Seductive Shadows (30 page)

Before the limo came to a stop three blocks from my apartment, I gave him the answer he wanted. I would allow him to help me, to attempt to spare my life, to leave everything and everyone I knew, and I accepted the plan he had put together with a few requests of my own. The way he described the alternative, I would be dead within a week so I really didn’t have a choice. I had one more day left in the city, one final shift at the mansion, and then I would be boarding a private plane.

I didn’t call Cameron to let him know I was on my way over, and I didn’t send him a text. I couldn’t risk using the phone that belonged to
them
. It would be safest to just show up at his place instead. I took a quick shower, tied my wet hair in a knot, and threw on the same outfit that I had worn the night before. I wouldn’t be returning to my apartment, so I grabbed a small bag and packed Lilly’s sweater, a few of my paintbrushes and a change of clothes.

I stood at the call box outside of Cameron’s building and buzzed his studio, holding my breath and hoping he’d be either there or in his apartment, and not on campus.

His reassuring voice came through the intercom. “Hello?”

I exhaled relief. “Cameron...it’s me.”

“Charlie?” He sounded surprised. “I’ll buzz you in.”

I had tossed and turned for hours, trying to prepare for this moment. But it was impossible. I couldn’t lie in my bed dwelling on it anymore. I had to get it over with.

The Doctor had tried to talk me out of doing it at all; a good-bye wasn’t in my best interest, given the situation. I could tell he’d been concerned that I’d give away too much about the mansion. But all I wanted to do was tell Cameron the truth about me. I needed him to hear it before I disappeared, before I fled. I needed him to know that I might never be coming back. I needed to see him one more time.

The elevator door slid open. I found him in the center of the studio with a brush in his hand and a canvas in front of him. An overhead light shone directly on him, the sunrise not yet filling the entire space with pink glow. He wore a pair of paint-stained jeans and no shirt; his magnificent tattoo was in full view, spreading across his back, embracing his shoulders and caressing his scars. He’d always painted fully clothed when we worked together. His bare flesh, his exposed wounds brought a new level of intimacy and honesty to his art, as if he were pouring himself into the fiber of the canvas. I moved to his side, taking in his work. This was a new piece, one I hadn’t seen until now. It was nothing like his usual style. It wasn’t abstract, wasn’t filled with color.

It was
us.

A black and white image of my naked back adorned his canvas, my shoulder blades protruding slightly, the two side-by-side freckles an inch past where my bra strap would have been had he not painted me nude. The top of my ass rested at the bottom of the canvas and my legs were wrapped around an image of him. His tattooed arms were crossed and bound around me; his head was tucked into my neck, and mine was nestled into his. He hadn’t included our faces. He didn’t need to. There was so much emotion in the image of just our bodies. It was pure and raw and real.

I couldn’t pull my eyes from it. “You’re giving me your strength,” I said.

He turned toward me. “You need it.”

He was right.

He looked tired. “Have you been up all night?” I asked.

The tip of his fingers touched my waist. “Come here.”

I couldn’t fight his words, his pull. I didn’t want to. I took a small step as he drew me into his bare arms and held me with his face buried in my neck. He matched the painting.

With every breath he exhaled, the resolve that had grown in me on my way over seemed to diminish a little more. I wanted to give him me—
all
of me. To have him carry me across the hall, to become entangled in his legs...

But I hadn’t come here for this. I’d come to tell him the truth.

That’s exactly what I would do.

Just one minute more.

I pushed my nose into his chest, pressing my lips against the inked script and the scars beneath, grazing over the softness of skin. He smelled of salt, of a full night’s work, sensual and inviting. It was a scent I could inhale every day and never grow tired of. Heat poured from him, spilling out of his mouth as he breathed into my shoulder. His fingers tightened around me and began to glide down my shoulders, past my bra and down my spine, coming to rest against the small of my back.

I could have easily lost myself, shut off every thought and worry. But I pulled myself out of his arms before I let that happen. “I have to talk to you. It’s important.” I took a step back, but I reached for his hand and held it tightly.

