Healing Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (2 page)

Cam’s attention was now fully on Father Martinez as he continued the story.

“Camillus eventually had a change of heart and wanted to join the monastery but was unable to. So he traveled to Rome where he entered the Hospital of St. James and began working to assist the ill and injured. Eventually, he founded an Order of health care workers who would assist soldiers on the battlefield. In fact, they wore a large red cross on their cassocks which today is recognized as the symbol of the Red Cross. His works with the ill and his Order spread throughout what is now known as Europe.”

Cam sat quietly, not knowing what to say, not moving as Father Martinez continued to tell more stories of St. Camillus. His heart pounded, feeling so heavy that he lifted his hand to rub his chest.

As Father Martinez fell silent once more the two sat facing each other, peace settling over the pair.

Finally Cam found his voice. “Why? Why did you tell me all of this today?”

The smile from Father Martinez exemplified his wrinkled face. “My son, I don’t know. Sometimes God lays things on my heart to say. This seemed necessary today. I felt that you needed to hear all about your namesake and the lessons that can be learned. That a man can turn from a wild life to a life of service. A man can change his destiny.”

The old Father began to rise and Cam jumped up to assist him. Holding on to him until he was steady on his feet, Cam noted that his own hands were firmly clasped in the gnarled hands of the priest.

“My son?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Today, go home. Not to wherever you were going to go. But to home. Sit with your family, if only for this one night.”

No knowing why he agreed, Cam nodded. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had missed the rendezvous with his friends anyway. They were going to hit another store.
They’ll just have to hit this one themselves.

Cam did what was asked, going home and spending the evening with his family. Later that night, news traveled through the neighborhood. His two friends had become embroiled in a shootout with the police as they tried to escape the robbery. One was killed and one was arrested after shooting a police officer.

For weeks Cam could not sleep, his mind continually playing over the
what-ifs
. He had attended the burial of the friend, Jose, seeing the ravaged expressions of the parents’ faces. He knew Carlos’ fate in prison would be little better than being in the casket.

He did not go out. He did not go see other friends. His parents were worried, but he would not confide his thoughts to them. Finally, he went back to see Father Martinez.

“How did you know?” he yelled, his face torn with anguish.

Father Martinez did not have to ask what he was referring to. Motioning to a pew, the two sat down, very similar to their last meeting. The older, wiser man leaned over, taking Cam’s hand into his own. “I can’t give you a definite reason, my son. Your mother came to see me and I told her to send you in some time. I had been thinking about you and then about your namesake, seeing such similarities. It just seemed to be the right time to let you know that it is never too late to make a change in your life.”

Cam hung his head, unfamiliar tears stinging his eyes. “You heard? About my friends? One dead and the other going to prison on a lot of charges, including shooting a cop?”

Father Martinez nodded his head sadly.

“That coulda been me,” Cam bit out. “That shoulda been me.”

“No. That was on them. Their choices. God gives us the ability to make what we choose out of our lives. You may have been on that path with them, but you made a choice to come here instead, even if the decision was just to placate your mother.”

He held the younger man’s gaze steadily while repeating, “It was your choice. You made the decision and it was the right one to make. Now, only you can decide what you will do with your life. Your choice.”

Reaching into his pocket, Father Martinez pulled out a silver pendant on a chain. “St. Camillus,” he stated, holding the medallion out for Cam.

Cam reached for it, rubbing his fingers over the emblem before slipping it over his neck.

The silence that followed no longer seemed heavy. In fact, for the first time in many years, Cam breathed easier. Sucking in a huge gulp of air, he let it out slowly. Nodding to Father Martinez, he stood and slowly walked out of the chapel. Out into the summer Virginia sunshine, feeling the warmth down deep.

