Chapter 8 #2
Cameron gets dressed, then pushes his hair back and sets a baseball cap over it.
He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment.
I can’t quite make out his expression, but he clenches his fists tightly before reaching into his pocket and bringing out a pill bottle.
Dread overcomes me as he shakes the bottle into his hand and takes a handful of pills, many more than he had before, and swallows them before letting his head hang.
Guilt threads its way into my stomach at watching him in such a vulnerable state. But the feeling vanishes just as quickly as it comes when Cameron straightens and walks toward the bathroom door. Oh shit.
I quickly move a few feet away and duck down as close to the ground as I can.
He walks right past me and toward the barracks exit.
I wait until he’s halfway there before I start tailing him.
There’s no way he’ll see me this far away in the dark.
The only indication of his whereabouts is the soft, echoing sound of his combat boots against the cement.
It takes me more than ten minutes to figure out where he went, but I eventually make my way to the weapons room. I almost let out a scream when I see someone standing at the glass, staring inside the room.
“Cadet Maves, what are you doing up?” The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. I only know for certain that it’s not Adams.
“I was following Mori,” I admit sheepishly. How does he know my name? He must be one of the guards down here.
A small chuckle. “Well, come see for yourself. I knew it’d only be a matter of time before you grew curious enough about our anomaly.”
Hesitantly, I move close enough to the officer. He lifts something, and my eyes strain to see what it is. A pair of goggles? I take them and slide them over my head.
“I’m Lieutenant Erik. The leader of the Fury Squad,” he says. Wait, the guy who gave Cameron that awful scar over his eye? I already don’t like him.
I put the night vision goggles on. They’re white phosphor ones, and it takes me a moment to adjust to the sudden visibility of everything.
The lieutenant has goggles on as well, and I can’t make out his defining features, since everything is black and white.
He looks like an average middle-aged man, perhaps in his forties. He has a similar accent to my father’s.
I shift my attention to the weapons room.
Cameron is inside training in the dark. My eyes widen as I watch him casually pick up a combat knife, listen briefly, and then throw it across the room into the shooting range dummies.
He nails them each in the throat every time, as the knife severs the carotid artery and flies clean into the wall behind.
“How—” I start, but Erik interrupts me.
“We have small clickers on the other side of the room that replicate the sole of a boot on gravel. I doubt you’ve ever heard it during the day when everyone is loud and practicing, but it goes off every thirty seconds or so to notify keen soldiers of a presence.”
My lips part. That’s terrifying, yet impressive that Cameron has the ability to fight in the dark like this. It will be good to remember while I’m in the field with him.
Wait. Does that mean he knew I was spying on him? Oh God. He probably heard my footsteps. I resist the urge to palm my forehead.
My dread and silence must carry because Erik mumbles, “You should be careful trying to uncover all his layers. Mori isn’t one for sharing who he is with others. He must like you, though, or at least not mind you, to allow you to monitor him this closely.” His words strike a chord in my heart.
Does that mean if Cameron didn’t like me that I’d be dead right now? It’s weird to hear about him through others that have known him significantly longer than I have. Sometimes it feels like they’re talking about a completely different person from the one I know.
I stand quietly beside Lieutenant Erik as we watch Cameron train by himself. He does everything on his own. It makes me wonder what he’s keeping so close to his chest. Why does he prefer to be…well, lonely.
Cameron switches to close combat, and it’s disturbing that with just the silhouette of a dummy how precise he is with his blows.
He stabs every major ligament point and artery combo—where not only would someone bleed out, but they’d lose the ability to control their limbs as well.
It’s nearly identical to the way Damian attacks.
There’s a lot I missed out on during the first portion of boot camp.
Hopefully, I can catch up, because my primary specialty lies with pistols, rifles, and postmortem arts. The latter definitely will not help me down here.
Sweat breaks out across my forehead and a surge of heat collects between my thighs as I watch Cameron’s muscles flex.