“I figured.”

I led him over to the couch, my fingers still wrapped around his. I sat beside him and stared into his eyes. The baby blue that I had grown so comfortable with beamed back at me. I wondered how I would ever find comfort like it again.

Emma’s death had almost broken me, and I knew the pain would be just as devastating when I lost Cameron, too. It was the greater part of why I hadn’t allowed Dallas into my heart. I’d never wanted to feel this way again. But now, I couldn’t help it.

“I told you that one day I’d share everything with you—my darkness, and the things in my life that I needed to straighten out.” My breath quickened. I’d practiced it all in my head, but that felt nothing like this. I had a hard time holding his stare; it was too intense, too adoring. I didn’t want my words to change that, though I knew there was no way for them not to. “For the last four months, I’ve been working…” I chose carefully. “…as a prostitute. In a…brothel.” That word sounded so odd, so small and harmless compared to what the mansion truly was. I left no room for him to respond. “The job was offered to me and I needed the money…and an escape from my life, as it was at the time.
Why
I went to work there is…complicated. There’s so much behind it.” Everything inside me cringed as I heard the words leave my mouth. The sound of the truth was so ugly. My actions had been even worse.

What the hell was wrong with me? Why had I ever said yes to
them
?

“And then…you happened. And I wanted to stop. I wanted to leave it behind. I couldn’t give myself to you when I was still giving myself to them, or to anyone else. I couldn’t be that or do that anymore. Not to me. Not to you.” My stare had moved from the floor to my feet and then to my hands. I finally looked up and in his direction. I couldn’t read his expression, his posture. I couldn’t read
him
.

I reached for him, putting my hand on his forearm. He didn’t pull away, or flinch. His unreadable expression remained.

“Say something,” I pleaded. “Please.”

He was quiet for a second more. “I’m...not sure what to say, Charlie. You say you
wanted
to stop, to leave it behind...is there something you’re not saying here?”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I wanted to quit—I
chose
to quit—but it turns out that isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. They cater to a very specialized clientele, and…” The next words came out much more slowly. I understood why the Doctor had wanted to keep the gritty details of the mansion from me. And I was going to keep them from Cameron for the same reasons. His knowing the horrifying truth about what really went on there wouldn’t help anything. Ultimately, it could come to hurt him. “I know too much about their operation. They’re not willing to let me walk away. So I’m not going to walk; I’m going to run. And my father is going to help me.”

Even without the gruesome details, the story sounded insane. Cameron and I had known each other for quite a while now, but we’d never done anything more than kiss. And now he was finding out not only that I was a prostitute, but that my life was in danger because of it, and I was fleeing for my own safety. I wasn’t sure I’d have believed it if I had been the one listening.

He stayed calm. “And where will you be going?”

“I don’t know. He has a plan.”

“You don’t know his plan...but you’re definitely going?”

He wasn’t just asking for details; he was questioning my decision. I released his hands, tucked my knees up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them, making myself smaller. Closing myself off. “I don’t have any other choice. If I stay here, they’ll come after me.” I dug my nails into my shins. “I know how far-fetched all of this sounds. You probably think I’m lying here...”

“No,” he answered quickly. “I don’t think you’re lying, Charlie. You don’t have a reason to. But you just met your father…are you sure he’s trustworthy?”

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the Doctor, knowing now how deep he was in the happenings at the mansion. But since finding out my identity, he had done what he could to help me.

I nodded. “I trust him. He really wants the best for me.” His eyes searched my face. “You actually know him.”

“
I
do?”

“He’s bought a few of your paintings. His name is Marvin Luna.”

“The Doctor? The one Professor Freeman speaks so highly of?”

“Yes. That’s him.”

His beautiful eyes showed sadness. “And when are you coming back?”

My heart fluttered. “I don’t know that I am…but I leave tonight.”

“Tonight?”

I nodded. He stood from the couch and paced the floor in front of us, his hands tightening and releasing. “I wanted you to know the truth before I left, wanted to
tell
you about me…I don’t want you to think I’m something I’m not.”

