Chapter Twenty-Three
Camille
The headlights dipped into our familiar driveway, relief washing over me as the truck finally came to a stop. Trenton stepped out, rounding the hood without a word until he opened the passenger door, reaching beneath me.
“All right, my love, let’s get you and our little strawberry-sized mischief-maker all cozy and crash-proof in bed, safe and sound,” he said, pausing when I stopped him.
I didn’t want to be carried inside like a bird with a broken wing, but even the idea of standing on my own two feet made the edges of my vision blur. Before I had time to argue, he scooped me into his arms and carried me toward the front door.
“I’m not made of glass,” I whispered, the words barely slipping past my lips. As much as I appreciated his care, his hands soft and steady around me, a small part of me bristled against it. I was tired, yes—exhausted, actually—but needing help meant something was wrong, and my mind needed to fight those thoughts. Trenton’s every tender touch, every worried glance reminded me just how fragile our situation was.
He smirked. “This is my chance to carry you across the threshold sober. Don’t ruin my moment.”
I let myself melt into him as he carried me inside, across the living room, and down the hall to our bedroom. He laid me down on the bed with a tenderness only a woman who’d been loved by a Maddox boy would believe, the mattress dipping slightly when he sat next to me.
“Rest, babe,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss my forehead. His hands gently tucked the comforter around my every edge.
“You were brave today,” I said.
He scoffed, shook his head, and let it hang in shame. “I was terrified. And ashamed. Pretty sure my ass decorated my skivvies.”
“ Ashamed ? What on earth would you have to be ashamed of?”
He waited several beats before he spoke, opening his mouth, pausing to gather himself, then trying again. “Losing my temper, stressing you out, and then at the hospital…”
He held his breath, tears threatening to roll.
I reached for his forearm. “What?”
“I realized that I might lose you both and… don’t hate me… but…” He growled, looked up, and wiped his eyes before taking a breath and trying again. “I can’t lose you, and I questioned—for a millisecond—if a baby was worth the risk. Now that you’re both okay, I just feel like a piece of shit for thinking it.”
“You’re not,” I reassured softly. “You think you’re the first husband who’s ever felt that way?”
He shrugged, wiping his eyes again. His gaze met mine and he offered a weak grin. “Just don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“Okay,” I said with a smile.
His phone chirped, and he looked down, the screen illuminating the redness around his weary eyes. He sighed. “They’re here. They wanna talk.”
“Thomas and Travis?”
“And Liis,” he said, standing. “I’ll bring you back an ice water. Need anything else? You hungry?”
I shook my head.
He pointed at me. “Don’t move, sugar britches. I’ll be back to cuddle you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
He kissed his fingers and held them out to me, and then disappeared into the living room. “Well, hello, my favorite group of two-faced truth hoarders. Did you come by to present me with the award for Least Trusted Family Member, or were you just hoping to practice your guilty stares in my general direction?”
Thomas, Travis, and Liis tried to keep their voices at a hushed pitch, but their words slipped through the walls, and even more easily through the door Trenton had left slightly ajar.
“The more people who know, the more dangerous this gets,” Thomas insisted. “For everyone.”
“More dangerous than what happened today?” Trenton seethed.
“Yes, actually, a lot more,” Thomas shot back.
Travis interjected, “The worst-case scenario would make today look like a tea party with Grammy. Staking out your shop from afar is just polite chit-chat over cookies compared to the five-alarm dumpster fire going on behind the scenes.”
Trenton let out a dark, bitter laugh. “Oh, so it’s so dangerous that Camille caught on, but it’s important enough to ask her to hide it from me? What am I, Margaret the church gossip? You act like we’re dealing with national security here. What, Tommy, you got caught up in some advertising turf war? Corporate espionage involving your wife, our baby brother, and Madison fucking Davis ? Give me a break! This whole thing’s a goddamn joke, and none of it adds up.”
“The choice to clue you in isn’t up to me, Trent. I don’t know what else to say,” Thomas said. He sounded angry—whether at the situation, the universe, or himself, I couldn’t tell.
