The Killer's New Obsession - Page 14

In theory, I had a chance. My parents had some money and stable jobs, even if they were only good at faking it, and beneath the calm exterior there was rot threatening to drown us all. But nobody ever saw that, nobody except for Cam.

He was the only person that understood me. I wanted so much from him and he never let me down—until the day he decided to join the Valentino family.

He broke my heart. I told him joining the mafia was too far, that I couldn’t be friends with him if he went down that road. He refused to discuss it with me, refused to ever talk about it, and one day he ruined everything.

I wanted better for him, even if I was cursed to something worse. Instead, he traveled the same path I was destined for, and it broke me up inside.

“What if I paid you to stay here?” he asked softly.

I leaned back against the couch and stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “I’ll give you five thousand for every week you stay here, twenty thousand per month. All you have to do is sleep on my couch and get your shit together.”

“I have my shit together,” I said, standing up. I paced across the room, boiling with anger—and temptation.

That kind of money could change things for me. One month here and I could afford my own apartment. I could get a job, figure out how to live like a normal person, get the hell off the streets. I could have the life I’d always wanted.

And all I had to do was give up my freedom to Cam.

“I’m not saying you don’t,” he said. “But you’re homeless and I’m not going to let you drift forever.”

“You didn’t give a shit before,” I said, glaring at him. “Where were you two months ago when I was trying to sleep outside in the rain?”

He grimaced and looked down at his hands. “I should’ve found you sooner,” he said softly. “You’re right. But I’m not going to make the same mistakes.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Cam,” I said and the edge of anger softened somewhat. He really did meant it—he thought that it was his own failure that kept me from him, instead of my own stupid stubbornness.

He didn’t see how broken I was. He never did quite see that.

“Stay with me,” he said. “I’ll pay you. I’ll buy you clothes, food, whatever you want. Hell, I’ll even decorate this place if it’ll make you happy.”

I snorted and looked around. “It is a little barren.”

“Go nuts. Buy some shit for the walls. Get some little statues and hang shelves, I don’t care. But stay here with me.”

I crossed my arms and looked away from him, over toward the back window where the city light shattered up against the stark white blinds. Outside, the world moved past us, and I thought of everyone I knew on the streets, the few friends I had that helped me survive. Larry with his thick black beard and wild smile and paranoia; Janine, turning tricks, missing a molar, laughing so loudly it must’ve hurt her throat; Simon and his perpetual limp and crack addiction. And so many other drifters that flitted in and out of my life, so many people that helped.

I wondered how many of them would kill for a chance like this. Probably all of them. Though you didn’t end up on the street for no good reason. Most people on the street either wanted to be there, or couldn’t be anywhere else.

I didn’t know which one I was.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally. “I don’t want your money, but I do like the idea of having a roof over my head for a while.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said. “Think about it while we get this shit with Ronan figured out. The offer will always be there, if you decide to leave. I’m not going to give up on you.” He slowly stood up and stretched his neck. “Now, there’s one more thing we’ve got to talk about.”

I took a step away from him. “What’s that?” I asked, suddenly wary. I didn’t love the way he stared at me with a predatory glare.

“USB sticks,” he said.

And those word sent my spine tingling.

“You asshole,” I whispered. “You followed me.”

“Damn right I did,” he said, suddenly angry. “What the hell were you thinking, Irene? You kept whatever you took from him?”

“I hid it,” I snapped. “I didn’t mean to grab those USB things, those were an accident. I just wanted the cash.”

“Ronan wouldn’t kill you over a few hundred dollars,” Cam said. “Whatever’s on those USB sticks must be serious.” He paced back and forth, scratching at his neck, and I wanted to scream at him.

I felt betrayed, but I should’ve seen this coming. He didn’t trust me yet, and I couldn’t blame him. Obviously, he was right, something important was on those sticks, and I didn’t know what it could possibly be.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance
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