after checking my vitals. They want me to go to the hospital for observation, but no fucking way.”
Cam grimaced. She couldn’t blame Brooks for refusing to go to the hospital, but she’d have to keep a close eye on him.
“For now, we’re free to go, but I suspect we’ll be called in for more questioning.” His hand smoothed back her hair, and she pulled the wool blanket a paramedic had given her tighter around her shoulders. “When Dare and Nash are done giving their statements, we can go. How’s your mom?”
Curling her fingers around Brooks’s waist, her face contorted with sadness. “They said they’d likely keep her for a night or two. She has a concussion from when one of the guards hit her.” Cam swallowed over the anger that threatened to trap the words in her throat. “They said they’ll know more once tests are run.”
“You should be with her.”
“Maybe you guys can drop me off at the hospital?”
Brooks smiled. “Of course. And your feet?”
She curled her bare toes inside her mom’s shoes. “They’re fine.” She looked at her ankle and surveyed the neat bandages.
He pulled her into his side. The air stirred with his breath and unspoken words. Instinct told her he was struggling to stay in one spot. His body needed to expel the drug’s energy. She lifted her hand to his heart, and its rapid beating made her cringe. “You need to release some of that adrenaline.”
He snorted. “Can’t exactly run it off right now.”
Dare approached. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, shall we?”
Cam nodded. Brooks swept one arm under her knee and the other around her back and carried her to the truck. Dare opened the back door for them. Brooks slid her inside then climbed in next to her. Nash got in the driver’s seat and Dare took the front passenger’s seat.
Cam squished her side against Brooks, and he wrapped his arms around her. Nash pulled onto the main road, checking the rearview mirror. “Why do I feel like we just dodged a bullet?”
Brooks gazed through the window. “A lot of things played in our favor. The fact that Leonetti had no permit to work or set up shop on this land helped.”
“Not to mention Lexi’s connections,” Nash said. “One of the detectives told me she filled them in on everything Leonetti’s done and reported Cam’s kidnapping.”
Cam leaned forward. “Should be an open-and-shut case then?”
Brooks winced.
Nash scoffed. “Not likely. While Lexi has great contacts, too many detectives are fixated on Cole. They’ll want to tie anything they can to him.”
“Why?” Cam asked.
Silence filled the truck. “It’s best we don’t go into those details,” Nash finally said. “Let’s be grateful the cops were able to discern the truth here, and not hold our breath.”
Half an hour later, they entered the city limits. Fatigue clung to Cam’s limbs, but she forced her eyes to stay open. Brooks’s legs hadn’t stopped bouncing the whole trip. Lifting her gaze to take in his features, the lights from the streetlamps now catching more of his face, she assessed him. His skin had taken on a gray tone, and the whites of his eyes appeared red, even in the dim lighting. His skin burned as though a raging fever brewed inside him.
“We need to drop Cam off at the hospital,” Brooks said to Nash, his voice haggard.
She didn’t want to leave Brooks, but she had to see her mom. “I’ll have to stop at the house first. I need to get shoes so I can leave these ones with my mom. I can drive myself there after.” At least she could get Brooks settled and check him out before she left.
“I’ll come,” Brooks said. His tone indicated it was the last thing he wanted to do, but she wasn’t going to talk him out of it. Getting him close to medical professionals was the best option.
She placed her palm on his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He caught her wrist and gave a curt nod, keeping his attention on the window. Her stomach flipped over. He’d survived the drug numerous times, but if Leonetti had upped the dosage, like he said, Brooks could be in danger.
She caught Nash’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His brow was creased with concern. Brooks didn’t need to be hounded by everyone, but something wasn’t right. Weighty fear burrowed into her gut.
Nash pulled into the driveway of his safe house. “Keep us posted.” He met Cam’s gaze in the mirror again, signaling her to update him on Brooks’s health.
She wrapped her arm around her abdomen, trying to stave off the sickening sensation. Brooks hopped out, held out his hand for Cam, then once again swung her into his arms.
“I can walk.” Her cheeks warmed under Dare’s and Nash’s gazes, but at this point she’d already been toted around so much that a few more steps didn’t matter.
“It’s good for me to exert myself.” He nodded at the brothers then made his way to the front door. Setting her on her feet, he inserted the key in the lock. She preceded him inside.
