For Cam (Chicago Syndicate Book 4) (29 page)

Even when she’s far away mentally, she helps me; she grounds me.

“You said you’d always be waiting for me. Wake up, Cam.”

Silence can be more powerful than all the words in the world, and the silence I have to live in while she’s in a deep sleep is deafening. For such a long time, Cam’s centered me. When we first met almost three years ago and were only friends, I already relied on her. Then when we became lovers, I used to drive up to headquarters every night just to spend a few hours with Cam, inside her. Because being with her gave my sinner’s soul some rest. Cam simply made me feel and experience emotions in a new light. I believe that’s only achieved when you’ve found your counterpart. Yet this realization also worries me.

If she doesn’t wake up, what will I do?

But I disregard that last thought with all my power and hug her tightly while whispering into her ear, “Whatever happens, my love, I want you to remember what it feels like to be held by me, locked in my embrace. I’m holding on as tight as I can, Cam. In the middle of all the disorder, there was always you. But not now, and that weakens me.” I kiss her cheek, hoping she can hear me. “You are my strength. I need you. But right now, I’ll be your strength until you wake up.”

I clamp onto that shred of hope every day. Every week. Every month – for a long time. But as time passes, hope becomes a burden. Time makes hope dissolve into nothingness.

Camilla

––––––––

I
’m stuck in limbo, floating around in the darkness with nothing tangible within reach, not even my own body. My thoughts seem to just fly around as I recognize voices from the outside world, but I’m trapped in my mind and can’t find the means of escape.

“Hurry! Fifty cc’s.”

Fragments of sentences and words ring through my ears.

“Wake the fuck up!” a woman yells.

All of a sudden, it’s quiet for ages.

Everything is either chaotic or silent. The last thing I remember is being held captive in Yakiv Medlov’s house. I was talking to Adriano, and then the house blew up. There was a pain in my head that I don’t feel now. Actually, I’m not feeling anything. I will my eyes to open, but all I see is blackness. I want to lift my arm, but I have no idea how to do that.

Am I in surgery? Under anesthesia maybe? I need to wake up and tell Adriano about the tape Santino recorded me on that is now in the hands of Medlov. I don’t know if we’ve caught him or if the Syndicate is even aware of that tape’s existence, but they need to know.

All I’m able to do is hear disjointed conversations and sense things. I sense that Adriano’s nearby, as if I’m not alone. There’s this comforting sentiment somehow surrounding me – as if I’m in our bed in our favorite position: with Adriano pressed against my back.

Then a train of words barrage my brain again. “Baby...marriage...baby...terminate.”

Baby? Marriage? Who’s getting married?

A voice says, “Logan agrees.”

Who’s Logan? I try to fight through the haze, but everything is incoherent. Solitude and blackness are disturbed by unconnected sentences.

“...It’s been too long...Jamie Fraser...baby can’t...”

I hear the word
baby
often.

Who has a baby? Who the hell is Logan? And who the hell is Jamie Fraser?

Grief strickens me when I start to realize that I might be in a deep sleep for a longer period. And the world around me keeps revolving while I’m stagnant.

I want to cry and scream for Adriano because I feel as if I’m wandering away from him. Sometimes I think I smell him, but when I concentrate, I can’t interpret anything and conclude that perhaps it’s all a figment of my imagination.

How much time has gone by? Do they have the tape? Is Adriano continuing with his life?

On one occasion, Adriano’s voice breaks through my fog, and I unexpectedly understand a few sentences very clearly. “You need to give me a sign, sweetheart. I miss you so much. I’m trying so hard to hold on to you, but you need to give me something, anything. I’m losing hope, and I hate it.”

His voice sounds incredibly tormented, and I desperately want to give him a sign, but I don’t know how to.

No! Don’t let me go. Don’t move on. Wait for me, Adriano. Please, wait for me.

His plea splinters my heart into a million pieces, and I feel like crying, but again, I don’t even know how to cry. However, hearing him gives me a newfound resolve.

Feel me, Adriano. Sense me. Hear me, like I hear and sense you.

I always knew he and I shared an exceptional bond and truly believe that when hearts are connected, no complication can destroy that tie.