My own chest expands with each deep breath he takes between attacks.
Why does his ability to kill a person so ruthlessly arouse me so much?
I bite my lip to try and stop the sultry thoughts from running rampant. I’m so fucked-up, and I know he is too.
“He’s about done. You should head back before he finishes.
He’s usually the most unstable during and after exertion.
” Erik looks my way. It’s daunting not being able to see his eyes behind the goggles.
I wonder what he looks likes in the light.
All I can make out is his straight nose and sharp cheekbones.
A firmly pressed mouth and an oddly nostalgic voice.
“Thank you,” I say as I slip off the goggles and hand them back to him. He pauses before wordlessly taking them back.
I hurry back to the barracks, using my fingers along the wall as a guide. My eyes take a few minutes to adjust back to the darkness of the Under, and even then, it’s only faint shapes that I can make out.
I decide to shower and get ready since I’m already up. After seeing Cameron perform his murderous blows so effortlessly, I’ll need to start putting more effort into my training if I want to keep up with him.
The small light in the bathroom would’ve seemed so insufficient before my time down here, but it’s plenty compared to the complete darkness. I scrub my body and wash my hair. The cold water doesn’t bother me as much as it did the first few days. It certainly helps wake me up, though.
The slickness between my thighs can’t be ignored. It’s been at least four months since I’ve been fucked, and I don’t want to be stuck with the image of Cameron sweating and breathing heavily all day.
My fingers slide down my stomach, and I press my shoulder blades against the cold wall, letting a hiss out as I roll the pad of my finger over my clit.
Don’t picture him doing this to you. Don’t picture Cameron with his fingers inside you, I berate myself, but it does nothing.
I very much imagine him with his tattooed fingers knuckle-deep inside my pussy.
A hushed moan slips from my lips as I finger-fuck myself, picturing him flicking my clit with his tongue and rubbing my inner walls until I’m so close to coming that I—
Someone coughs.
Fuck.
I snap off the wall and swiftly finish rinsing off, desperate to get to the bench where I left my clothes.
My entire body freezes at the sight of Cameron leaning against the sink beside my things, arms crossed and his expression cold.
It’s too dark to see the color of his cheeks and whether or not he saw what I was doing, but I’m not going to pretend like he didn’t. I’m not that delusional.
My cheeks burn. I can’t even think of words to say because I’m so utterly mortified at my predicament.
Erik’s words roll through my mind. He’s most unstable during and after exertion.
My legs shift back on their own as Cameron pushes off the sink and walks steadily toward me. I’m completely vulnerable, naked, and nervous. Please, please, don’t let me be murdered in the showers right after masturbating.
Cameron’s eyes don’t leave mine, which almost feels worse than if he’d actually just look my body over like every other guy. I’m almost certain he’s not himself at the moment. The muscles in his jaw are feathered, the veins prominent in his neck.
He stops an arm’s length away and leans down until his nose is an inch from mine.
“Why did you sneak out of bed and spy on me?” His voice is gravelly, but it’s his half-lidded, intimidating eyes that make my stomach flip. My thighs are still dripping from the unspent orgasm I’d built up.
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I wanted to know what you did this early… I’m sorry.” I barely get the words out. My shoulders tremble with a mix of fear and excitement.
He studies me before lifting his hand, the same one I saw obliterate the ballistic dummies not ten minutes ago, and draws his index finger down my cheek. My arms stiffen at my sides as I prepare for him to keep his promise and end my life.
His eyes flash down to my quivering lip before meeting my frightened gaze again. He takes a deep breath and then lets out a chilling laugh.
“I didn’t think you’d be able to do it. I’m so fucking patient, but you did it.”
I tremble and stutter, “D-did what?”
“You made me angry, love,” he says with the darkest eyes I’ve ever known. His voice is sinister and coils around me. I can’t help that my thighs cling together and rub to stave off the hot slickness that’s leaking out. Do I like fear play? I don’t know. But this feels like the answer is yes.