10 years later

T
he clink of
the metal bar hitting the supports echoed in the early morning gym. Cam was in an old facility mostly used by local boxers and, at this hour, he had the place to himself. He had given up on the other, more populated sports gyms, hating the crowds and the looks that came his way from a few of the women running in designer gym wear on the treadmills. He was not interested; he barely had time for himself and a high-maintenance woman would not fit into his lifestyle. Not that he was against having a relationship—he just had not found the right woman yet. So for now, the occasional fuck-buddy would work just fine.

Cam worked the free weights, pressing as much as he did years earlier. He loved the burn, the time to focus on muscle groups, and the results. A large man, he worked his body like a machine. One that would perform whatever task he called it to.

Swiping a towel from the bench, he wiped his face before slinging the material over his neck. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he headed home, needing a shower and wanting to have time to grab a bite of breakfast before going to work.

Just the thought of work brought a smile to his face. He knew he was a lucky fuck.
Or maybe luck had nothing to do with it
, he thought for the millionth time, seeing the Saint medallion around his neck. His grades in high school had sucked but he attended Richland Community College and earned an Associate’s degree. He started out as a business major, only because he could not think of anything else that interested him, until he met another man at the gym one morning who was in police science.
Police Science—who would have ever thought that would have interested me?

Changing majors, he graduated with honors, was accepted into the police academy and worked his way up the police force, finally taking on an undercover operation bringing down a local gang that was making inroads with a national gang.

Last year, his cover had been blown after two years, but the operation was successful. Working undercover had been rewarding, but difficult. And a man his size was too easily recognizable.
I needed a change.
Through his contacts, he met his new boss. Jack Bryant.

Jack’s business, Saints Protection & Investigations, was just what Cam had been looking for. A former Special Forces soldier, Jack had brought together a team of men from various backgrounds, including DEA, SEAL, CIA, FBI, weapons and explosive experts, using their combined specialties for a security business that flew under the radar. Private and government contracts provided lucrative enticements but every one of the seven men who were Jack’s elite would have done their jobs for a lot less money. The chance to investigate crimes and protect, without the bureaucratic bullshit that hampered each of them in the past? Pure gold.

Opening the door,
he stepped into his house, tossed his gym bag onto the floor, and immediately walked toward the bedroom, heading to the shower.

“Oh, so you’re here now?” Lisa’s sarcastic voice called out.

“What?” he asked, passing by her as he pulled off his sweaty t-shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket.

“
What
? All you can say is
what
?” She stood, her hands on her hips, foot tapping and a glare on her face.

He looked at her stance. Long hair pulled severely into a neat twist at the back of her neck. Designer clothes from blouse to heels. Perfectly applied makeup. There was a time when he would have tried to placate her, but this was not the time. The Saints had been working around the clock on their latest mission and Lisa’s hissy-fit no longer mattered. Heaving a huge sigh, he should have known their fuck-buddy relationship was not going to last much longer. A beautiful woman with a business in D.C., Lisa would see him every time she was in town and recently that had been more often.

“Cam, seriously? I got in late last night and I only have a few hours. You’re gone when I wake up and,” she hesitated as her nose wrinkled up, “you’re all sweaty.” Cocking her hip out further, she demanded, “I want to know when you’re going to focus on me.”

He hung his head for a moment, counting to ten as Father Martinez had taught him to quiet his temper. Sucking in a huge breath, he let it out slowly before lifting his head and staring directly at her.

“Lisa, I go to the gym almost every morning. I’m working on a case and need that time to get my head in the game. I’ve got just enough time to shower, grab a bite and pick up a co-worker on the way to work. What I don’t have time for is this shit. What about that do you not understand?”

She reared back as though slapped. “Shit? That’s what we are?”

“You know exactly what we are, Lisa. We’re convenient. You come into town and if our schedules allow, we have a few laughs, fuck, and then you head back out again. Since that’s all we’ve ever been, why are you surprised?”

“I changed my hours because of you!” she yelled. “I thought we were going somewhere. I was even thinking of moving my office here, but you’re never here either. I want a man that’ll be here for me.”

