“He’s… a totally different man. Maybe who he would have been, if life were different. Even after you broke it off, he still loved you.”
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“He didn’t love me enough to let me know he was still alive,”
Cameron whispered.
Preston was silent, his eyes on Cameron, who looked back at him expectantly.
“Why didn’t he try?” Cameron demanded, anger coming to the fore. After tonight, his nerves and control were shot, and he didn’t have the fortitude or the desire to hold anything back.
Preston responded to the anger by merely blinking and meeting Cameron’s eyes expressionlessly.
Cameron turned his chin sharply toward Blake. “You said he still loves me, even after what I did. Then why didn’t he tell me?”
“Cam, it’s not that simple,” Blake began.
“You’re pissed at him too! He left us thinking all this time that he was
dead
!” Cameron continued, his voice rising and his face flushing as he stood up and started pacing.
“I know, but, Cam—”
“No. No buts, Blake. One phone call. One e-mail. One something to let me know he was still breathing. If he forgives me, if he cares for me so much, why leave me to suffer all this time?” Cameron spit out, trembling as his emotions got the better of him.
“That, I don’t know, sir,” Preston answered calmly, as if Cameron had asked about the weather. “Mr. Cross has a reason for everything he does or doesn’t do. That doesn’t mean I always understand.”
Cameron swallowed hard and looked at Blake for an answer.
Blake met his eyes, and then he closed his own and shook his head.
Cameron turned on his heel, grabbed the jacket Preston had laid out for him, and left the apartment.
ROUGHLY a week after his ordeal, Cameron still refused to answer the door or the telephone. He stayed in his apartment with his dogs, stewing angrily over Julian’s deception and throwing things when he Warrior’s Cross 291
thought about how many times he’d dreamed about Julian coming back to him.
It wasn’t fair, to know he was alive and yet be so angry at him.
And it was worse than that if what Blake said about Julian still loving him was true.
Cameron was sitting on his couch, staring out the window blearily when the buzzer rang. He didn’t move, letting it ring again. It continued to ring demandingly until Cameron turned his head slowly to glare at it.
Finally, he got up and dragged across the hardwood floor in his bare feet to punch at the button.
“What?” he snapped. Last time it had been Miri, trying to deliver a care package from the restaurant.
“Let me in, Cameron,” Julian’s soft voice demanded in a no-nonsense tone.
Cameron pushed the button without even thinking about it, and then he shook his head in exasperation at how automatic it was to just do as Julian said. Knowing he was coming, Cameron unlocked the door and moved away, sighing as he headed back for the couch. He was beginning to tremble as he sat and wrapped himself up in a throw blanket.
Why was Julian here?
When the knob turned, Cameron caught his breath. He could only stare and try not to shake as Julian stepped into the apartment. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door, and he cocked his head and looked at Cameron, not coming further into the apartment. Cameron was surprised to see that he was wearing his sling. He must have been in a lot of pain to deal with the cumbersome thing, and he still moved slowly as if he hurt all over.
Cameron stared at him, unable to think of a single, solitary thing to say.
“Hello, Cameron,” Julian murmured softly, the Irish accent still seeming unusual and foreign out of his mouth.
Cameron blinked and opened his mouth to say something, but just as quickly closed it and shook his head. He swallowed with difficulty, 292
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allowing himself to look at his erstwhile lover. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a plain blue T-shirt. Cameron had never seen him in anything but an expensive suit or… nothing at all. It was disconcerting.
“Hi,” he finally whispered.
“You look well,” Julian observed after a moment of silence.
At that moment, the dogs came stumbling out of the bedroom area where they’d been napping in front of the fireplace and scampered toward the entry to swarm Julian’s ankles.
“Blake’s been taking care of you?” Julian asked as the dogs latched onto his shoelaces and the hems of his jeans. He didn’t look away from Cameron as they cavorted around him. “May I come in?” he asked when Cameron didn’t answer.
Cameron was too dazed to do anything but nod. He didn’t want to look away, even for a second. As angry as he was, he thought he would have been able to remain composed in Julian’s presence, but seeing him again, here in his own home, was both painful and wonderful.
