Cameron's Contract (2 page)

Tearing across the lawn, it felt like it took a lifetime to reach her.

She didn’t see me.

I swept her up and pulled her around to the right side of the house and shoved her against the wall. My palm covered her mouth.

Her terror showed, but recognition softened her frown. Her body trembled.

She startled when Shay sprinted around the corner.

“You’re probably wondering how I found you?” I whispered.

Her gaze returned to mine and she gave a nod.

I leaned in. “I shoved a bug up your ass when you were sleeping.” I arched an amused brow and, despite my heart still trying to force its way out, I forced a smile.

Mia stared up at me, blinking her confusion.

Despite this relief, my mind was ablaze with the consequences of what might have happened if she’d disappeared inside. These two men had proven their violence. It pained me to think it had been me who’d driven her here.

“Cole,” Shay said. “What the hell was that? I’m trying to protect you here.”

Mia squeezed her eyes shut.

I ignored his glare and asked her, “What are you doing here?”

Her frown deepened as she eased my hand away. “I’m taking care of it.”

“What exactly?” snapped Shay.

“Back off,” I told him.

“They just want a little money,” she whispered. “They promised—”

“You come to me with crap like this,” said Shay.

“Mia, how can you bear to face that man after what he did to you?” I said. “To your mom?”

“He threatened you, Cameron.” Her hand reached for her collar that was no longer there. “They swore they could ruin your reputation.”

“They don’t have that kind of power, Mia, unless you give it to them.”

“But—”

“We know they have your choker.”

She held back tears. “I’m going to get it back.”

“Forgive me for spanking you, sweetheart,” I said. “It was unconscionable.”

“I let him walk away with your beautiful choker.”

“You’re more important. Don’t ever forget that. Never put yourself in danger again.”

“Adrian threatened to leak my past to the press,” she said. “Tell the world you’re dating the daughter of a drug addict.”

“Oh, Mia. What would be the worst that could happen if that came out?”

“They told me it would affect Cole Tea.”

I glanced over at Shay.

We both knew Cole Tea didn’t need any help nose-diving into history.

Mia wrapped her fingers around my hand. “They warned me if I told you they’d contact the press.”

“Did Decker grab your collar off you this morning?” asked Shay.

She gave a nod, and she looked so worn down, so fragile.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you—” My arm shot up to protect her from the blur of movement to our left.

It was Emma, from Shay’s security team. We’d witness firsthand what she was capable of outside The Manor a few days ago. Her Ronda Rousey moves were legendary. Emma had taken down my attacker so quickly no one had seen a thing until the man was lying on the floor.

She handed Shay a gun and he tucked it inside his jacket. A few maneuvers later and he’d also hooked up a wire beneath his shirt, with Emma’s help.

I turned to face Mia. “Stay with Emma.”

“Let me talk to him,” she said.

Shay scoffed at that and tucked whatever else Emma had handed him into his jacket pocket.

“I have to deal with this,” said Mia. “This is my problem.”

“No, Mia,” I said calmly. “They want me. And they’ve come after me through you. I’m going to make it go away.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to safety.

I forced her to sit in the car, where she’d be safe with Emma and two of Shay’s guards watching over her. They’d turned up fast, making this an impressive display of his security detail. All this apparently went on in the background, and I paid Shay well not to see it.

With Mia calmed in the back of the Cadillac Escalade, Shay and I returned to the Herron’s front door.

“Sure you want to do this?” he said.

I held back on this urge to kick it down. Shay had to see me calm, collected, ready to deal with them and not escalate the situation.

“Take off your tie,” he said. “Less formal.”

After pulling it from my neck, I tucked it into my pocket.

Shay knocked.

Fierce barking came from inside, chilling my veins and setting off my adrenaline.

Shay casually sprinkled dark crumbs along the doorstep and dropped more along the threshold.

He met my gaze. “Emma checked the pet registry on the way here.” He brushed his hands together to get rid of the rest. “Dog food.”