Brooks kicked off his shoes and strode to the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and quick. Cam followed him, but now that she was running low on adrenaline, pain consumed her every step. She needed a hot soak, but that would have to wait until she got back from seeing her mom. Brooks paced along the island. A sheen of sweat coated his skin.
The pit of nausea in Cam’s stomach expanded. “You should have gone in the ambulance.” She searched the counters. Her heart sank. Shoot, Leonetti had taken her phone.
Brooks rubbed his fingers under his collarbone. “I’m fine.”
His skin was now green. Her breath constricted in her throat. She turned and ran upstairs, ignoring the protests of her feet. If she didn’t hurry, he’d likely go into cardiac arrest. And his stubborn ass probably wouldn’t let her help. Dropping to her knees in the bedroom, she dug into her duffel bag and pulled out her nurse’s bag. She grabbed her stethoscope, hooked it around her neck, and threaded her arm through the bag’s loops. There wasn’t much her equipment would do. He needed a hospital. But she sure as hell couldn’t blame him for resisting.
She lunged down the stairs as quickly as she could and found Brooks in the kitchen with his hands splayed on the counter. She raced forward and caught his bicep. He shook off her hold.
“No, don’t touch me. Please.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
Fear chomped through her spine. “Dammit, Brooks,” she said, summoning her sternest nurse’s voice. “Look at me now or I’m calling an ambulance.” She caught his jaw.
His eyes sparked at her, but sadness clouded his irises. “Please, babe. I’d rather my heart fucking explode than hurt you.”
Tears swarmed her eyes. She ran a hand down his bicep. “You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”
He shook his head, the action more violent than necessary. “I can’t contain it anymore—the drug. It’s too strong. My body can’t keep up.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to hurt anyone.” She inched closer and lifted his shirt, placing the stethoscope’s diaphragm to his chest. Searing heat radiated off his skin. He needed to cool down. It wasn’t hard to find his heartbeat. The organ thumped against the wall of his chest. Strong, but fast. Too darn fast. Jeez Louise. She pulled out her blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around his bicep then pushed him around the island toward a chair.
He planted his feet. “Can’t sit.” His eyes closed, as if speaking took too much effort.
“You need to tell me your symptoms. What’s happening?”
“Head hurts. It’s pounding.” He brought his hand to his throat and scratched. “Skin’s itchy and my—my vision is blurry.”
She pumped the cuff and watched it tighten on his skin. The needle jumped, and her stomach plummeted. “If I don’t get you to a hospital you’re going to die,” she said, trying to keep the terror she felt out of her voice, to employ the stoic nursing nerves she’d had for years. But she couldn’t.
“No!” He yanked the cuff off and threw it across the room. “They’ll test me and keep me isolated like a fucking animal. Once they know what I’m capable of, they’ll use me.”
She shook her head, and tears leaked out of her eyes. Calling an ambulance would be an act of betrayal, but if she didn’t, he’d have a heart attack or a stroke. Then again, if she went against his wishes, he’d kill the paramedics, or go on a full-blown murdering spree in the hospital. He wouldn’t be able to contain himself. She needed his permission. She caught his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “I promise that won’t happen.”
He grabbed her elbows, and a streak of anger flashed in his eyes. If he wanted to, he could throw her as easily as he’d thrown the blood pressure cuff. But he didn’t.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said, through a sharp gasp. “Please. Let me call. I won’t leave your side.”
His face twisted in pain. He clutched his chest and keeled forward. His weight fell into her arms, but she couldn’t break his fall, could only slow it so he didn’t hit his head on the floor. He grabbed her hand, and tears budded at the corners of his eyes. “It hurts, babe.”
Pain ripped through her insides. “Brooks, please. I love you,” she sobbed, dipping her face to his cheek, her hands gripping his knuckles against her chest.
“C-Call.” His arm went limp, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
She let out a cry, deep and ravaging, as she tore her attention from him and ran to find a phone.
I’m too late.
***
Bright lights penetratedBrooks’s eyelids. He blinked and a glare filtered in, sparking a deep throbbing sensation between his eyes. Closing them tightly, he focused on the sounds around him: a constant beep that made him think of a woodpecker on crack, call bells ringing from a distance, and the odd voice fading in and out.
“Brooks? Oh my god, you’re awake.” Cam. He’d recognize her sweet sound anywhere. She clasped his fingers, and her other palm flattened on his cheek. “Can you look at me? Are you in pain?”
The frantic firing of questions sure as shit hurt his head, but he didn’t say that. Opening his eyes a sliver, he smiled. “What the hell am I doing in a hospital?”
