Crow’s Row (33 page)

I saw Cameron approaching through the cracks in the wood. I recognized the woman next to him as the only female who had been in the meeting room sitting with the other crime bosses. She was tall and slim, with short, dark hair that was tucked behind her ears. She looked like one of those girls that I had seen in my brother’s car magazines—the girls that made any car look fabulous by just standing next to it.

While Cameron leafed through the duffle bag that was on the floor, the woman glanced over the clothes that were stacked on surfaces.

“Are you sleeping in here?” she asked him.

“Sometimes,” he replied, distracted.

He found what he had been looking for and handed it to her—the pink T-shirt that I had found in his drawer the first day I came to the farm.

“You forgot this here,” he said to her as she took the shirt.

The woman kept her eyes on his face.

“She’s still here, isn’t she?”

“Who?”

“That girl who saw you killing one of Shield’s boys in the projects,” she responded.

Cameron squinted, arms crossed. “What makes you think I brought her here?”

“I heard from one of my guys that you took her home with you,” she admitted composedly.

“The board has already ruled on this, Manny. The girl will not be a problem for any of us. I don’t intend on revisiting this issue with you.”

“The board was forced to make a decision without having all the facts. I think that they might be interested to know that the girl is alive and that you’re keeping her here.” Her voice had gone up an octave.

“What are you saying exactly?” he snarled.

Manny immediately became sedate. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She raised her hand and stroked his cheek. I squirmed. “I’m just wondering what interest you have in her.”

He didn’t pull her hand away. “You know we can’t have contact like this when there are other leaders around.”

“Do you love her?” she asked pointedly.

“Of course I don’t love her,” Cameron told her without skipping a beat.

I felt the gash in my heart rip open again.

“Then why is she here?” she demanded. “I thought I was the only one who you would ever bring here.”

Cameron sighed like I had heard him sigh so many times with me. “I’m just bored right now, Manny. I need something to play with, to keep me busy. When I’m done, I’ll get rid of her.”

“Well, hurry up and be done with her. I miss you. I want to be with you again,” she whined.

Manny leaned in and kissed him, on the mouth. His body was tensed, and he let her kiss him. I couldn’t breathe, even after he had finally pushed her away.

His voice was softer now. “It was a onetime mistake that will never happen again. I can’t show bias for one boss over the other.”

Spider came back inside, empty-handed and patiently waiting for Cameron by the closed trick door. With an indifferent head nod, Cameron motioned to Manny to get out. Resigned, Manny followed Cameron’s order and walked out. After Spider peeped through the eyehole, all three stepped back through the passageway—and I was left hiding alone under a desk, shaking, beaten.

I fought back tears.

Then I ran out the door.

I followed the dirt line back through the woods, falling at least twice. I ran out at the other end without stopping or looking to see if the guard was back at his post. In a split second, I thought that he probably wouldn’t rat me out if he did see me—otherwise he would have had to admit to Spider that he had let me through in the first place. Even if he did rat me out, I didn’t care—either way, I was dead. Cameron had confirmed this himself. What I did, or didn’t do, didn’t matter anymore. It had never mattered. I was just a pawn in Cameron’s twisted game.

I ran straight to my room and plopped myself onto the bed. My teeth and my fists were tightly clenched and a few tears started escaping.

 Chapter Eighteen:
 Heated Moments

When Rocco came knocking on my door, I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand before he came limping in.

While I leaned against the wall with my knees tucked into my chest, we sat in uncomfortable silence.

He eyed me and finally asked the question that was bugging him. “Em, is everything okay? You look really awful.”

Only Rocco could find a way to critique my appearance on the worse day of my life.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Are you sure? Because you look really pale—even more than normal.” He thought about it, suddenly looked deathly afraid and pushed himself down to the foot of the bed, as far away from me as possible. “You’re not going to throw up are you?”

I did feel like I was going to throw up, but I didn’t tell him this. “Really, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

He exhaled. “Good, ’cause if you’re going to puke again, I’m outta here.”

He convinced me to watch a movie with him. I must have looked really dreadful, because he let me pick the movie.

Even if Rocco spent most of the time under the influence of his rainbow medication and sleeping with his head bent back and his mouth wide open, here, huddled head-to-toe on the couch in Cameron’s room with Rocco’s big feet stuck behind my back, it was easy to feel safe. Though the pain in my heart was still very much throbbing, the feelings of helplessness, of isolation dissipated with every drop of Rocco’s drool that hit the throw pillow. He had no idea of the turmoil that bubbled inside me, and I was thankful for this. His obliviousness, at least, would remain unspoiled. I imagined that I would have liked to have a little brother like Rocco, even if he was bigger than me and a total slob.

When my mind had quieted and I could think without interruptions from me, I pushed myself to concentrate on making sense of it all. Cameron wasn’t just a drug dealer or a crime boss; he was the big boss and led most, if not all, crime bosses in the United States. And there was no doubt in my mind that I loved him, no matter who or what he was, no matter what he said. This made it all the more painful. Last, I was still alive, because Cameron wanted it this way, because he was bored, because he was looking for fun. Whether Griff was still alive … I had my doubts, though I couldn’t be sure … theories were too terrifying, too crippling.

How did I get myself in this situation?

I remembered the person I had been back in Callister. Cautious. Removed. Invisible. Parts of an armor that had taken me years to erect; parts of an armor that had too quickly fallen away the day I had met Cameron … there was no point in trying to find an answer to the question—the damage was already done.