“None of that matters,” Liis said, her voice cool and composed. “What matters is that Camille and the baby are okay.”
Trenton scoffed. “Oh, thanks, Liis. Truly. Appreciate you saving us from whatever convoluted clusterfuck your husband’s created. Queen fucking E liis abeth. Slumming it in Eakins six times a year to make sure everyone knows they’re blessed by your presence, playing the moral authority to perfection, but you ain’t winning a Daytime Emmy, Your Highness, because even Toto knows you still hate Cami just because your husband met her first—and he’s half deaf and blind in one eye!”
“Hey!” Travis barked. “Leave Toto out of this, you monster!”
My mouth fell open, but when the shock went away, I winced so hard I could feel it in my molars. Part of me wanted to go out there to calm Trenton down, but after that, I was too embarrassed to face anyone.
“Trent, you only get one pass to lash out at my wife. That’s your one,” Thomas said, more menacing than I’d ever heard him.
“Don’t steal my shit,” Travis said. “That’s mine. Your one-liner in The Circle was… forgettable because I can’t even remember.” After a beat, he continued, amusement in his voice. “Damn, Trent, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re a salty bitch when you’re jealous.”
“Jealous of what , shit stain?” Trenton seethed. There was a long pause, and then Trenton spoke up again. “No, really, why would I be jealous? Are you saying…?”
“No,” Thomas thundered, his voice echoing through the room. He stopped to soften his volume, a hard edge still in his tone. “Absolutely not.”
“Then why would he say that?” Trenton asked. “One of you motherfuckers better start talking.”
Oh my God. He thinks the secret is that I’m carrying Thomas’s baby , I thought, panicking.
Just when I’d made the decision to intervene, Travis spoke up. “Jesus Christ, Trenton. Jealous because you’re feeling left out. Boo fucking hoo , you’re not in the club. You think we’re thrilled to be the inner circle of the ol’ top-secret trainwreck? That we enjoy keeping secrets from people we trust? We’re doing this to save your ass, Loki. Cope harder.”
Trenton’s voice rose then, his tone carrying a hurt I hadn’t heard before. “You’re holding state secrets that only you can know, fine. All that matters to me right now is Camille and our baby. Thank Christ we’re building our own family, because it feels like I don’t know you guys anymore.”
The words sank into the silence that followed, and my hand instinctively went to my belly. Just tell him , I thought, wondering what was going to be left of our family when they saved it.
The doorbell chimed, and moments later, the bedroom door creaked open. Hazel eased in, her eyes scanning the room behind her. By the look on her face, she’d instantly noticed the tension crackling in the air. “Hey, mama,” she greeted me. “How’s our baby? You doing okay?”
I offered her a small smile, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Still hanging in there.”
Hazel sat on the edge of the bed, folding her arms across her lap, her face softening with a kindness I didn’t see from her often. “Damn right you are,” she said, reaching over to pat my hand. “You know, that’s a Maddox baby. They’re built different. That little nugget was made to be a fighter.”
I snorted, but a part of me wanted to believe her. “Yeah, well, we’re not feeling so tough right now.”
Hazel leaned back, one eyebrow cocked. “Listen up, mama llama. You’re way tougher than you think. You married a Maddox . These things just… they’re not up to us, ya know? And whatever’s going on out there,” she said nodding to the bedroom door, “and Madison… also out of your hands. You have to let go and focus on what matters most. The days of taking on everything for everyone… they have to be over.”
Her words were comforting in their own Hazel way, but the hum of conversation in the other room grew louder, drawing our attention to the door. I could hear Travis’s voice cutting through the murmur, something about needing to be more careful than ever now and getting this right .
“What’s that about?” Hazel asked. “What Trenton was screaming in Thomas’s face at Skin Deep?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to answer, the heaviness of the secret pressing down on my chest. “They should tell. But they won’t. They can’t.”
Before Hazel could say anything else, Liis slipped in, feigning a smile as if the fabric of our family wasn’t unraveling in the next room. “You two doing okay in here?”