Keeping his eyes open took more strength than he cared to admit. An image of falling to the floor flashed through his head—he’d told Cam to call an ambulance. Jesus. The doctors would want to dissect him like a frog.
Her comforting hand moved up and down his chest. “The good news is you’re okay. You had a mild heart attack. Thankfully, your heart and everything else looks good, and they’ve kept you stable even though the drug had your blood pressure through the roof.”
Huh. So he hadn’t died even with a 30-percent increase in dosage. That wasn’t information he wanted to get out, but it said a lot about his stamina. “I’m free to go then?”
“You haven’t gotten the green light yet,” she said with a smirk.
Too bad she didn’t realize that nothing short of another heart attack would keep him in place. “I can sign myself out.”
Cam squirmed. “Personally, I’d feel better if you waited for the doctor to discharge you.”
He made a face. “If I haven’t died yet, I’m probably good.” He pushed himself into a sitting position. His head swam, and he grabbed the railing of the bed.
She rushed forward and adjusted the bed so he could sit but still lean back for support. “Don’t push yourself.” The scolding tone irked him, but it wasn’t her fault he was here.
He caught her wrist. “I’m sorry.”
Her lips fell open, and her green eyes, bright in contrast to her pale skin, blinked. “Why?”
“For scaring you. For not trusting you to help me.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her movements delicate. Shit, she was sore too. They’d both been through the ringer, but Cam had injured her feet, lost her nephew. Plus, her mom was in the hospital, and on top of that, judging by the bright sunlight shining through the windows, she probably hadn’t slept a wink. Fresh anger struck him as he took in the purple bruise across her cheek.
“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay. You scared the crap out of me.”
He reached up and caressed his thumb around her smooth cheek. “How’s your mom?”
She sighed. “I’ve been back and forth from her room to yours, but she’s doing well.”
“Good. What else did I miss?”
“Well, Lexi was here all night and just went home to shower. Dare swung by, and C—”
A knock sounded. Brooks snapped his attention to the door, making his neck ache. A woman in a pressed white dress shirt and navy-blue skirt that clung to her shapely frame walked in. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a smooth ponytail. Her posture and the authoritative hike to her chin screamed cop.
Brooks glared. “Who—”
Cam pulled his hand away from her face and gave his fingers a tight squeeze in warning. “This is Detective Aldridge. I think she has some questions.”
Brooks scrutinized her up and down. The skin around her eyes creased with concern, but the sharpness in her honey-colored irises warned him she’d be ruthless with her inquisition. Fuck it. As much as he hated to talk about his confinement, he had nothing to lose anymore.
“May I?”
He gestured to the chair closest to the door. She smiled stiffly and sat on the edge of the cheap plastic, a notebook and pen in hand. “I’m comparing notes with your statement from last night. You mentioned you were held against your will for... how long?”
Memories of his journalism days slipped into his mind. This was what he hated about cops. Using anything they could to get you to trip up. In case they tried to tie him to Conrad’s death, it would be best to be vague about any details surrounding his imprisonment. “Dr. Leonetti had me for over a month, and before that I don’t remember.”
“Hmm. But your friend”—she shifted her gaze to Cam—“mentioned you were held for almost a year.”
“That’s correct. But the drug fucks with my memory. I only remember being knocked out the night my parents’ house went up in flames, and flashes of moments from before being taken to Leonetti.” The memory struck him again, making his aching head throb more.
“Ah, I see.” Detective Aldridge clicked her pen, and the constant sound tapped against his last nerve. “Who took you in the first place?”
He forced a mouthful of saliva down his throat. Pointing the finger at his enslaver, Conrad, would only give Brooks a motive for Conrad’s death. “Like I said, I don’t remember. I never saw the guy who hit me.” Playing with the truth the best he could, he kept his focus on the detective’s face.
“I’m sure that must be very difficult for you.” Her tone lacked sympathy. She flicked through the notebook. “A few more questions if you’re up for it?”
“Shoot.”
She settled the pad on her lap, her thumb stuck in the pages. Her gaze zeroed in on his face, searching every contour and waiting for a reaction. “Does the name Conrad Hornick mean anything to you?”
Brooks’s hand twitched on his lap, but he kept the muscles in his face passive. Pulling his lips into a frown, he gave one shake of his head. “Nope.”
She tapped her fingernail on her knee. “You’re sure about that? Even an old family friend or acquaintance...”