“You know my job, Lisa. I’m not a nine-to-five kind of man. And even if I was, we were never going to be more than what we are now.”

“You could change jobs. You could even work security for my company,” she said, desperation creeping into her voice.

Sighing deeply again, he walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. Shaking his head, he reiterated, “That’s not me and I’m not giving up me to fit into your world. I liked what we had but that’s all of me you will get.”

Jerking out of his hands, she stepped back, anger twisting her expression. “Fine. Then I’ll say goodbye, Cam. And when I say goodbye, I mean goodbye. You’re losing the best thing that could ever happen to you.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to refute her claim, but he kept quiet. As the front door slammed, he headed into the shower, his only regret—he was going to miss breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, swinging into his SUV, he headed toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. Jack’s business, Saints Protection & Investigations, was just what Cam had been looking for. He felt as though his whole life up to now had been preparing him for the work he did for Jack. And if he occasionally needed to use his former breaking and entering skills…so much the better.

Picking up Bart, one of the other Saints, he continued toward the compound. A former SEAL, Bart was as tall as Cam, just as muscular, but had sandy hair paired with Hollywood looks that got him noticed by women wherever they went. Bart leaned back in the seat, exhaustion replacing his usual grin.

Looking over at his passenger, Cam remarked, “You look like hell.”

Shaking his head, Bart replied, “This case is getting to me. I was out the last three days and just when I think we’re getting closer, my leads are goin’ nowhere.”

The two men fell silent, their thoughts on the ongoing case that they had been working—a serial killer known as the Campus Killer. Pulling into the driveway after entering through the security gate, they watched the fall leaves on the trees glide by as they made their way down the long path toward Jack’s house.

Jack built a huge home on his twenty-six acres that backed to the Blue Ridge Mountains. From the outside, the structure appeared to be a luxury cabin. But underneath the house and four-car garage was the command center of the Saints.

As they parked in front, they saw the other trucks and SUVs of their co-workers and in-between was a small, old sedan.

“She’s here,” Bart said, his mouth already watering. “I wonder what she’s brought?”

Cam laughed but knew his reaction was the same. Bethany Bridwell, the beautiful owner of the rental cabin property next door had caught the eye of Jack and started coming over occasionally. And when she did, she brought something she had baked and always brought enough to feed all eight men.

The two men hustled in, finding the others in the kitchen, all with plates in front of them and the scent of apples and cinnamon wafting through the air.

“You’d better have left some for me,” Bart warned as he pushed his way toward the counter with Cam on his heels.

Bethany laughed as she dished out more of the homemade apple cobbler onto two more plates. “Of course I have some left,” she replied. Her thick, blonde hair was pulled into a simple ponytail. Makeup-free face, faded jeans and tank-top completed her ensemble.

After his morning with Lisa, Cam appreciated Bethany’s fresh appearance…and her cobbler. The group of men, all over six feet tall, dwarfed her on all sides. Her eyes found Jack’s and a smile filled her expression.

Cam noticed she smiled most of the time, but when she gazed at Jack she actually beamed. And he had to admit, so did his boss.
Nice. They deserve that.
He knew that Jack had been battling his feelings for the beautiful Ms. Bridwell, saying that his lifestyle and business just would not be conducive to a relationship. But it was obvious—these two belonged together.

The last man to arrive was Marc, a former CIA operative and the group’s pilot. Tall, lean with a powerful body, he came in from his morning run, pulling a shirt on as he entered the room. His dark hair still wet only exemplified his piercing blue eyes. Apologizing to Bethany for his appearance, he grabbed the last piece of cobbler before nodding to Jack. The Saints began moving out of the room while Jack walked Bethany to her car.

“You think Jack’s really going to go for it?” Chad asked, hope in his eyes that their boss would give the relationship a chance. The former ATF explosions expert was a romantic at heart.

“Hell, if he doesn’t, we’re all doomed,” Blaise joked, halfheartedly. “It’s not like any of us are in careers that very many women can deal with.”