“Fine,” I said quickly, forcing a reassuring smile. “Just… tired.”
Liis’s eyes lingered on me, full of understanding, before flicking back to the door as the voices outside escalated. She nodded to herself, righting her posture. “Excuse me. I need to jog their memory about who the real enemy is.”
Hazel smirked. “She’s gonna handle it, I can tell.”
Liis pulled the door closed, their words fading to a low, indistinct murmur. Even then, I could hear her voice slicing through the tension outside, firm and commanding. It was clear the Maddox brothers weren’t going to resolve anything tonight, but they’d try all the same. I knew their love for each other ran deep, but they were treading in unfamiliar waters, trying to find a balance between the bond they shared and their instinct to protect their wives.
Hazel sighed beside me, glancing toward the door. “Can you believe them? All this bravado bullshit, it’s like they think arguing over your hospital bed is the best way to show they care.”
I managed a weak laugh. “You know them. If they’re not fighting, they’re probably asleep.”
She shook her head. “Boys. Liis doesn’t sound like she’s making headway. I don’t think anyone inside the family circle is going to get this squashed tonight.”
“If you’re wondering if it’s time to work your foster kid peacemaker magic, then yeah,” I muttered, leaning back into the pillows.
With a heavy sigh, Hazel pushed herself up. “Fine. Looks like it’s time for the wicked stepsister to do what she does best—lay down the law.”
She stomped out of the room, the familiar sound of her voice punctuating the tension. “Listen up, idiots,” she started, authority in her tone. “You’re stressing out our girl, which is just selfish as fuck, you drooling boobs. You’re all so busy trying to be right that you’re forgetting why you’re even fighting. So, everyone who doesn’t live here, exit, find some whiskey, and drink yourselves to sleep. Except for you, Travis. You should shower. You smell like yesterday.”
“I just left the gym!” he whined.
Hazel continued, “Come back tomorrow rested and less embarrassing adults.” After a short pause, she added, “Not a request, mommy issues. Vámonos !”
“You’re not even Spanish,” Travis said, sulking.
I could hear their footsteps shuffling toward the door—but Travis’s pouting was louder.
After a long pause, Hazel came back in, looking both triumphant and tired.
“They peaced out,” she announced, crossing her arms.
I giggled. “I imagined you as a pocket-sized dictator, bossing around a bunch of giant, confused man-children.”
“You wound me, wife,” Trenton said, pushing open the door.
“People tend to scatter like cockroaches when I start dropping truth bombs,” she smirked. “You gotta speak their language—loud, blunt, and as pissed off as they are.”
Trenton sat beside me on the bed, taking my hand in his.
“Did they tell you anything?” I asked, though a part of me dreaded the answer.
He shook his head, a shadow crossing his face. “No. I know they believe it’s for a good reason, but it still feels like bullshit.”
“Do you want me to tell you?”
He watched me for a moment, and then his expression softened. “No. That they trust you is enough.”
“It’s not that,” I insisted. “It has nothing to do with trust, it’s just they’re …” I glanced at Hazel.
“I’ll step out,” she said.
Trenton waited for the door to close and then turned to me. “Does it have to do with the fire?”
I closed one eye. “Kind of.”
“My theory is that Tommy knows someone who pulled some strings for Travis, and now he owes them a favor. But now he’s involved in some bad shit. The only thing I can’t figure out is Madison’s role in all of this.”
“You’re actually pretty spot on,” I said, surprised. “And if it makes you feel any better, they don’t know how Madison is involved, either, other than some people who have it out for Thomas are using her to threaten his family.”
“See?” he said, rubbing his face. “Was that so hard? I didn’t need the details.”
“The details are why they can’t tell anyone. They weren’t lying when they told you we’re all in the crosshairs of a very scary group of individuals. He’s already been forced to pull Travis into it. He’s drowning in guilt, and the last thing he wants is to involve you, too.”
“Baby doll… we’re involved.”
“I know, but…”
“The details,” he said, understanding.
