Chapter 17 #2
She walked around the corner of the building, her legs shaking, eyes searching, blood still rushing in her ears.
And then she saw it. The table where Cameron had been was empty.
Her stomach dropped. A tight wave of panic rolled through her.
But laced beneath it was something close to relief. It had been Cameron.
It had to be Cameron. Right? As much as that angered her, she breathed easier at the possibility of him rushing her than a stranger.
Stepping further out into the coffee shop's garden she spotted him at the outside counter talking to the barista. Both were in deep discussion about tonight's game and the current score. The kernel of cold fear in her stomach sprouted and began to spread like veins throughout her body. Was it him?
She thought back on that moment. The way the figure had seemed to materialize out of the dark.
The way they had predicted her defensive moves.
Catching her wrist and shifting his body at her sharp knee.
And that cologne. It was crisp and clean yet aromatic and spicy like bergamot and pepper suffused together.
It was different from anything she had smelled before and not the cologne that had filled Cameron's car on the way there.
Ebony thought of the only time something similar had happened.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. Even as she found his contact file and typed the message it made perfect sense and didn’t at the same time.
Who else could read and block her moves with ridiculous ease?
Who else was crazy enough to ambush her like that?
She sent a text to Gavin.
Me: Where are you right now?
His reply was immediate as if wherever he was he had been waiting for her to text.
Gavin: I'm at the game. Where are you?
Ebony frowned in confusion. Was he lying?
Me: Prove it.
A few seconds later a picture came through of him staring into the camera with one eyebrow raised. Behind him she could see people on the bleachers.
Gavin: Your turn. Where are you?
Ebony didn’t have time to let the information sink in before Cameron walked over carrying two cinnamon rolls.
"I got us some cinnamon rolls…hey you, okay?" he asked, putting the plates down on a nearby table.
Her fear and frustration must have shown on her face, because Cameron reached for her, holding her by the shoulders.
Not now. She’d would think about this later—alone, in private. Right now, she had to keep it together.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just Gavin texting me." She held up the phone. Which wasn't an outright lie he had texted her eight questions marks back-to-back. He was the only person in the world that could make a question mark look menacing.
Cameron scowled at the phone. "Then let's take our mind off of him and replace it with empty calories."
Ebony laughed and followed him back to the table even as her eyes kept scanning the area.
They spent another half hour finishing their food and talking before finally leaving.
They were back on the main road heading back down the mountain toward home when they came to a wall of red and blue flashing lights.
They were about ten cars ahead of them stopped on the road, no one moving.
"Is it an accident?" she asked.
He shifted in his seat trying to see past the cars. "Maybe, I see a firetruck up there."
"Hopefully no one was-" A blur of red whooshed past their car cutting her off.
Both her and Cameron sat perfectly still watching as an ambulance raced to the front. They sat there for another thirty minutes not moving an inch. Eventually an officer walked down, stopping at each car and talking to the driver.
After a few minutes he stopped at their car. "Good evening. There’s been a pretty bad accident at the main road down the mountain blocking both lanes. Nobody's making it down in the next few hours."
Ebony glanced at her phone. It was already eleven thirty. The thought of sitting there for another few hours was daunting.
She looked at Cameron. "I have an idea."
Thirty minutes later they were walking through the quiet halls of the Rosebank Hotel.
It was her family hotel located in Stardust Heights.
She had only ever visited the beautiful five-star hotel when her parents had wanted to eat dinner at the fancy French restaurant, Le Palais, or for the company dinners her dad hosted.
There had never been a reason to actually stay at the hotel—until tonight.
It took a little convincing and maybe even a dash of name dropping her family name but she was able to get them a suite.
"I can’t believe I'm actually staying in a Rosebank suite." Cameron's excitement was palpable. Holding the tote filled with overnight essentials, all things they had bought from the discreet hotel store, he was practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
Even though she had tried to stop it, the memory of that mysterious kiss resurfaced and Ebony stopped in her tracks and gave him a pointed stare. "I think I should inform you, I only intend to sleep tonight. I didn’t want to wait around for that accident to clear up but I don’t intend on-"
Cameron held up a hand stopping her. He gave her a shocked look and clutched his t-shirt as if he were clutching pearls.
"Miss Rosebank, get your mind out of the gutter.
" He grinned and leaned toward her and spoke low.
"While you know how I feel about you, I've got be honest," he inhaled sharply and gave her a confessing look.
"All I really want to do right now is swan around a luxurious suite and take pictures of myself drinking champagne or something like an absolute poseur. "
Completely taken aback, Ebony laughed, the sound echoing down the quiet hall. Trying to muffle their laughs they finally made it to their room. The three-room suite was quite nice, Ebony noted, but it hardly compared to Cameron marveling over all the amenities.
They were both dressed in their robes lying on the large king bed eating a bowl of mixed nuts and watching TV when she let out her third sleepy yawn. Cameron clicked off the TV and laid down on the pillow next to her.
