CRUSH (31 page)

“No thanks, Mom. I just want to take a nap.” I
was doing a lot of sleeping lately. It was sometimes the only relief I
had—when the nightmares didn’t get me.

“All right.” She gave me a concerned look. “I’m
here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” I said as she closed the door behind
her, and I rolled over to face the wall, finally allowing myself to shed
tears—over everything. I couldn’t wrap my head around it all. I was
hurt—sad—angry with Clay. He’d been my best friend my whole life!
How could he betray me in the worst way possible? He’d destroyed everything
good I could remember about him in just a few moments . . . a
lifetime worth of happy memories forever tainted with the stain of his final
acts. But despite the trauma he’d put me through, he wasn’t the reason I woke
up gasping for breath in the middle of the night.

I missed Hunter—craved him—longed
to be wrapped again in his embrace. I missed his kisses, the way he stared at
me, eyes smoldering as his hands trailed hot caresses over my skin. I missed
the tender words he often whispered in my ear and how beautiful they made me
feel. Hunter—the one I’d imagined my future with—only to find out
he wasn’t even real, nothing but a character contrived to deceive others.
Ironically, that seemed the worst betrayal of the two, constantly spinning one
question over and over in my head.

Is it
possible to love someone who never really existed?

It was my birthday. I didn’t feel much like
celebrating, though. My parents must’ve understood this, because they didn’t
pull out the extravagant hoopla they usually did. There were the traditional
birthday pancakes, complete with bacon smiley faces—despite the fact I
was turning eighteen—and a small wrapped package at my plate.

“What’s this?” I asked, tucking some of my
wild, wayward hair behind my ear. I hadn’t bothered changing out of my
pajamas—what was the point when all I did was spend my time in bed these
days.

Mom shrugged. “Who knows? It was delivered here
this morning.”

I reached for the small box and shook it. “It
feels empty.”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” Dad
suggested, and he looked like he was trying to hold back a sly smile.

I undid the ribbon and lifted the lid. “It’s a
piece of paper.” I glanced between them, confused.

“Well, read it,” my mom said.

Picking up the paper, I opened it to find two
words scrawled on it:

Forgive me
.

I recognized the scrawling loops of his
handwriting immediately and my stomach dropped. “Where is he?” I asked, my
breath catching as tears sprung to my eyes.

Dad smiled. “He’s in the living room waiting
for you. We’ll be outside on the patio if you need us.”

I turned and ran through the doorway, coming to
an abrupt halt just inside the room. My heart raced when I saw him standing at
the fireplace with his back to me while he ran a finger over a framed photo of
me resting on the mantle. I closed my eyes and opened them again to make sure
he was still there and I wasn’t dreaming.

He chose that moment to turn around, and for a
few seconds I couldn’t look away from his sorrowful eyes. I didn’t notice the
sling until I glanced over the rest of him. “What’s that for?” I asked,
concerned. “No one told me your arm was injured too.”

He looked down. “It’s not. I just have to keep
it still. The bullet nicked my lung and lodged into the shoulder blade. It’s
going to take a little time to heal correctly.”

All of a sudden I was angry, my worry over the
last few weeks boiling to the surface. “Where have you been, Hunter? The last I
heard from anyone, you were in critical condition. Not one word since! I didn’t
know if you were dead or alive. I didn’t even know who to ask to try and find
out about you. Nothing! From anyone all this time!”

He sighed and gestured toward the couch. “Do
you care if we sit? I’m sure this will take a while, and I get tired easily.”

Trying to calm myself, I exhaled a deep breath
and sat down. He joined me, giving me plenty of space by sitting on the
opposite end of the sofa. It was strange to see him purposely keep his
distance. After all the times I’d fantasized about being back in his
arms—it hurt.

“Tell me everything,” I demanded, unable to
take my eyes off him. He appeared tired, stressed—maybe a bit thinner
too, but he was still capable of making my insides flip-out just by looking at
him.

“Okay.” He seemed so stiff and formal. “First
things first, I guess. My name is Dylan Hunter Wilcock, and I’m twenty-one
years old. I’m a newly graduated police officer from the Tucson Police
Department in Arizona. I haven’t been on the force very long. When the Copper
City police contacted us for help on this case I was recruited as part of an
interstate team.”

“What case?” I asked, curiosity taking the
place of my annoyance.

“Jordan Henley’s family felt there were
suspicious circumstances surrounding his death, and according to other
witnesses, he wasn’t one to use heavy drugs like methamphetamines. Not only did
he die from an overdose,
but
he died with an obscene
amount of the drug in his system. There were enough questions brought up by the
autopsy that it warranted further investigation. I was sent here to gather
information and profiles on the students in this school and to see if I could
infiltrate the drug scene and find who was making or selling the meth. When I
got here, I was trying to get in friendly with Derek Johnson to see if I could
discover who he was supplying and buying from. It was important I appear
involved in every aspect of the lifestyle to keep from raising any suspicions.”

“That’s why you were using? You were trying to
keep up your cover?”

“Yes. I couldn’t make you understand why
without blowing it. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

That stung. “I would’ve kept your secret. Or
didn’t you trust me either?”

“I trusted you, but it was safer for you not to
know. Besides,
had
you known, it
could’ve changed the way you acted around Clay, and he was on my list of
potential dealers after you told me about how he’d suddenly come into money. I
didn’t want you to tip him off.”

“So everything you told me was a lie, a way to
get closer to Clay so you could find out what he was up to?”