Ah, shit. She’d know Conrad was friends with his dad. Surely she would have done her background work before questioning him and would know he’d worked for Lionsgate too. “Look, with all due respect, I didn’t remember my own sister until the other day. I can’t even picture my parents.”
Her puckered face smoothed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put any pressure on you. If something comes to mind, please give me a call.” She slid her card onto the table near the bed, but he didn’t reach for it. As soon as she left, it was going in the trash.
The detective rose, nodded, and turned on her stilettoed heel. Then she froze and spun back around. “One more thing.” She swung her gaze to Cam then back to his face. “How many people were with you last night?”
He lifted a shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Nash was with you, right? Camryn as well.” She gestured to Cam, who was imprinting his palm with her fingernails. Cam’s nervousness made him want to reassure her, but he had to hold his poker face until the detective left.
“That’s correct.”
“And Nash’s brothers?”
“One brother. Dare.”
Her eyes darkened. “The wounded guard and Linda, Camryn’s mother, noted another gentleman with your clan.” She flipped open the notepad to the spot her thumb had marked. It was clear she’d been waiting for this moment the entire time.
Conniving.
Or just smart as a whip.
He cocked his head to the side. “Sorry. I don’t remember there being anyone else. There were a few guards. Perhaps Linda is confused.”
Detective Aldridge chewed the corner of her lip. Her thick lashes concealed her irises as she lowered her focus to the floor. “You know, Brooks.” She stepped closer. Her leg brushed the side of the bed. “The Holmes family has a lot of skeletons in their closet. While I’m grateful for your sake that the brothers were there, we have a lot of legalities to go over. Several of Leonetti’s men were murdered, and while that was clearly in Linda’s, Camryn’s, and your defense, we’re running into dead ends.” The detective’s tone carried a hint of warning.
“Such as?” Brooks adjusted himself in the hospital bed. No doubt the detective found him easier to manipulate when he was lower than she was.
“No one is owning up to the killings—”
He bore his gaze into hers, challenging her to do her worst. “I killed Leonetti.”
“We know that. You included that in your statement, and considering you were under the influence of drugs against your will and likely would have been murdered, that’s clearly self-defense.”
“I probably killed the rest of the men and blacked out. That happens. Sorry.” He worked his jaw. He’d rather get nailed for every guard’s death than have Nash, Dare, and Cole under the spotlight. After all, they’d been there to aid him.
She sighed. “And the other man who was mentioned?”
He shrugged. “No recollection.”
“Well, I hope you’re telling the truth. Cole Holmes is a very dangerous man. If you see him, it would be in your best interest to notify me.” She glided to the door, her heels clicking on the way out.
Cam shimmied closer to him on the bed. “They want Cole badly.”
He snorted. “No shit.”
Despite the detective’s pit-bull-like grip on Cole, by the sounds of it they had very little to connect Brooks or the brothers to Conrad’s murder. He brought his attention back to Cam and caught her cheek in his palm. “You okay?”
She chuckled. “You already asked me that.”
“But are you, really?”
Her eyes lowered to the sheet over his middle, and she smoothed one of the wrinkles with her fingers. She lifted her lashes, and the ocean-green depths of her orbs slammed into him. The sunlight filling the room caught her pale-blonde hair and smooth complexion. Her mascara was smudged under her eyes and her eyeshadow was long gone, but her natural beauty stopped his damn heart, the pain in his chest familiar to what he’d endured last night.
“I am now that you’re awake. It was touch-and-go all night.” She grabbed his wrist and kissed his palm.
He pulled her close, bringing his lips to hers. Her body trembled against his, and the air in the room changed. He kissed her cheek then connected his forehead to hers. “I love you, Camryn Royce, Bayfield, or whatever the hell your name is.”
She let out a loose laugh, and tears hovered at her lashes. She swatted his chest, but he caught her hand. “I mean it.”
“You’re just saying that to me because I said it in a moment of desperation last night.”
He swirled his thumb around the inside of her palm and watched her pupils dilate with attraction. “That so?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I meant it.”
He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I know you did. And I love you, Cam. Thank you for being there for me—for saving me.”
She threw her arms around his neck, and he buried his face into the comfort of her lavender scent, pushing away the pungent hospital smells. He’d been given a second chance. The long-term effects of Axalantheum were still unknown, but one thing was for sure: he’d spend every moment of his life loving Cam.