I admired his forethought. “What kind?”

“Kibbles ’n’ Bits.”

“I meant the dog.”

He gave a shrug. “Rottweiler.”

CHAPTER 3

THE PUNGENT SMELL hit us.

Dog urine and burned food and something else—cigarettes and stale beer. A TV blared from the living room, raising the stakes to the drama.

Decker stood in the open doorway staring us down.

He’d aged from his driving license photo taken five years ago. A crooked life hadn’t been kind to him. He looked older than twenty-six. His boxer shorts and vest needed a wash. He hadn’t shaved in a while, or combed his hair.

If my ex-girlfriend McKenzie saw this tattooed stud now, the one everyone supposedly swooned over at Charlie’s, she’d have shut her damned mouth and run. To think I’d been fretting over this mystery man being a threat.

McKenzie had bitched her way beneath my skin, making me believe Mia was having an affair with this asshole, and all the while the sinister truth had loomed right in front of me. Regret seeped into my bones. I’d doubted Mia, doubted us.

Zen was called for. Not just here, now, but in the way I usually conducted my life. I’d let emotion get in the way and it had threatened all I held dear.

Fucked up everything.

That dog barked viciously from somewhere in the back of the house.

“Decker Hern?” I asked.

He went to close the door. “Not buying anything.”

“You work at Charlie’s?” I smiled.

His gaze swept the street behind us.

“Bad time?” said Shay.

Decker studied us. “Kind of.”

“You’re right.” I turned away. “We should go.”

“You don’t want your New Year bonus?” asked Shay, surprised.

“He’s busy.” I tucked my hands into my pockets and turned to go. “We’re running late anyway.”

Shay glanced my way. His brow arched to convey what we both now new. Decker didn’t know who I was.

“Sorry to have bothered you.” Shay went to follow me.

“You should have called first,” said Decker.

Shay turned back to him. “You didn’t get the email?”

“Email?”

“That’s another one,” I said.

“What kind of bonus?” asked Decker.

Shay patted his jacket pocket as though looking for it. “You’ve got this one,” he said to me.

“I’ve never seen you at Charlie’s?” said Decker.

“We’re from corporate,” said Shay. “They make us troll the neighborhood and piss off employees. Nobody’s ever home.”

“No one answers the door,” I said grouchily.

Shay shrugged. “The check’s not worth it to be honest.”

“How much?” asked Decker.

“Five,” said Shay.

“Dollars?”

“Hundred.” I said. “Five hundred. Tight bastards. Most volunteers ask us to redirect the funds back to Charlie’s.”

I patted my jacket. “I have the check here. Needs a signature. Shit, where’s my pen?”

Shay shook his head. Apparently he didn’t have one either. “We’ll mail the check to you.”

“Or we can add it your paycheck?” I offered.

“I have a pen,” said Decker.

Shay glanced at his watch and flinched at the time.

“To be honest,” said Decker, “I only just started at Charlie’s. Haven’t seen that first paycheck yet.”

“Sorry you didn’t get that email.”

Decker widened the door. “You can come in if you like.”

Shay glanced at me. “I suppose we could get this one done now.”

I agreed with a nod.

The house came in around 1000 square feet of chaos. Decker had all the makings of a hoarder, with old pizza boxes strewn here and there, beer cans crushed in the corner, and the only furniture was a well-worn sofa sagging in the middle. The mismatch cushions were stained yellow. The TV was new. Cigarette smoke wafted from a corner ashtray.

“What kind of dog?” said Shay. “Sounds like a poodle. My aunt has a poodle. Smart dogs.”

“Rottweiler. Big softy. Unless I’m threatened.”

“As it should be,” I said.

“How long have you lived here?” asked Shay.

“Just moved in with my brother. Sorry for the mess.”

“Your brother doesn’t work at Charlie’s?” said Shay.

“No, he…” He searched for the answer. “He’s got a job.”

