Dying To Be Heard (Book 1): Outcry (5 page)

He smirked and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. "You catch on quick."

Rayne stood, placing the now-empty mug on the table and wiped the moisture from her hands on her flannel pajamas. She looked everywhere but directly at him as she walked towards the door. She didn't like the way his eyes seemed to trace the edges of her soul.

"I'll pack a bag and be ready tomorrow morning." In somewhat of a daze, she opened the door and gestured for him to leave.
Have I snapped
?
Am I seriously going to do this
?

Camden crossed the room toward her and pushed it closed again. "I'm not going anywhere. My unexpected visit could have made this guy suspicious. We don't know if he will or won't try anything tonight."

Layla stood from the couch and joined the two at the entrance. "What makes you think that you being here is going to stop him?" she asked.

He answered without looking away from Rayne. "Just call it a hunch."

It was starting to aggravate her, how he was so calm and collected about everything. Didn't he understand that they were playing with her life? She threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine, whatever." She pointed to her friend. "You are sleeping with me. Let's go." She turned toward the hall, but paused and came back to Camden.

"If you insist on being here, then you are on the couch. But if you so much as sneeze the wrong way, I will bludgeon you to death with whatever I can get my hands on." She pointed at him and narrowed her eyes. "Are we clear on that?"

Camden gave a devilish grin that made her heart skip a beat. "Is that a promise?"

She stepped closer. "Oh, no...That is most definitely a threat." With that, she turned and retreated to her bedroom with Layla.

Chapter 4

Camden stood in the darkness of Rayne's living room, nothing but his blue jeans clinging to his lean body. He pulled the blinds back and watched out the window as the tall man standing at the corner disappeared around a building. He released a sigh and stepped away, running his hands through his short black hair. He crossed the small room to the couch and let himself fall back on the cushions.

How am I going to do this?

He'd known Martin Slade for years, since a certain series of events had bought them together. The story of his dying granddaughter and what he did to save her had tugged at his heart, and he agreed to come on and work for the man in hiding in exchange for certain privileges.

It hadn’t taken him long to begin seeing Martin as more than an employer. His kind personality and caring demeanor had made him a very close friend.

He stared up at the ceiling, taking a moment to let eyes to adjust to the darkness. For nearly three weeks now, he'd been in Ridgeton, Washington, keeping an eye on Rayne at the request of her grandfather. Somehow, the old man had known that something was going to happen and asked that Camden watch over her from afar. He wasn't to contact her in any way, just observe.

Camden had questioned him on his sudden motives, but Martin had waved them off, said that he only wanted to know how she was doing. In trusting him as he always had, Camden had packed a bag and flown to Washington on a whim.

He had been expecting a normal twenty-five-year-old partygoer, like most young people these days, someone who was more interested in what she looked like than how she acted, and in a financial rut that she couldn't dig herself out of.  Just another immature girl who was looking for someone to take care of her, instead of taking care of herself.

That's not at all what she was. He never foresaw the young, mature Rayne that he’d found. In public, she seemed calm and collected, courteous to everyone she met. She cared more about spending her mornings watching the news instead of putting on makeup. She was simple and had a natural beauty about her that he hadn't seen in quite a while. Behind closed doors, she was carefree and even somewhat spontaneous. He'd seen her dancing around the kitchen with a mop and singing to the radio as she cleaned. She smiled even when no one was around. She read and laughed and was just happy.

Also, she had a stubbornness to her unlike anything he had ever seen. In just two short weeks, he’d seen her put her mind to something and not back down. When tall, dark, and creepy at the corner had broken in, she refused to just roll over and let that rule her life. Sure, she was more cautious and a little frightened. He noticed that she left more lights on than was necessary, or went back several times to make sure the door actually was locked. She tossed and turned in her sleep, but she was determined. She wouldn't accept her friend’s offer to become roommates or take a vacation for a few days to de-stress. She wouldn't do it. She pushed herself and smiled through it all.

He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face, inhaling deeply. He could only imagine how hard the last few days had been on her. She wasn't that happy-go-lucky girl anymore. She was tired, confused, and angry. She spent her time alone at home in fear instead of laughter, jumping at every creak and pop the building made. He hadn't liked seeing her that way.

When he reported the second break-in and her emotional state to Martin, he insisted that Camden bring her to meet him. He didn't know what purpose it served, but he rarely questioned him. It never did any good, anyway.

So, there he was, on her couch in the dark. He hoped he could convince her to come with him. Martin was determined to see his granddaughter again, and it didn't matter how dangerous it was. If he had to come to Washington himself, he would.

Rayne sat in the backseat of her mother's run-down old station wagon, a pink suitcase on the seat beside her and the back end full of boxes. It was nearly dark outside, but with the help of the car's headlights, she clearly could see her mother and grandfather on the front steps of his log-cabin-style house, yelling at each other.

She didn't know what they were fighting about, but she knew it had to be something big. Was grandpa mad because they were moving out?

She inhaled deeply and coughed a few times. There was still a terrible rattle in her chest, but it was actually better than it was a week ago. In fact, she was feeling better, too. It was a little easier to breathe, and her bones didn't seem to hurt as much, either.

She looked out the window at the stars that were beginning to twinkle into view one at a time and smiled. They were so pretty, especially out there with nothing but trees surrounding them. The shouting grew louder, and she was able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Why am I so mad?" her petite mother yelled from the bottom of the steps. "You could have killed her!"

Her grandfather descended the first two steps. "But it didn't! She is still alive, Madelyn. She may not have made it this long if I hadn't given it to her."

