purple, white, and pink carnations and weeping hyacinths—no doubt Aunt Sadie’s doing. Gothic, burgundy calla lilies lined the front (Jenny’s attempt, maybe, to remind her Aunt Sadie that this was a funeral , not a rainforest). With every step, Cami’s heart fluttered harder in her chest, making her break into a sweat. She could see her mother’s face, small nose, cream-white skin. Her hair, tied back tightly in a bun—
Cami dashed out of the church. She turned and just started running; her shoes clicked unevenly on the hard floor. She heard Jayce say her name as she shoved past him, but she didn’t stop. She burst through the heavy church doors and bent over with her hands on her knees, catching her breath. She felt dizzy, sleepless, like she might be sick. There was that man-bear in the back of her mind again, that reopened fear that made her quiver all over—
A hand on her shoulder. Cami whipped around and then let out a sigh of frustration. “Jesus, Jayce, you can’t—”
“You want to get out of here?” he asked. Big, puppy dog eyes.
She nodded. Her mouth felt dry. “Please.”
Chapter 10
Cami’s migraine was so deafening, she didn’t even hear the growl of Jayce’s Camaro cut short.
“We’re here,” Jayce said, snapping her out of it.
“Oh. Thanks.” Distracted, Cami started to untangle herself from her seatbelt.
“Do you want me to come in?” Jayce’s eyes were soft, full of concern.
Any other day, she’d say fuck yes and ride him six ways to Sunday. Right now, her head felt like it was going to split in two.
Plus, there was the whole matter of the man-bear sprawled across her kitchen table.
She shook her head then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “Thanks for the ride,” she said and got out, shutting his car door behind him.
By time Cami unlocked the door and got inside, Marcus had already moved from his place on the table, mobile. Looking human . Even put on a pair of loose grey pants (to her disappointment, she realized. It made a nice centerpiece). He was crouched over the fireplace, poking at the flames. It had risen to a nice low burn. His radio—propped up on the mantelpiece—crooned lightly.
“Hey,” he said when his eyes met hers, his voice low.
She dropped her purse on the couch. “You’re alive.”
He nodded. “Seems so.”
He was quieter, lacked his stubborn and blunt aggression. She couldn’t blame him for being awkward, not really. It was probably his attempt at being soft with her, after the past twenty-four hours. Attacked by a grizzly. Saved by a grizzly. Put her estranged mother in the ground. It was more than enough to make her head spin and throb.
“How’s the bandage?” she asked.
His shoulders rolled back when he shrugged. She noticed the muscles of his back flex. “It’s fine.”
When she stepped closer, she could see the dirt-brown stain his dried blood had made on the white cloth. “Let me change it,” she offered. With that, Cami stepped into kitchen and grabbed the gauze tape. The towels were still smattered across the table, one bunched up on the floor, but she’d take care of that later. She didn’t have the energy to deal with something like cleaning . She stepped back into the den and pointed to the couch. “Sit.” He did, wincing as he moved, and she crouched down in front of him and moved her fingers to the bandage, carefully unwrapping it.
“Did your mother teach you to do this?” he asked.
Now it was Cami’s turn to shrug. “Yeah. A little.”
A silence lapsed between them, filled by the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of something jazzy on the radio. The bullet wound still looked bad , dark and angry, but at least the webs of black surrounding it had faded somewhat. She started to unfurl a few strip of gauze and said, “I want answers.”
He exhaled. Tempered. “You could just go home, you know,” he said. “Forget about all of this.”
“And who would take care of you?” she
Cami dashed out of the church. She turned and just started running; her shoes clicked unevenly on the hard floor. She heard Jayce say her name as she shoved past him, but she didn’t stop. She burst through the heavy church doors and bent over with her hands on her knees, catching her breath. She felt dizzy, sleepless, like she might be sick. There was that man-bear in the back of her mind again, that reopened fear that made her quiver all over—
A hand on her shoulder. Cami whipped around and then let out a sigh of frustration. “Jesus, Jayce, you can’t—”
“You want to get out of here?” he asked. Big, puppy dog eyes.
She nodded. Her mouth felt dry. “Please.”
Chapter 10
Cami’s migraine was so deafening, she didn’t even hear the growl of Jayce’s Camaro cut short.
“We’re here,” Jayce said, snapping her out of it.
“Oh. Thanks.” Distracted, Cami started to untangle herself from her seatbelt.
“Do you want me to come in?” Jayce’s eyes were soft, full of concern.
Any other day, she’d say fuck yes and ride him six ways to Sunday. Right now, her head felt like it was going to split in two.
Plus, there was the whole matter of the man-bear sprawled across her kitchen table.
She shook her head then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “Thanks for the ride,” she said and got out, shutting his car door behind him.
By time Cami unlocked the door and got inside, Marcus had already moved from his place on the table, mobile. Looking human . Even put on a pair of loose grey pants (to her disappointment, she realized. It made a nice centerpiece). He was crouched over the fireplace, poking at the flames. It had risen to a nice low burn. His radio—propped up on the mantelpiece—crooned lightly.
“Hey,” he said when his eyes met hers, his voice low.
She dropped her purse on the couch. “You’re alive.”
He nodded. “Seems so.”
He was quieter, lacked his stubborn and blunt aggression. She couldn’t blame him for being awkward, not really. It was probably his attempt at being soft with her, after the past twenty-four hours. Attacked by a grizzly. Saved by a grizzly. Put her estranged mother in the ground. It was more than enough to make her head spin and throb.
“How’s the bandage?” she asked.
His shoulders rolled back when he shrugged. She noticed the muscles of his back flex. “It’s fine.”
When she stepped closer, she could see the dirt-brown stain his dried blood had made on the white cloth. “Let me change it,” she offered. With that, Cami stepped into kitchen and grabbed the gauze tape. The towels were still smattered across the table, one bunched up on the floor, but she’d take care of that later. She didn’t have the energy to deal with something like cleaning . She stepped back into the den and pointed to the couch. “Sit.” He did, wincing as he moved, and she crouched down in front of him and moved her fingers to the bandage, carefully unwrapping it.
“Did your mother teach you to do this?” he asked.
Now it was Cami’s turn to shrug. “Yeah. A little.”
A silence lapsed between them, filled by the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of something jazzy on the radio. The bullet wound still looked bad , dark and angry, but at least the webs of black surrounding it had faded somewhat. She started to unfurl a few strip of gauze and said, “I want answers.”
He exhaled. Tempered. “You could just go home, you know,” he said. “Forget about all of this.”
“And who would take care of you?” she
Similar Books