“Where?” I said casually.

“Who gives a fuck, man,” snapped Shay.

He’d seen Decker’s left eyelid twitch, hinting at his suspicion.

Shay looked annoyed with me. “Give him the check then.”

I reached into my pocket.

“Do you have a beer?” said Shay.

“You’re not drinking.” I removed my hand. “We have ten other stops.”

“Just one. Get off my case.”

“This always happens.” I looked to Decker for support. “He gets drunk and then I have to drive him home to fucking Orange County.”

“Drinking is the only way to put up with your bullshit.”

I glared at Shay.

“I have to take a piss.” Shay rolled his eyes. “Restroom?”

Decker pointed. “Down the hall.”

“Which room’s your dog in?” asked Shay.

“Bedroom.”

“I’m not gonna get my dick ripped off am I?” Shay laughed and headed off.

“Stay out of the bedroom and you’ll be fine,” Decker shouted after him.

“I’m trying to keep him off the wagon,” I muttered.

“You mean on the wagon?”

I scratched my face, as though embarrassed.  

He glanced in Shay’s direction. “My brother’s a drinker. I get it.”

“He’s into the hard stuff too. I worry about him. He’s been there for me. But I’m getting tired of his drug use.”

“My brother uses.”

“Really?”

“I don’t touch the stuff.” He raised his hand defensively.

“Tried LSD once,” I lied right back. “Acted like I had superhuman powers. Believed I could rip a man’s head off with my bare hands.” I stared at him then back down at my palms, turning them over as though reminiscing. “Flashbacks are a bitch.”

“Bad trip?”

“The worst?” I pointed to the TV. “Nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” said Shay, appearing from the hallway. “He has a copy of War and Peace in the bathroom.”

“Yours?” I asked Decker.

“My brother’s.”

“I hate reading,” said Shay. “Don’t see the point.”

I arched an amused brow.

Shay was going for a fucking Oscar.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” I asked Decker.

“Charlotte.”

“What’s it like growing up there?”

“Grew up elsewhere.”

My movement was slow, deliberate, matching the way he leaned on his left leg, the way he held his hands to his chest defensively, and that tilt of his head.

“I was always in my brother’s shadow,” I whispered solemnly, matching that lilt in his accent, his tone, cadence.

A subtle mirroring.

 “Me too,” he muttered.

“Hate to think about it. Bad memories.”

 “Yeah, well.” He narrowed his gaze.

“I blame the way my dad was. Crazy son of a bitch.”

“Mine was drunk half the time. The rest of the time he was away at sea.”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Alaska.”

“Bet that was fun?”

“If you like wide open spaces.”

“Wide open spaces.”

“It’s kind of lonely, actually.”

“Lonely?”

“Ever been?”

“Once.”

“I hated it.”

“He hit you?” I muttered. “Your dad?”

“Tried to make me a man.” He scoffed at that.

“Life hurts,” I murmured.

Decker gazed off. “He almost broke my brother’s arm once. Shoved him down the stairs. He told my mom Adrian lost his balance.”

“How old?”

“17.”

“Where was your mom?”

“Around. She was scared of him too.”

“Your brother?”

Decker frowned. “I meant my dad.”

“Your parents tried to keep you on the straight and narrow,” I whispered.

“Suppose.”

“They knew.”

“Knew?”

“You were both strong willed. Full of possibility. Could have gone either way.”

“Yeah, well.”

“We blame our parents, but that’s a cop out,” I said. “There comes a time when we know right from wrong.”

He looked at us warily.

“You can either live life well, serve others, be kind and good, or you can choose to be an A-one asshole. Choice is yours ultimately. Apparently you chose the latter.”

“What?”

“He called you an asshole,” said Shay.  

“Why?”

“You’re fired,” I said flatly.

His jaw gaped.

“We only hire staff with integrity.”

“What about my check?”

“There is no check,” said Shay.

“I don’t understand.”