Madelyn held up a finger at her father. "You don't know that!" She turned toward the car and stopped within a few steps, turning back to glare at him. "I can't even begin to express to you how incredibly angry I am. That is my only little girl." She pointed at the car. "I have no idea how long I have left with her, but I am going to cherish every single moment of it. You could have ripped that away from me!"

She tangled her fingers in her hair and tears streamed down her cheeks as she paced back and forth in front of the car. "My baby is already being taken away from me, and you're trying to expedite it!" Uncontrollable sobs erupted as she continued to pace.

"Madelyn, that was never my intention, and you know it!" he snapped back. "I love you and Rayne more than anything else in this world!" He inhaled deeply and rested his hand on the mahogany banister, staring down instead of looking at his daughter. "Without it, she was going to die anyway. I didn't know what would happen when I gave it her, but I had to try, Madelyn. I had no choice!"

She threw her hands up in the air and backed towards the car, her auburn hair a tangled mess. "It doesn't matter." She turned and grabbed the handle of the car door. "We can't stay here any longer. I can't risk what precious time we have left."

She opened the door and put one leg inside, pausing and looking at him over the door. "You may or may not hear from hear us again."

She crawled inside the car and slammed the door, taking only a second to wipe the tears from her face and give Rayne a somewhat pitiful smile before erratically backing out of the driveway.

She watched her grandfather lower himself onto the top step and bury his face in his hands before they turned a curve and the trees blocked her view.

Rayne’s eyes slowly fluttered open, squinting against the sun that filtered in through the sheer curtains. Something heavy was draped over her chest, and she had to blink her vision clear before she realized it was Layla's arm. She tried to wriggle away, her friend’s legs were tangled around her own and prevented her from escape.

What else could be expected when two full-grown adults shared a twin-size bed? She shoved the arm off, eliciting a groan from the lump in the covers.

Staring at the ceiling, she tried to recall the dream she’d had. Surprisingly, it hadn't been the beast this time. It was the memory from the last time she’d seen her grandfather. It must have been brought on by the revelation that he was alive and the anticipation of possibly seeing him again.

She sighed and untangled herself from Layla and the blankets. She laughed when she sat up and saw her large wooden dresser pushed in front of the door, barricading them in. It was a last minute decision for a little extra peace of mind, and it had worked.

Groggily, she stood and stretched. It took a second for her to realize that she sun was already up and shining brightly through the window treatments. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was after seven AM.
Wow. I must have slept well.

She made her way to the massive piece of furniture blocking the door, and tried to move it.
Holy crap! How did we manage to move this thing in the first place?

She pushed and wiggled and shoved until she made just enough space for her slim frame to slip through. How Layla was still sleeping with all the grunting and huffing was beyond her. That girl could sleep through anything!

As she stepped out into her narrow hallway, the smell of food hit her, and immediately her stomach began to growl. She peeked around the corner into the kitchen and found Camden standing in front of the stove with nothing but his jeans on.

She froze. She'd thought he was hot before, but that was nothing compared to what she was seeing now. The hard lines of his back were covered in smooth, ivory skin and marked with tribal tattoos on his sides and shoulders. Sinew and muscle flexed and rippled as he moved, cooking what smelled like eggs.

Her mouth went dry, and she inhaled suddenly, as if she had just remembered to breathe.

His muscles tensed as he spun around, holding a plate of scrambled eggs.

Rayne jerked her head in the other direction, looking anywhere but at him, desperately hoping she hadn't been caught admiring his profile.

Camden smiled and brought the plate over to the counter. "Breakfast is ready," he said in a deep rumble that sent a chill down her spine. "Hope you don't mind I used some of your groceries."

She shook her head, coming back to reality, and suddenly felt extremely underdressed in her flannel pajamas. She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth the auburn waves. Rayne leaned against the counter and grabbed a piece of toast, trying to act as normal as possible. She nibbled it nonchalantly, even though her insides were trembling with electricity just from being near him.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

She laughed. "I don't think that's even possible when you share a bed with Layla Cummings."

Camden chuckled and crossed his muscular arms over his chest. For the first time that morning, Rayne let their eyes meet. For a split-second, she could have sworn she saw a flicker of something, hunger, maybe even desire. Then it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

A few awkward moments later, she was searching for something, anything to break the silence. "So I take it nothing exciting happened last night." She used her head to gesture to the front door. "With creeper, I mean."

He shook his head. "He left shortly after you went to bed and turned out the lights."

She nodded. "So when do I get to meet my grandfather, who is dead, mind you," she said sarcastically and used her fingers to make air quotes.

He pointed toward the living room at a brown luggage set with the tags still on them on the floor near the couch. "Our flight leaves in four hours."

Rayne choked on the toast she was eating, coughing and reaching for a glass of orange juice. She greedily gulped it down and panted for air as she looked at him in disbelief.

"Our flight?" She sat the glass down. "I assumed it would be a local trip. Maybe overnight, but not far enough to fly!" She frustratedly ran her hands through her hair. "I can't go across the country with you; I don't even know you!"

Camden rolled his eyes as if he had known this was coming.

Rayne put her hands on her hips and turned to face him head-on. She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me!" she spat. "In case you have forgotten what an incredible mess this all is," she used her hands to gesture all around, "let me remind you."

Camden turned toward her as well, and the two stood face-to-face in her kitchen, bare chest to pink flannel, electric blue to emerald green. The air was so thick between the two, you could almost see the static crackling as their gazes connected.

"I have a stalker who has turned my life upside down in all of two weeks. I'm scared to stay in my house alone, I don't sleep at all anymore, I'm afraid to go out by myself, and you, a complete stranger, shows up at my house, claiming you're here to help me but I don't really know that. For all I know, you could be the one that's after me. And now you want me to get on a plane with you and go meet my dead grandfather!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Sounds crazy, right?"