I nodded. “The details.” I squeezed his hand. “Just know that it’s not about trust. Taylor and Tyler don’t know either. Neither does your dad, and they trust him more than anyone.”
He let out a shaky breath, nodding. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” He leaned over, pressing his lips to my forehead, his hand brushing my cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m just gonna shut up now so you can focus on baking our little cupcake in your Easy Bake Oven.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Pretty sure this oven is set to mayhem and madness .”
I wanted to believe everything would be fine, but as I looked into his eyes, I knew he was doing his best to put on a brave face. “Promise me you’ll try not to worry,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over my hair.
As he pulled away, his phone chimed with an alert, and he frowned, glancing down at the screen. “It’s the security app. Something tripped the sensors in the backyard. The night vision is picking up something.”
“Can you see anything on the cameras?” I asked, feeling a twinge deep inside my mid-section.
He tapped the screen a few times. “Yeah, but it’s,” he shook his head, frustrated. “It’s gotta be interference or something. It… One sec. I’ll be right back.”
He slipped outside, and Hazel stepped back in, confused about Trenton’s sudden departure. “Everything all right?” she asked.
“Can you grab the remote and switch the input to Z701?” I asked, stretching to relieve the suddenly searing pulse in my womb.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, grabbing the remote. She held it up, pressing buttons until the camera feeds popped up in a six-part grid. She selected the backyard panel, zooming in until we had a full-screen view of Trenton trudging across the grass, his flashlight cutting through the dark.
He scanned the area, then slowly made his way toward the greenbelt lining the far edge of our property—a feature that once made this place feel like a perfect choice, but now cast an unsettling shadow over the yard, even with the floodlights.
Hazel walked over to the large flat screen hanging over our dresser, pointing to a shadow in the bushes. “What’s that?” she asked. Suddenly, her expression shifted to horror. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
One of the floodlights went dark, and then another. On the screen, Trenton turned to look at the extinguished lights, and then crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, his flashlight spinning away into the shadows. A figure emerged behind him, dressed head-to-toe in dark clothing—a black hoodie pulled low and a mask covering the lower half of his face. His clothes seemed to blend into the night, loose enough to disguise any shape, with gloved hands and thick, heavy boots that absorbed each movement as if he were part of the shadows themselves.
Hazel covered her mouth as the figure loomed over Trenton’s unmoving form. “There’s more than one. Look, someone is walking toward the back door. I’m calling 911,” she said, reaching for her phone.
I felt a wave of panic surge, fierce and paralyzing. My chest tightened, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out my thoughts, and then something deep and relentless bloomed low in my abdomen. The pain was sharp, clawing through me, each throb intensifying with every second that Trenton lay motionless under the shadow of the intruder.
My hands flew to my stomach, and I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart kept hammering, my body caught between fear and agony, helpless as I watched the scene play out.
“Hazel—” I whispered, a tremor of pain cutting through my words.
Before she could react, the door swung open, and Madison stepped inside, shrouded in black. Her brown hair hung in loose waves over her shoulders, a dark duffel gripped in one hand, the gleam of sorority pins on the bag catching the light in a way that seemed almost absurd against her dark attire.
“Madison, get the fuck out of here,” Hazel snapped, stepping between us, her stance protective.
Madison sneered. “Did you get your little bodyguard at a discount on eBay?” Her voice dripped with venom. “Already sweating.”
I bent forward, pressing against the pain with my fingers. “What’s your plan, Maddie? They’re going to kill him. You don’t know what you’ve done!”
“That wasn’t the deal. Have you heard of deprogramming, Cami? It’ll probably take us six months to undo the hold you have on him.”
Hazel’s eyes darkened. “You really are insane.”
“I’m not crazy!” she screamed, her entire body shaking. She took a moment, and then spoke again, this time sweet and calm, even more unsettling than when she’d lost control. “Trent loves me. He’s always loved me.”
Hazel took a step back, closer to me. “You come anywhere near her, and you’re gonna wish you’d stayed in your padded room binge-watching true crime documentaries instead of living one, sweetheart.”
