Chapter 21

Twenty-One

Cassie

Sweet baby Jesus. I've got a fucking marching band playing inside my skull. I'm afraid to open my eyes. The sun will melt me like the bad guys in Raiders of the Lost Ark. "No more tequila." Just saying the word makes my stomach churn.

"Damn you, Ashley," I whisper, still afraid to utter anything with real volume.

"Suck it up, buttercup," Cam calls gleefully from the doorway. It's clear that he's enjoying my misery. "If you can't handle your liquor, don't fucking drink it."

I lift one shaking hand, middle finger extended, and then let it drop back to the bed. The effort was just too much. Cracking one eye open just enough to peer at him through my lashes, I remind him, "You weren't complaining last night."

"Hell no I wasn't. Drunk Cassie has a kinky streak and I fucking love it."

Yeah. When I have the strength, I'll be mortified by the things I did. The things I asked him to do. Fucking hell. But for now, I can't focus on more than taking one breath after another without puking. "You are a merciless bastard, Camden Fellows. The very least you could do is bring me something to cure this cotton mouth."

"McDonald's coke on your bedside along with a couple of Tylenol and, when you're up to it, breakfast is in the kitchen."

I shudder at the thought. But the coke ... omg. There is nothing better for a hangover than a McDonald's coke. Rolling over, I reach for it like I've been stranded in the desert for days. And that first sip goes all the way to my soul.

"I take it all back. You're a god amongst men."

"Yeah, you said that last night too. Right after you grabbed me by the hair and ... well, let's just say you offered very specific instructions about what you wanted. As always, I aim to please."

I groan. "Can we not talk about what a shameless hussy I was last night?"

"Oh, we're gonna talk about it. And once you return to the land of the living, we're gonna see how shameless you can be when not fueled by margaritas. And just so there's no confusion, I am always happy to take direction. I'd be a shitty excuse for a man if I didn't give you what you want. What you need."

How can I possibly be this hungover and miserable while simultaneously being turned on? Because it's Cam. Because his very existence is like a damned aphrodisiac. "Just hold that thought. At least until I've had more caffeine and a shower."

"Drink your coke, Cass. Troy is picking me up so that I can go get the Caddy which is still parked at Casa del Fuego. And when I get back, you better be ready for a repeat performance. Hot, dirty, and incredibly satisfying."

I can't think. I can't even form a coherent sentence as he strolls casually out of my bedroom. I'm in some kind of lust‐induced trance until I hear the front door slam. That's like an alarm going off. I reach for the coke, down about half of it. The sugar and the caffeine start kicking in and the carbonation soothes my very abused stomach.

"Shower. And for fuck's sake shave your legs," I tell myself as I scramble from the bed. —--

I'm showered. I'm shaved. I've given myself a blowout worthy of even Lizzie's impressive skills. And I'm alone. The restaurant is maybe ten minutes from my house. Cam should have been there and back within half an hour. So something is wrong. Something has to be wrong.

For the fiftieth time, I check my phone. It's fully charged. Probably because Cam had the foresight to plug it in last night. God knows I didn't. I have full bars so there's no issue with service.

I'm about to head out looking for him when I hear the door. I don't know what I thought I was going to do heading out on foot, other than pass out from pushing my poor alcohol abused body to the limit. Still, I'm so relieved that he's home.

Home.

Since when was my house Cam's home? When I think about his place, meticulously clean but spartan to the point of being impersonal, I know he's not at home there either. It's a place to live. But it's not a home.

"I was starting to think you weren't coming back." I had intended it to be a joke, to be sarcastic and funny, but it doesn't sound like that. And when I turn to face Cam, there's something in his expression that alerts me instantly to the fact that something has gone horribly wrong. "What is it? Whatever it is, just tell me straight."

"It's Brandon. I was with Troy when the call came through. He's ... he was found dead in his cell," he says.

I ought to feel something. I dated him for years. And I do feel sad, but not like I ought to. I'm sorry for his wife. I'm sorry for his little girl who will grow up without a father. I"m even sorry for his shitty parents and psycho sister. But with Brandon, all I feel is a kind of pity for the wasted potential. "Oh. How?"

"Hanging," he says softly.

That's not right. "Umm, that's not Brandon. Like, I just can't see that."

"Yeah. None of us can. This is big, Cass, and it can't be shared with anyone. Brandon was on the verge of narcing on every drug supplier in the county. Hell, he was giving us names that are moving on a federal level. But he hadn't signed his affidavit yet."

"And now he can't, which renders it completely useless," I sum up. "Someone got to him. But who?"

"I don't have an answer for that other than to say I don't think it was another inmate. Brandon's been pretty sheltered since the bust. It was to our benefit to protect him and that meant keeping him out of gen pop in the jail."

"You think it was one of the jailers." It's not a question. I don't need to ask. I know Cam. He's not going to turn a blind eye to something like this just because it would implicate another cop or correctional officer. He's not that guy.

"Likely. Yeah. Are you okay?"

I nod. "Shockingly, yes. I mean, I feel bad for the people who loved him. But I wasn't one of them. Not in a long time ... if I ever was. It's just a waste. And now, more than anything else, I'm worried about you. It's one thing, Cam, for you to face danger on the outside. It's another when that danger is hiding behind the guise of a friend or coworker."

"Troy and I have each other's backs. Don't you worry about us, Cass. But this could send Jenna over the edge. I don't want you going anywhere alone until we figure out what the fuck her psycho ass is gonna do."

"I've got my concealed carry. I don't flash it around, but I do. And I'll be armed from now on," I tell him. "I won't let her get the jump on me and I won't make the mistake of thinking I can deal with her rationally. I"m okay."

He nods, then leans back against the kitchen island. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and he lets out a deep breath, like the weight of the world had been lifted from him. "I was afraid that you might ... well, when someone is gone forever it brings up a lot of feelings. Feelings you think are resolved. I thought maybe you might have some regrets. About him. About us."

I cross the living room to where he's standing and then I just lean into him, almost forcing him to wrap his arms around me to keep his balance. Then I look up, locking eyes with him. "You listen to me, Cam, and you listen well. I'm not drunk. I'm not flying high on a pitcher of margaritas. I love you. I've always loved you. Since the second grade." I'm poking him in the chest with my index finger to punctuate each word.

He closes his hand over mine and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss against my fingertip. "Okay. You've made your point. Literally and figuratively."

"No. No, I haven't. Because it's like this ... you're my person. You were my person when I was single. You were my person even when I was with Brandon. And you'll keep on being my person whether this works out with us or not."

"It'll work. I won't let it fail," he vows.

"Move in with me. Here. I know you don't have any attachment to your place."

He grins. "I bought the furniture with the house. It's the shit the realtor staged it with. And you're right. I don't have any attachment to it. It's just a place ... well, except for the shower. The shower definitely holds some fond memories."

I ease back and take his hand in mine, tugging gently. "Then come with me and we'll make some new ones in mine. I love you, Cam."

"I love you, Cass. I love you in a way I never dreamed was possible."

"Then put your money where your mouth is and prove it,"

He nods. "Are you telling me to put a ring on it?"

My heart is stuttering in my chest. Between the tequila, the queso and this man, I'm gonna need a cardiologist. "No, Cam. I was telling you to come fuck me in the shower. Do you want to put a ring on it?"

"I think maybe I do. But we'll get back to that after the shower. I don't have enough blood going to my brain right now for life decisions."