Adriano

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I
n life, there’s a reason for encountering everyone you meet. With some people, you recognize the reason right away; some relationships grow, some are only temporary. Some people will fear you, some support you, some work against you, some love you. Yet there’s one person you’ll meet whom you’ll love with an intensity so profound that the reason why you met them can only be explained as destiny. And when you find that person, you cling to them. Every. Single. Day. Cam is
my
destiny.

I lost part of my world on the day she slipped into a coma. For almost two months, she’s been gone spiritually. The holiday season starts, and there’s no change in Cam’s condition, even when Thanksgiving turns into Christmas.

What if she doesn’t ever wake up?

I keep shoving back the rancid thought. Thankfully, her condition hasn’t declined, but it hasn’t improved either. Her blood pressure fluctuates often, but Marc’s monitoring her closely like he promised, and our baby is slowly growing.

Every bone in my body abhors the fact that we’re not experiencing her pregnancy together. I never underestimated my obsession for Cam. I knew when she found her way back into my life that I’d never let her go again, that I’d never feel for another woman what I feel for Cam. But I did underestimate the strength of her love for me. I hear her words so often: her one-liners about love and life, and it’s the only thing that keeps me going.

I work and make exorbitant amounts of money after being
Capo crimine
for six months. Revenue for the dance club has tripled, and we’re importing twice as much drugs through customs to meet demand in the sex club. And enemies are laying low. It’s something I should take pride in, but nothing satisfies me anymore without Cam by my side.

I’ve slept in her room every night because I basically can’t bear to be away from her for too long. Every day, I have dinner with Cam in her room, since we’ve expanded the team with Wade and other new members, and they can take care of things when I’m not there. I’ve taken on my true role as
Capo crimine
and am managing everything from the top, from afar. And nowadays, I’m content with not doing street work anymore, because it would eat up my time with Cam. My morning routine is now waking up and showering, combing Cam’s hair, and talking to the baby before I head to work.

Still, I haven’t gotten any sign from her, which is causing my hope to dwindle. Trying to stay positive while getting no sign whatsoever for months can break a person emotionally. Physically, I’m fine, albeit a little leaner since I don’t work out as much as I did before. However, mentally, I’m exhausted. My life has never been emptier. Because at the end of the day, I worked so hard for months to achieve this newfound power and wealth for Cam – so that we could have our life together, but Cam’s still unresponsive, and these one-sided conversations are beginning to drain me. Every second of this prolonged silence chips away at my hope. Time has new meaning. It passes, and I go through the motions, but it’s like I don’t exist without her. And I’m starting to resent the pervasive silence.

I miss the way she says my name.

When Christmas Eve arrives, I miss Cam most. I’m beside her bed in her hospital room that’s decorated with a Christmas tree, sitting in my usual chair, pining for her, loathing how I sense her slipping further and further away and taking all my faith of recovery with her. They say nothing aches more than the death of a loved one, but that’s a lie. There’s a place between life and death where Cam is now, and in that place where misery rules supreme, I try to survive. While she’s there, I can’t grieve, because grieving means accepting and letting go. But this is ten times worse than grief. This is still having that loved ones’s shell with you, but not their spirit, so moving on is impossible because you don’t want to betray them.

“You need to give me a sign, sweetheart. I miss you so much. I’m trying so hard to hold on to you, but you need to give me something, anything. I’m losing hope, and I hate it,” I mumble against her cheek with a tremble in my tone.

Right then, a drop of moisture trickles down the tip of my nose, and I rear back, observing a lone tear seeping from the corner of Cam’s eye.

“Cam...?” I reach out and trace the path of her tear with my thumb. “Can you hear me?” In an instant, I feel triumphant, clasping her hand while the urge to cry and laugh collide. “Sweetheart, you’re crying. I can see it!”

The nurse disturbs my first moment of happiness in the last two months.

“She cried,” I exclaim, almost disbelieving it myself, yet finally, a ray of light cracks through the darkness. “She heard me!”

“That’s entirely possible, sir. But it could also be an automatic reaction of her body.”

