Camden shook his head and lost the battle to suppress a smile. "It does sound a little odd." He uncrossed his arms and leaned closer to her, revealing his beautifully sculpted chest.
Try as she might, Rayne couldn't stop her eyes from darting across the smooth, taut skin, to the black tribal art starting from somewhere below the waistline of his pants and twisting up his body, across his ribcage and continuing over his shoulder to connect with the one she saw on his back earlier. She bit her lip hard enough to remind herself that he was trouble. When she finally managed to drag her eyes back to his, his face contorted in a cocky smirk.
Dammit.
He'd caught her staring. Well, admiring, really.
His expression softened slightly. "What other choice do you have, Rayne?" he asked quietly.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ugly cream tile of her kitchen floor in thought. Before she knew it, he'd leaned even closer and his mouth was a few inches from her ear. She froze, immediately aware of his proximity. His warm breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine and his masculine scent assaulted her senses in the best way possible. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was afraid to move. She wasn't sure if it was because he was so close, or because she was afraid he might back away.
"You're just going to have to trust me." His husky voice came out just above a whisper and the moist air bombarding her already tingling skin was more than she could take.
Quickly, she jerked away from him and took a few steps to ball her fists at her sides. She growled in frustration before stomping off down the hall and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Leaning over the porcelain sink, one hand on each side supporting most of her weight, she took a few deep breaths and tried to steady her pounding heart.
What is wrong with me? How could I let a complete stranger affect me so much?
She looked in the mirror. Auburn curls hung around her face and cascaded over her shoulders in a wave of ringlets. At least the dark circles that had been plaguing her were mostly, if not all gone. Last night's sleep must have been better than she thought.
She shook her head and forcefully pushed herself away from the lavatory. She knew it was absurd, but he was right. She had to trust him. She didn't know what was going on and was tired of hiding in her house like a dog with its tail between its legs. If Camden was the only way to solve this, then she would just have to go with it.
Turning the faucet on, she ran her hands under the warm water and splashed it on her face, hoping it would help clear her mind, but it was useless. Her mind rambled through her earliest memories, searching for anything that would shed some light.
It had been just her and her mother for as long as she could remember. She never met her father. Hell, she never even knew his name. She was born in Seattle, Washington, and the two of them had lived with her grandfather. He was an accountant or something for some big pharmaceutical company, so he worked a lot and was gone quite a bit. What memories she had of him were fond: playing outside the house with him, walking through the trees, but that was all before she had gotten sick.
At five years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Medicine in the early nineties was good, but for her particular case, there was nothing they could do. Every doctor who looked at her had said that it was hopeless. Even if she could survive the harshness of the treatments, there was an eighty-five percent chance that it wouldn't work. Her disease was too far progressed, and irreversible damage had been done. At that point, everyone had given up hope.
Both her mother and grandfather had taken the news badly. Her mother slipped into depression and spent her days caring for her sick child. Her grandfather? Most nights he wouldn't even come home after that. No one knew what he was doing, but they all assumed it was just too hard for him.
She did have one distinct memory of him reading to her, though: The Trojan Horse. He loved classic writings and often shared them with her, but that time had been different. She remembered him kneeling and patting her hand.
"Hold still, Rayne, this is only going to sting a little."
She remembered the needle, but not the sting he was talking about. After that, it all seemed to go black. It must have been a sedative to help her relax.
Shortly after, a fight broke out, and Rayne and her mother had packed their things and moved to Oregon. She was still sick, but beginning to show some improvement. A few months later, she felt as though nothing had ever been wrong at all. Her mother took her back to the doctor and something miraculous had happened: Her leukemia was gone, all of it! There was not a trace of the disease to be found.
No one could believe or understand it. This little girl had been knocking on death's door just a short while ago, and then all of her bloodwork was one hundred percent normal. Doctors across the state were dumbfounded and amazed.
A few weeks passed, and her mother received a call stating that her grandfather's house had burned to the ground with him inside.
They went back for the funeral and decided to stay. The two had been on their own ever since. It was modest life, but they were ok with that. Her mother worked as a receptionist at a medical facility and Rayne attended public school, which was where she met Layla. She graduated at the top of her class and received a full scholarship to Washington State.
But then, her mother had gotten sick. It was discovered that she had an advanced form of bone cancer and didn't respond to any of the treatments. Rayne turned down everything and put her life on hold, just as her mother had done for her. She cared for the only person she had left in the world as if her life depended on it, and she often felt as though it did.
Then, five years ago, just two short years after her diagnosis, her mother passed away.
And that was the story of her life.
A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and dried her hands on the towel hanging near the shower.
She looked at herself in the mirror, searching for the strong girl she’d been then. She’d survived so much already and knew that this would be no different. Sometimes suffering and hardships were just a part of life. It was what made a person appreciate the good things and made them stronger and better in the long run of things.
Rayne knew what she had to do. She was going to shower, pack a bag, and follow Camden wherever he was taking her. She was going to make sure she got to the bottom of this mess. She was taking back her life.
Chapter 5
A shower, packing, and one conversation with a very unhappy Layla later, Rayne leaned her head against the cushiony first-class seat of Southern Scapes Airways Flight 112 from Seattle, Washington to Alexandria, Louisiana. She still couldn't figure out why Camden hadn't told her where they were going when she was going to find out at the airport, anyway. However, he had been insistent and didn't tell her. She had to read it on her ticket.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, surprised at how calm she was. First class was nice, but that didn't take away the fact that she was afraid of flying. She hated it. So much so, that she made Camden take the window seat. She didn't want to be able to see the ground as she plummeted to her death.