This led me to my next question—could I do anything about it? Could I fight back? Cameron hadn’t let his guard down—everything he did was with purpose. Earlier that day, I had halfheartedly accused him of being like my parents. This comparison had been more accurate than I thought it had been, even if Cameron, like Carly, seemed to have some preconceived notion that his world was so different from mine. But our worlds were not so different. Yes, I could fight back … after years of practice with my parents, I knew how to deal with their kind.

I didn’t know if it was Rocco’s allied presence, or the headache that had slowly grown into a massive migraine, or just the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day, but my grief had turned to anger, and I was getting angrier as the hours rolled by. By the time the sun set and the sound of the board of directors’ car stereos dissipated into the distance, the steam was practically coming out of my ears. I spent the next minutes anxiously listening, half-hoping that Cameron would show his face, half-hoping that I would wake up and find that all of this had been a dream—some of it really good, some of it nightmarish.

One of my desires was realized when I heard the front door slam shut and stomps hastening up the stairs. My heart and head pounded riotously. I immediately got up, marched to the bed, and rigidly sat. I faced the door and geared up for combat. Cameron thrust the door open and entered the battlefield. His eyes were fierce and wild, like a caged animal set loose—his war face looked much more daunting than mine.

I shrank back, realizing that my plan for an ambush had been crushed.

I attempted to regroup while Cameron furiously looked at me then glanced around the room. He spied Rocco, who was sleeping on the couch. “Rocco, get out,” he ordered madly.

Rocco didn’t move.

“Rocco!” Cameron shouted like I had never heard him shout before.

Rocco’s torso snapped up instinctively. “What?” he yelled back with annoyance.

“Get up and get out,” Cameron repeated, regaining his calm voice. He was glaring at me, breathing through his nostrils.

“Why? What’s going on?” Rocco looked at me questioningly. My heart was thumping through my ears, making the headache a thousand times worse. I wanted to tell him that I was okay, that he could leave without worry, but that would have been a colossal lie.

“Now!” Cameron ordered again. For the second time within the span of a few seconds, he had lost his composure. I knew that this wasn’t good, and wondered what excuse the path guard had made for his own lack of attention when he squealed on me.

“Geez! Okay! I’m leaving,” Rocco said. “You don’t have to yell. I’m getting really sick of no one telling me what the hell is going on around here.”

He hobbled out, and Cameron closed the door so quickly that he almost knocked Rocco over. Cameron then spun around and raced toward me. I flinched like a coward as he grabbed my arm—I had prepared for a battle … but not the bloodshed that came with it. There was never any physical warfare when I fought with my parents, just a lot of yelling and crying.

Cameron lifted the sleeve of my T-shirt with such force that I thought it would rip.

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Why did you lie to me?”

I didn’t know where to start. I hadn’t expected our combat to start in this fashion. The speech I had prepared in my head started with me accusing him of being a liar, not the other way around. My mouth was frozen shut.

What came next was not what I had expected him to say either.

“One of the guards attacked you yesterday,” he told me with agony. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He held my arm out in evidence and waited.

I looked down and realized that he was looking at the bruise that Roach’s fingers had left behind on my bicep. The bruise now had a greenish purple hue to it. Though this wasn’t what I thought I was being attacked for, it gave me the ammunition I needed to fight back.

I mentally discarded my preplanned discourse and decided to improvise. “Why would you care?” I asked coldly, yanking my arm away from him. “You’ll just get rid of me when you’re done. Why would it matter if one of your guards roughs me up before you do it yourself?”

Cameron looked confused. I had regained the element of surprise.

“What are you talking about? I would never hurt you or let anyone else hurt you. I would definitely not let one of my men do … anything to you.”

“Do not patronize me!” I interjected. “You care about me like people care for their pets. I’m just something for you to play with when you come home. Then you’ll have me put down when you get sick of me.”

“Emmy, if this is about the kiss thing, I shouldn’t have—”

“Cameron, please don’t insult my intelligence by pretending that you care about what happens to me. The game is over. I overheard you talking to that Manny girl in your office.”

The blood rushed from Cameron’s face, and his eyes widened. He turned his back and paced a few steps. I was blistering hot. But while I was huffing, he took a moment for the shock of my revelation to wear off, and he came back, his face completely composed.

“You shouldn’t have gone wandering.” His tone was acerbic.

He sat next to me and glared.

I was getting extremely dizzy but stood anyway.

“I can’t believe I fell for … all of this,” I said, unable to hide my pain. “I actually thought that you loved me. I thought …” I was shaking my head, pacing, winded, struggling with the tears and the heat. I didn’t know what to think anymore.

When a very calm Cameron leaned over to take my hand—and I felt like I wanted him to take it more than anything—I panicked and jumped out of his reach. He flinched, and I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes.

Suddenly, I remembered how to fight again. I stopped and narrowed my eyes at him. “I guess I should apologize to you because I haven’t been much fun at all since I’ve been here. So, I’ll make this really easy for you …”

On a calculated whim, I furiously pulled off my T-shirt and unbuttoned my pants.

Cameron quickly glanced away. “Jesus! Emmy, what are you doing?” he cried out, in shock and embarrassment.

I kicked my jeans off and stood in front of him in my underwear.

“Have you gone completely crazy?” he squeaked keeping his eyes down.

My eyes were throwing daggers. I put on a brave front, but felt like I was going to throw up.

“This is what you told Manny you wanted, isn’t it? Well go ahead—have your fun with me. I’m not sure why you went through all this trouble in the first place—it’s not like I have anywhere to go. Hell, you could have done this on the first day and gotten rid of me then instead of going through the effort of making me love you. Or is that your fun? Messing with my mind before … all of this,” I said, rapidly waving my hands over my nearly bare chest.