Ebony wanted to remind him of the other bedroom but let it go as another wave of fatigue hit her.
"If I kiss you right now, would you kick me in the balls?" His gaze held hers.
Ebony nestled deeper onto her side, the crisp linen of the hotel pillow cool against her face as she stared back. "No, but I would taste like cashews."
"Mmm thank God I like cashews." He kissed her and just like that, everything else faded. The silence, the distance, the doubt. Just for one blessed moment, she could pretend it was all all right.
The shrill sound of a phone ringing jarred her awake. Opening her eyes, Ebony blinked, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Actually, everything was unfamiliar. The bed. Her loose hair around her head instead of her satin bonnet. And the sleeping man next to her hugging a pillow.
For a split-second panic began to rip through her like an electrical current as she stared at Cameron's sleeping face and equally distraught curls, then the memories of last night settled back over her. Oh yeah, they had come here because of the traffic jam.
The phone rang again, shrill and urgent. Reaching over to the nightstand she lifted it off the base and brought it to her ear.
A desperate sounding young woman whispered frantically into the phone. "Miss Rosebank, please. You have to do something."
"Wha-" she didn’t have the chance to get the word out before the woman continued.
"Gavin is here." The three simple words felt like gunshots in her head. "He's here threatening to go to each room one by one until he finds you if we don’t give him your room number. We tried to explain that-"
"Give me three minutes and send him up," she said, cutting the girl off.
All the fatigue left her body and Ebony stood up out of the bed. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thanked God she was still dressed in her underwear and t-shirt. Cameron had been true to his word last night, he had only wanted to kiss her and tried nothing else.
"Please make it two," the girl begged before hanging up.
Grabbing her jeans, Ebony hopped on foot and pulled them on while practically shouting Cameron's name.
He woke up like a zombie, hinging at the hips straight up in bed. Disoriented, he blinked and stared at her, still not really in the land of the present.
"Wake up, get dressed, and take the back stairs," she pointed in the direction of the back stairs they had seen last night in the hallway, "and run to your car. They just told Gavin the room number."
All the sleep vanished from his face and a little bit of color too as the reality of her words sank in. Faster than she had ever seen him move, Cameron was up and pulling his shirt on, since he had slept in his pants. She ushered him to the door looking frantically down the hall.
Quickly Cameron slipped past her. "Call me later," he half whispered half yelled as he ran towards the stairwell exit.
Looking back down the hallway towards the elevator, Ebony's stomach knotted as she watched the numbers on the elevator count down. He was coming.
Closing the door, she stepped back. Running a hand through her curls she glanced at herself in a nearby mirror. Her curls were a mess, but with a night of no bonnet and no product there was very little she could do about it.
She wasn't sure why she was expecting a knock. Gavin would never knock. Knock down a door sure. But he would not knock for entry. He would take it.
There was a beep signaling the lock disengaging and then the door was being flung open. The door slammed against the wall, hard enough to rattle the hinges.
Gavin didn’t just walk in. He invaded. Every step a promise of violence barely leashed.
His hair looked as unruly as hers, with some of it hanging over his face.
His eyes looked tired yet bright with rage as if he hadn't slept.
There was a chaotic fury simmering beneath his skin that made her step back in caution.
"I came home last night to an empty house." He didn't raise his voice but it was deadly all the same.
Ebony’s breath stalled. She forced herself to ignore the radiating waves of anger. "There was an accident up here last night. The road down the mountain was blocked for hours."
"So, you get a room?" His voice was a knife gliding across silk. "You don’t call me?"
Ebony faked a nonchalant shrug even as she took another step back. "I was fine."
His eyes slid to the bed. Rumpled sheets. Her silence. Her hair. His gaze iced over. "You were with him last night. Here. In this room. In that bed."
The air dropped ten degrees.
She stepped back, an instinctive move. He followed. Doggedly. Until the back of her legs collided with the mattress and there was nowhere left to go.
Then he moved.
His hand closed around her throat with the kind of pressure that left no room for misunderstanding. Not gentle. Not warning. Possession. His big body caged hers, pinning her against the mattress where they both fell, rage blistering just beneath his skin.
"You don’t love him." The words were fractured glass, spoken for her or for him, she couldn’t be sure.
Even with his hand around her throat and the feel of her pulse thrumming against his fingers her defiance still sparked. "...I don’t," she paused. "But I could. You don’t-"
"You didn’t fuck him." A statement. Not a question. But it needed an answer, she could see that in his glacial eyes staring down at her.
"I didn’t. But-" Again her pride tried to push back but he cut her off.
Gavin released her throat, and she sucked in a breath. He stood without a word, eyes still on her as his hand closed around the sheets. One sharp yank, violent and unforgiving. The bedding tore free beneath her.
With his back towards her he spoke, his calm deadly words wrapping around her throat like silk. "Let me be clear. You will never date him or anyone else for that matter."