Madison took another step, but Hazel wasted no time, lunging at her. A fight broke out between them, Hazel’s blunt strength clashing with Madison’s desperation. As they thrashed into the hallway, I struggled to my feet, the pain intensifying.
Hazel gave her one hard push, then slammed the bedroom door, holding it shut. As Madison pushed back, I rushed over to help Hazel keep her out, looking down when warm liquid began dripping down my thighs.
“Oh, God,” I cried.
The door burst open, blowing us back onto the floor, but instead of Madison, three men in black stormed in, faces hidden, guns drawn. I crawled back as sweat dripped into my eyes, fear clawing up my spine.
Hazel scrambled to cover me with her body, protecting me the only way she could. “Don’t hurt her! Don’t!”
“I told you!” Madison said to the men. “Look at how people react. She’s brainwashed this idiot to be a literal human shield! She just… she…” A blur of screeching nonsense exploded from Madison’s mouth, ranting that she hadn’t planned this, that I wasn’t supposed to have Trenton’s baby anyway. Her delusions poured out in a litany of jealousy and rage, each word more unhinged than the last.
“Enough!” one of the men said, his Japanese accent muffled by his mask. “Bind her hands. We need to move.”
“She’s bleeding, fuckface! She needs an ambulance!” Hazel screamed.
The moment she shouted the words, one of the men was yanked backward into the hallway, leaving a beat of shocked silence.
Then, chaos erupted.
Travis yanked out the other two, Liis swiftly knocking one of them out with the butt of her side arm. Trenton’s brothers systematically disarmed the other intruders, bursting into action like a well-oiled machine, each moving with the precision and force only the Maddox family could muster.
Hazel lifted me from the floor, helping me to the bed. She nodded once and then turned around, prepared to defend me again if anyone got through the Maddoxes’ defenses.
Thomas drove his fist forward in a powerful hook that landed square on his adversary’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. The masked man barely had time to recover before Thomas drove a knee into his gut, knocking the wind out of him with a sickening thud. As he doubled over, Thomas locked an arm around his neck, twisting him down with a chokehold that forced him to the ground, struggling but quickly losing strength.
Travis had his hands full with the last intruder, who’d managed to swing a punch his way. He ducked under the blow, his movements fluid and quick, and countered with an uppercut that snapped his assailant’s head back. Not missing a beat, Travis followed with a brutal elbow to the face, blood spraying the wall. With a sharp kick to the back of his knees, Travis brought him down hard, pinning him to the floor, one arm twisted painfully behind his back as he held him there.
With all three intruders subdued, Thomas and Travis exchanged a quick nod, each breathing heavily but ready to react to any movement from their captives. Liis didn’t let her guard down either, keeping her grip firm on her target’s throat until he slumped, too weakened to resist further.
Liis kept them targeted with her 9-millimeter, threatening to put holes in the first person who moved.
“No! It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Trent was supposed to… We were going to…” Madison said, walking toward me.
Hazel stomped forward, cutting off her path and delivering a single solid punch to Madison’s nose that snapped her head back and knocked her out cold, sending her crashing backward to the floor.
Thomas scrambled in, breathing hard and staring at me. “Thank God for that app. It alerted us, and we turned around. You okay? Did they hurt you?”
“Where’s Trent?” I cried.
Trenton staggered into the room, dazed and bloody, crimson trickling down from a deep cut in his hairline. He made his way over to me, his hand unsteady as he drew back the comforter, his face draining of color when he noticed the blood-soaked sheets beneath me. They were soaked through, my life’s blood spreading like a haunting shadow, the reality settling like ice in my veins. Everything around us was a blur of voices, chaos—Thomas barking orders into his phone, sirens already howling in the distance.
Despite her round belly, Liis moved quickly, checking Madison’s bag and using the zip ties inside to secure Madison and the other fallen men. With swift precision, she looped the restraints around their wrists, pulling each one tight to prevent any escape.
“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Travis said, still breathing hard.