“Charlie…” He walked toward me, his palms pressed into his cheeks. He ran them up to his eyes and over his head. “I don’t know what to say about this. How to think…what to do. But I know I want to help you.”

He deserved so much better than this, better than me.

The Doctor had been afraid of this: that if I told Cameron the truth, or Dallas, if I told them my plans, they would try to help me.

“Cameron.” I stood, and pulled at his arms so his hands landed in mine. “Thank you for wanting to. But you getting involved will only make things more difficult. I have to get myself out of this.”

He never said that he accepted any of what I’d just told him; his expression never showed me that, either. But I knew that because of the way he’d grown up, because of the environment that he’d been forced into, he was a protector. He’d protected his brother; I knew he was trying to do that for me now. He’d told me he could handle my darkness, but a part of me had expected him to be repulsed by my revelation. It would have been easier had that happened. The look on his face wasn’t repulsion, though. It wasn’t disgust or loathing. It was pain, pure and aching. And I was the one who’d caused it.

I wanted so much to be the one who kissed it away.

He shook his head. “You can’t expect me to just let you go when I know how much trouble you’re in.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

The knot in my throat made it difficult to breathe. The familiar heaviness moved into my chest, my gut.

“It’s time for me to go.” As difficult as it was, I pulled my hands out of his grasp. I knew if I kissed him, I would never stop. And if I stayed any longer, I would never leave.

I turned and took a step away from him, and another. I had to get out before my emotions consumed me.

“Charlie, wait,” he said as I reached the door.

I pushed the button on the elevator, felt the heat of him behind me. When I turned around, my face met his chest; his arms circled around my back, and he pulled me into the air. He bound me tightly to him, his skin blazing against me as his lips kissed my cheek. Neither warmed the chill that seized my body, or stilled the quivering in my stomach.

“I need to know you’re going to be OK, wherever you go…wherever you end up. Will you call me, please, or email me…reach out to me however you can? Just to let me know you’ve gotten there, that you’re safe?”

I closed my eyes and held onto his voice, branding it once more into my memory to make sure I would never forget him.

Never forget
home
.

I rubbed my nose over his skin one last time. My heart clenched.

“I’ll try,” I whispered.

I pushed my way out of his arms and rushed into the open elevator, pressing the button for the lobby. I kept my eyes on the ground; I couldn’t look at him again. What I felt, what I wanted…it was all too strong.

I held myself together until the door closed, but once I knew I was alone I filled the space with screams. My chest heaved; my hands trembled. I leaned against the wall, pushing into the metal as though I could make it swallow me whole.

Good-bye, Cameron
.

Those words, those feelings coursed through me as I exited the elevator. It wasn’t until I was safely in a cab, the driver pulling away from the curb, that I let the tears fall. The sobs came quick and hard. They shook my body like I had no core, and my stomach started to churn.

Whatever strength he’d given me was gone now.

The taxi driver announced that we had arrived, and he placed his hand up against the plastic partition. I didn’t remember any of the ride. I didn’t even remember giving him directions, or anything other than a sob leaving my mouth. But we were parked outside the gate of the cemetery and his meter showed my total fare. I tossed some bills onto his palm, and I jumped out of the cab.

Emma had drawn me here.

Newton Cemetery closely resembled the Public Gardens, the park where I had scattered Lilly’s ashes. Although I had never been to any other gravesite and had nothing to compare it to, the grounds were well-maintained and the scenery was soft...soothing, even. The lot the Hunts had chosen for Emma was close to the pond, surrounded by dense trees and circular gardens. The last time I’d been there had been the anniversary of our accident and the flowers had been white and pale yellow. Now, the garden was filled with bright pink blooms.

Emma’s tombstone was engraved with her name, the dates of the eighteen years she had been alive, and the pronouncement that she’d been a loving daughter and sister.
Best friend
had been omitted from the description, which was just as well; she’d been so much more than that to me. Cameron may have reintroduced me to the notion of
home
, but it had originated with Emma.