The passing stewardess paused at her seat with the drink cart, the wheels rattling as she stopped. It was just enough to pull her from her thoughts.
"Would you like something to drink?”
Rayne looked into the woman's face and was reminded of her boss, Karla. The stewardess wore too much makeup, and you could practically smell the hairspray fumes wafting from her. She fought a snicker. "No thank you," she managed to squeak out.
As the stewardess continued on down the aisle, Rayne glanced to Camden, who was staring out the window. He was wearing sunglasses, even though it wasn't bright, and from what she could tell, he was deep in thought. He'd refused to take off the glasses even after they boarded. Apparently, according to him, his eyes were very light sensitive, and they helped.
Personally, she thought he was hiding something, or maybe hiding from someone. She shrugged off the thought and looked down at her hands, folded over her blue-jean clad legs. "So, Louisiana, huh?"
He turned from the window and nodded, trying but failing to suppress a smile. "What was the giveaway?"
She shrugged and placed her hand on her chin in a mockingly thoughtful gesture. "Oh, I don't know. It couldn't have been the ticket I had to carry for a mile through the airport, or the huge flashing sign when we made it to our terminal. Oh, or the captain announcing it over the intercom before we took off."
Camden rolled his eyes and chuckled.
Rayne couldn't hold back her smile. Ever since she'd made up her mind earlier that morning to go through with this and trust him, she'd felt more at ease. She wasn't sure why, but she did. Maybe she had more faith in him than she thought.
She glanced at him and wished he would take off those annoying shades. He was hard enough to read as it was. The glasses certainly didn't help. "In all seriousness," she began quietly, her expression changing, "how much danger am I really in?"
As if he could read her thoughts, Camden reached up and removed the lenses, revealing those spectacular blue eyes she found she was quite fond of. He ran his hand through his hair, forcing it in every direction and leaving it messy and untamed.
Blue and emerald met for one electrified moment, sending a shiver down her spine that spread across her skin like a tingling wildfire.
"I'll tell you this," he said, inhaling deeply and neatly folding the glasses. He knew that he wasn't supposed to reveal anything, but she'd been left in the dark for too long already. She was going to find out soon enough, anyway. "All I know is that when you were sick, Martin, I mean your grandfather, gave you an injection," he began.
Rayne nodded. She remembered it. In fact, she'd dreamed about it not too long ago.
"It was an experimental medicine the company he worked for was developing. It was to be a cure for certain types of cancers, the ones that affect the blood." Camden squinted and rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing.
She listened intently and her heartbeat increased.
Am I finally going to get some answers
? Turning toward him, she gave Camden her full attention and held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
"The company was denied human trials, so they were destroying everything they had and going back to the drawing board on the entire formula. But Harry Schultz, the lead scientist, was convinced it was the true serum, and that it would work."
She was afraid to move, as if even the slightest blink would make him stop.
"Your grandfather knew that it could be your only chance of surviving, so he took the last dose from Dr. Schultz before it was destroyed and gave it to you." He tried to read her, wanted to know what she was thinking at that very moment, but he couldn't. Her face had no expression and she was stone still.
"Your grandfather was so desperate for a way to help you, that he was willing to try anything." He became quiet and stared into the deep green depths of her eyes. He managed to smile before continuing, "It worked Rayne. That's what cured you."
She nodded and looked down at her hands. Was she really hearing this? Her grandfather had really given her something that he knew nothing about, and didn't know how she would react to it? Granted, she had been marked for death already and very nearly knocking on its door, but what if it hadn't helped? What did he know then that she wasn't understanding now? She inhaled deeply and ran her fingers through her long auburn curls in an attempt to keep her mind from overheating.
As if the last few days weren't enough, let's add all this in, too.
There was a giant puzzle floating around inside her head and she couldn't quite see the pieces clearly enough to put them together. It was incredibly frustrating. "So what does all that have to do with now?" she asked, letting her hands drop into her lap where she fidgeted with the hem of her blue T-shirt.
After a short pause, Camden was hesitant to continue. He so wanted to know what was going on inside that beautiful head of hers. He wished that just for a moment, her mask would crack and give him a glimpse of her true feelings and not just what she wanted him to see. "No one knew the formula wouldn't kill you, let alone cure you. But since they were denied human trials, it was illegal for him to use it. So they had to keep it hush-hush."
She shook her head and gave him a confused look. "Sure, but that doesn't tell me what it has to do with now."
He held up a hand. "Let me explain."
She furrowed her eyebrows, but listened intently.
"Apparently, Schultz couldn't keep his mouth shut and told a few scientists in his network of colleagues. Even went as far as to give them your grandfather’s name." He shook his head. "It wasn't long after that, Schultz was killed in a ‘mugging.’" He made air quotes with his fingers. "I think the wrong person caught wind of it and wanted to take credit for his creation, recreate the formula, and distribute it, but that's just an outsider looking in."
He shrugged and glanced out the window. An overhead
ding
signaled the seat belt sign, and the captain’s voice rang throughout the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Alexandria, Louisiana. Please put away all of your electronic devices and return your trays and seat backs to their original, upright positions." There was a crackling of static before he continued, "The weather is currently seventy-two degrees and sunny. Enjoy your day, and as always, thank you for flying Southern Scapes."
Rayne let her mind drift from the conversation at hand and rolled her eyes. Pilots’ voices always reminded her of game show hosts. They were overly cheery all the time and had to emphasize every single word.
She turned back to see Camden staring at her. "What?" she asked, rubbing her cheeks. "Do I have something on my face?"