I’m tempted to say
fuck off and let me believe in my truth
, which is that she can hear me.

Stroking her hair, I implore, “Cam, come back to me. We’re going to have a baby...” And I press my lips to her forehead. “I can’t breathe without you, my love. Every day scares me more.”

That moment of joy is so fleeting though, and the subsequent silence deafens my hope with a vengeance. Fortunately, a visitor interrupts my dejected state before I drown in my sorrow.

Heels click down the hall, and Fallon darkens the doorway, holding up a brown bag dangling from her hand. “I come bearing food.”

“Thanks. I’m starving,” I reply as she hands me the bag and removes her coat, placing it over the chair on the opposite side of the bed.

“How is she?” Fallon asks me while staring at Cam.

The rich aroma of the tomato sauce in the lasagna wafts through the air as I open the container and take out the fork. Even though I’m hungry and this is a dish from
Francitalia
– one of the best places in town to eat Italian – the food tastes different nowadays, so I shove the fork back into the container after only two bites.

“What’s wrong?” Fallon asks. “You seem more sad than usual. Talk to me. You need to talk to someone besides Cam, Adriano. We’re all here for you.”

I laze back against the chair and rest my ankle over my knee, raking my hair back angrily, and all the grievances pour out, “I can’t even enjoy my food. I’m alive, but I don’t exist without her. My happiness is intricately tied to Cam’s wellbeing. This is why I was always so overprotective of her! Because I knew damn well she would be a target; I’ve seen how that went with you. In this business, everyone you love is a target, and it’s a well-known secret that the boss of this Syndicate is obsessed with his
Capo
. Sooner or later, this would’ve happened. I fought so hard to keep her safe, and for what? It’s so fucking difficult to keep believing in a positive outcome when every day, I live in this fucking silence.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her and our baby. God, I-I just miss her.”

Fallon plants her hands on her hips, startling me with her heated retort, “Stop it! You’ve held on for so long. I see how everyone is losing hope: James, Alessa, and Luca. They all continue with their lives and don’t believe she’s in there anymore. But
you
and
I
do. Don’t give up on her.”

“I’m trying not to,” I defend. “It’s just wearing me out.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “Maybe we should try a new tactic?”

“Like what?”

She looks me straight in the eye. “Like the tough approach.” And then she turns to Cam and yells with excessive hand gestures, “Wake the fuck up, Cam! Wake up! Wake up!” Fallon’s bent over Cam, watching her with an amusingly hopeful gleam in her eyes.

I break out in a laugh from seeing Fallon trying her
tough approach
on Cam, and it’s a completely foreign sound to me.

Fallon’s gaze turns to me, and the corner of her lips tilt up.

“I can’t even remember the last time I laughed,” I mention.

“Yeah, I thought you lost the ability,” she teases and plops down into the chair. “So, that didn’t work.”

“Apparently. Got any more bright ideas?” I mock, and she makes a face. 

“I do, actually,” she replies proudly and delves into her purse, presenting a blue paperback with a crown on the cover. Then she speaks to Cam, “We’re kind of tired of waiting for you to come back to us, so I’m going to read this book to you because it’s awesome. And you’re going to love it.” Fallon eyes her own book with comical admiration. “And when you wake up, we’re going to watch the show together. The main character is a highlander named Jamie Fraser, whom
I
adore. And if you don’t like it, then you’ll just have to wake up and tell me to shut up, because this series consists of eight novels.” Then she leans back. “See, we fight the silence and read to her.”

“Ah, Fallon’s answer to everything: reading,” I say playfully.

“I’m telling you, Jamie Fraser will bring her back.” She opens the book dramatically.

My phone buzzes on the bed, and
Wade
flashes across the screen. “Wade?”

“I have Medlov in my vision,” he explains immediately.

I jump to my feet. “Where?”

“An escort is moving him out of the Loop. A soldier saw them exiting the police precinct,” he answers.

“Who’s protecting him?” 

“I’m not sure yet, but it would have to be someone pretty powerful,” Wade replies.

Not wanting to leave Cam alone on Christmas Eve, I ask Fallon, “Are you staying?”

“Yes. I can stay as long as you need me to.”