“Camille,” Trenton whispered, his voice broken, his eyes wide with terror as he took in the scene. “We need to get you to the hospital. Now. Tommy?” he called, glancing over his shoulder.
“Meet me outside,” Thomas said, turning on his heels.
Trenton scooped me up, blood smearing across his clothes. I leaned into him, trying to focus on my next breath, to hold on to the remnants of hope that fluttered weakly in my chest. Each step he took was like another beat of the clock, ticking away the time I had with the tiny life inside me. I wanted to tell him it would be okay, to reassure him, but I couldn’t make a promise I didn’t know if I could keep.
We’d held on to it all so tightly, every moment savored, even knowing it might end in heartbreak. But even as I felt in my heart it was slipping away, I only felt gratitude that we’d let ourselves feel it all—the joy, the risk, the hope of what might have been.
“Baby?” Trenton said, snapping me back to the present. “You with me?”
Liis reached back, her fingers pressing against my wrist, lingering just long enough to be sure. “Her pulse is strong, Trent.”
“There’s so much blood,” he said, his eyes scanning my stained T-shirt and then my face. “She’s losing too much blood.” He wasn’t speaking to Liis or to me, but to himself, barely holding it together, his eyes filled with a desperation that made my heart ache.
“It’s going to be okay,” I assured him, reaching my fingertips to graze his face.
“Please don’t leave me,” he begged.
“Trent,” Thomas said. “How’s she look?”
“Pale. She’s clammy,” Trenton reported. “Please hurry, Tommy. Please just…” his voice trailed off.
The car ride passed in hazy fragments. All I could focus on was Trent’s hand wrapped tightly around mine, his grip grounding me as the world spun. His face was set, jaw clenched, eyes staring straight ahead with that fierce, unbreakable Maddox determination, like he could will everything to be okay if he just held on hard enough.
When we reached the hospital, Trenton didn’t wait for the car to stop completely before he threw the door open, lifting me in his arms as he lithely crawled from the back seat. The desperation in his voice cracked through the night as he yelled to the hospital staff the second the ambulance bay doors swept open.
“I need a stretcher!” His words were more than a plea—they were a demand, raw and urgent, fueled by the sheer force of his need to protect me.
Three nurses rushed forward with a gurney, their faces turning from routine efficiency to alarm as they took in the scene—clearly recognizing me from earlier. Trenton’s arms trembled as he lowered me onto the stretcher, his eyes never leaving mine. His grip slipped from my hand, but his fingers brushed my cheek, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Sir?” a fourth nurse said, turning his face to view the cut on his forehead. “They’ll be taking her to the same room as before, but you’re going to need stitches for this. You need to come with me.”
“No, just… take care of her.”
“We will, but you need to let me take care of this while they focus on your wife and the baby.”
“Please,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “Just… please.”
Those were the last words I heard him say before they whisked me away. The wheels of the gurney squeaked against the linoleum, each turn taking me further from him, but the look of helpless, fierce love on his face left an imprint in my mind. Soon, I was in the same room we’d occupied earlier, a place we’d left with so much hope just hours before. Now, under the bright, sterile lights, that same room once again buzzed with urgent activity as the medical staff moved quickly around me, their voices overlapping in clipped, urgent tones. Despite the flurry of movement, a heavy sense of dread lingered beneath it all.
“Camille? Sorry to see you back so soon. We’re going to figure out what’s going on with you, okay?” Greg, the Physician’s Assistant, turned to speak with a nurse before moving on to the next thing on his mental checklist.
“Sir? Sir!” a nurse said, chasing after Trenton as he forced his way into my room.
“I’m not leaving until I know they’re all right,” he said.
“I told you,” the male nurse said. “I told you earlier. That’s the same guy from a few years back. The one who carried his girlfriend from a car wreck for miles with a broken arm, and refused pain meds to set it so he could stay in her room.”
“Is that you?” his nurse asked.
“Yeah,” Trenton said. “And I’m not leavin’ her this time, either.”
The nurses traded glances, and then Greg nodded. “He can stay.”