“No. I wasn’t sure about Clay until the very
end, but I’d had my suspicious. I’d caught him sneaking around your house one
night after you’d gone to bed. That was the day you accused me of spying on you
from my car. I knew there was something off, and he needed to be watched. He
honestly was stalking you, but you didn’t know it. I had no solid proof to pull
him in for questioning, so I had to sit back and wait. I was trying to figure
out a way to clue you in on things without exposing my identity, but you were
so certain he was innocent. I didn’t know what else to do at the moment, except
stay close and hope I’d be able to properly protect you.”

There was an awkward pause, and I played with
the hem on my pajama shirt. “Well, I guess I was wrong about him, wasn’t I?”

“I’m sorry about everything involving him. I
know this all must be very difficult for you. He was your friend for a long
time.” He actually did look sorry, which made me feel he genuinely was. I knew
how he’d felt about Clay.

I shrugged, not wanting to relive the recent
horror Clay had put me through. “He shouldn’t have shot you. He’d be fine if he
hadn’t started messing around with stuff he had no business being involved in.”

“He was sick, Cami. I honestly believe he’d
never have tried to hurt you if he’d been in his right mind. Something made him
snap. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the truth.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you sound like you
care all of a sudden? You never liked him.”

“No, I didn’t, but that was because I saw him
as a threat to you.”

I snorted, trying to distance myself from the ache
and emotion coursing through me. “I was just part of your lie though—your
excuse to get close to all those kids. Why did it matter if he wanted me too?”

“You’re kidding, right?” He looked exasperated.
“Do you honestly have no idea how much I care about you?”

“I haven’t heard from you for weeks, Hunter
 . . .
err . . . Dylan—whoever
you are! I had no idea where you were or if you were alive! I think you proved
exactly how much you care about me!” I lashed out. “Do you know what that was
like . . . constantly worrying and wondering if you were okay?
Waiting day after day to hear from you—anyone—and given
the courtesy of knowing how you were doing?
You left me all alone,
without a word to your whereabouts!”

“I couldn’t call you, Cami! I wasn’t allowed.”

“Why not?” I yelled, wondering if my parents
could hear me outside.

“Because I’ve been suspended by the department
pending an investigation.”

“What does that have to do with contacting me?”
I asked, my mind spinning in a thousand fragmented directions.

He gritted his teeth. “The investigation is to
make sure I wasn’t involved in any sexual misconduct with a minor.”

“What?” I was completely astounded. And
suddenly everything made sense with perfect clarity. “This is why you kept
pushing me away, isn’t it?”

He rubbed a hand over his face before dropping
it into his lap. “I’m twenty-one, and a cop. You were seventeen. I crossed the
bounds of propriety. I asked to be pulled from the case several times because
of it, but the department felt I was right where I needed to be to discover the
truth, so I was directed to proceed with caution. I was told not to get
involved in anything like kissing or the lines would get sticky.

“I couldn’t help myself. I tried to stay away,
but I couldn’t. Once the investigation was brought up, I was ordered by a judge
to have no contact with you until you turned eighteen. You have no idea how
many times I wanted to call you or send Chris to tell you what was going on,
but that’s all considered contact. I wasn’t free to speak to you until today,
and I’ve been here since daybreak, waiting for you to get up. I’ve already
explained this to your parents.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. I was so
confused, yet I couldn’t help the bud of hope that was beginning to bloom in my
chest.

“I’m saying I love you, Cami. All of that was
as real for me as it was for you. I’m asking if you’ll stick this out beside
me. I’m willing to lose my badge and even be dishonorably discharged if that’s
the case. I just don’t want to lose you.”

I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss
him at his declaration, but something held me back. “I don’t know what’s true
about you and what isn’t. I thought I knew a lot, but it turns out it was
actually very little.”

He sighed and rubbed his face again. “I’ve made
a mess of everything, haven’t I? Let me just say I wanted you to fall in love
with me . . . the real me . . . so I tried to
tell you the truth as often as possible. I was the hotheaded jock in high
school. I partied with the best of them and hooked up with lots of girls. All
of that was true, but I never loved any of them. I excelled at sports, and
hoped to continue on with them in college. Then my sister got married to this
amazing guy who was a cop, and we became best friends. I adored him, followed
him around like a puppy, and one day I decided to go into the police academy
instead. My parents are alive and very happy, and the only time I’ve used drugs
during this investigation was when it was necessary to keep my cover. The first
time I kissed you, I was trying to keep you from discovering the pictures I’d
taken of Clay so you wouldn’t be suspicious. You were so determined, I couldn’t
think of another way to stop you, so I just did it. It was a line I should’ve
never crossed, but once I did, I couldn’t go back.”

I didn’t know what to say. I sat there trying
to absorb everything he was telling me, watching him while he sat stiffly on
the couch. He looked so uncomfortable. “I don’t know what to call you,” I
finally said.

“Call me Dylan, or Hunter if you want.” He
relaxed a little for the first time since he sat down. “Honestly, I don’t care
what you call me as long as you’re calling me
something
. I want you by my side.” He slid off the couch onto his
knees in front of me, not touching me at all, but more like an act of
submission. “Please tell me it’s not too late to fix this. Tell me you still
love me. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. I’ll risk everything
that’s important to me, just to hear you say you want me in your life.”

My gaze trailed over his gorgeous face, and I
longed to touch him. “I don’t want you to risk everything for me. I’m not worth
it.” I brushed back the lock of hair that hung over his forehead.

“You are worth it. I’ve had a near miss with
death and it showed me there’s only one thing worth living for and that’s love.
I love you. Please give me another chance.”

I shook my head as tears fell down my face. “My
dad didn’t like you before. I wonder how he feels about you now?”

“Is that a yes?” He looked at me hopefully.