Cameron doesn’t miss the motion of my needy legs. His eyes dart down and he takes me in before they widen, and his jaw sets like he wants to tear me to pieces.
“Get the fuck out,” he finally says before straightening and forcing his body past me toward a showerhead.
My body feels frozen to the spot, but I force myself to walk to the sink and gather my clothes. The shower turns on behind me, and I hear him toss his clothes to the middle of the floor. I pull my hoodie on and slip into my underwear.
I need to get the fuck out of here while I still—
A loud thud reverberates through the room. I whirl, eyes wide and heart hammering, fully expecting Cameron to attack me. But when I don’t see his tall stature, I look down and find him collapsed on the ground in the stream of water.
It’s dim in here, but his blood is apparent against the white tiles. There’s so much of it that I forget myself, and him, and who we are, where we are.
He’s hurt.
I quickly close the distance between us and kneel beside him. His arm is braced against the ground as he struggles to pick himself back up.
“Cameron!” I try to keep my voice down, but it comes out louder than a whisper. The last thing we need is for someone to wake up and take advantage of us while our guard is down. My clothes are instantly soaked from the running water.
“I’m fine.” He coughs and more blood sputters out of his mouth. There’s so much of it. Panic starts to set into my bones. “I don’t feel any of it,” he mutters, teeth gritting together as he tries to continue glaring at me.
“You’re not fine.” I wrap an arm around his torso and carefully flip him so he’s not facing the tile anymore. The cold water from the shower still pelts down on us, but wearing a soaked hoodie is the last of my concerns right now.
I slowly guide him until his spine is pressed against the wall for stability. He rests his head back and coughs again.
“I’m not in pain,” he says and then chuckles grimly. His sage eyes are barely open. I can’t focus on the way they soften when he looks at me or I’ll lose my mind.
“You’re fucking delusional, Cameron. Just because you’re not in pain doesn’t mean you’re invincible.” I bite back the words I really want to say. You are hurting. You just won’t acknowledge it.
The blood won’t stop running from his nose and the corners of his lips. It makes my heart ache to see him this way. To see another human being who cares so little about himself. I don’t know how to stop the bleeding when it’s coming from inside.
I push my fear of him to the side and reach up with my sleeve to pinch his nose. We need to get a clot forming, that’s all I can think to do. Astonishment flashes across his eyes at the gesture. With my hand still on his nose, I reach up and turn off the shower.
The cold water stops, and it’s as if a hush falls over us. I listen for any footsteps that would indicate that someone is awake.
“Don’t worry, no one’s coming,” Cameron mumbles, sounding a little nasally because I’m pinching his nose.
His brows knit together and he looks away from me.
His wet hair is pressed to his forehead.
He’s completely soaked. With water dotting his lashes, his eyes flick up to gaze into my soul. “How long are you going to do this?”
I didn’t realize how ragged my breaths were until now, and my heart is still racing from the adrenaline. “Until you…stop bleeding.” I take a deep breath and force my legs to relax against the cold floor on either side of his hips.
We sit like this for a few minutes before I release his nose to see if it worked. Only a few trickles leak out. I wipe them away with my drenched sleeve and let out a breath of relief when no more blood comes out.
Cameron has both his palms against the ground, and the veins in his hands are bulging. He’s avoiding eye contact with me as much as I am with him.
“There, I think that should do it.” I offer him a weak smile, pressing my cold fingers against his cheek and hoping he won’t have another episode of whatever the fuck that was.
My guess would be that the black blood is another side effect of the death pills.
How long does he have left until it kills him?
Don’t go there.
He finally drags his eyes to mine. Something different flickers there I haven’t seen before. A wanton lull to his expression. That’s when I see the flush in his cheeks.
I become hyperaware of my body. And his naked body. And the fact that I’m sitting in his lap in nothing but soaked underwear and a hoodie.