What… why… how… questions swirled in his head, and there was no way he could pick just one, so he shut his mouth and climbed off the couch. He met Julian’s eyes deliberately and walked the several steps forward to stand more than an arm’s length away from the other man.
“You look really good,” Julian whispered appraisingly as he watched Cameron.
Some of the shock ebbed, replaced by a terribly painful ache Cameron thought he’d gotten over. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve done,” Julian offered regretfully.
Cameron sighed heavily and looked up at Julian, his eyes intent on the other man. He stepped a little closer, a couple feet away, and reached out to ghost his fingers over Julian’s cheek. When Cameron pulled his hand away, Julian closed his eyes and lowered his head.
He never saw Cameron’s fist coming.
Julian staggered back a step and shook his head, putting his hand to his lip as it seeped blood. He huffed slightly and looked down at Warrior’s Cross 293
Cameron with a little nod. “I was sort of expecting that earlier,” he admitted.
“You son of a bitch,” Cameron bit off, wincing and shaking his hand out at his side. “What the
fuck
?”
“I’m sorry,” Julian offered softly. “I had to disappear if I wanted to live.”
“Live?
Live
?” Cameron asked incredulously. “But you’re
dead
!”
“In theory,” Julian agreed with a wince.
“A theory I’ve had to live with for six months!” Cameron said sharply as his hand curled back into a fist.
Julian’s eyes darted to the clenched fist warily, and he lowered his chin. “I know,” he said curtly. He didn’t offer another apology.
The tone of Julian’s voice cut Cameron deeply, and the upset overwhelmed the anger, for the moment. “Where have you been?” he asked brokenly.
“Trying to bury myself,” Julian said in answer.
Cameron couldn’t keep back the torn scoff. “Good luck with that,
’cause it’s already been done!” he snapped. He ran his hand through his hair and took a steadying breath as he stared toward the kitchen. He knew if he continued to look at Julian, he’d have an absolute fit. “Did Blake know?” he asked in a dark, angry voice.
“No,” Julian answered with another wince. “I spoke to him this morning,” he added. “He hit me again. Twice.”
Cameron had to laugh, but it was a soft, broken sound. “Pretty deserved, if you ask me.” He looked back at Julian and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Julian,” he whispered. “You were out there, alive and well, and you never once tried to tell me. Never once tried to let me know you were okay.”
Julian bowed his head and slid his hands slowly into his pockets.
“How did you do it?” Cameron demanded.
Julian winced and looked up at him again. “Preston bribed the doctors, told them to declare me dead and hide me under false names.
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They kept me there until I could move on my own. I was on my back for three weeks, recovering for another six,” he told Cameron softly.
“When I was sure I could handle myself once more, I had to make certain Arlo wasn’t out there, waiting. I couldn’t contact you. I didn’t want to see you in danger again because of me.”
It made sense, but that didn’t make it hurt an iota less. Cameron was a different man because of having Julian in his life, because of the love, the fear, the pain,
and
the danger. “And now?” he asked shakily.
Julian gave a slightly self-conscious shrug. “There’s no more contract because I’m dead. He’s gone. And I’m back.”
“You’re back,” Cameron repeated softly, everything, everywhere hurting. He wanted so badly to reach out and curl around Julian to try to make himself believe he was really here and forget all the pain. “But nothing’s changed. There’s more like him still out there still looking to hurt you. It’s still just as dangerous as it was two weeks ago when I thought you were dead and you were too much of a coward to come tell me you weren’t!”
“That’s true, yes,” Julian affirmed, his normally impassive face displaying a hint of pain at Cameron’s words.
Cameron’s fingers dug into his own arms. “So, what now? Why are you here? Would you have ever come back?” he asked painfully.
“If he hadn’t shown himself? Would you ever have come back to me?”
Julian was silent as he turned his head and studied Cameron. “Last I heard, you wanted me gone,” he finally reminded softly. “It wasn’t my right, to show up here and beg you to take me back.”
Cameron blinked at him stupidly.
“But now?” Julian continued calmly. “I don’t care if I have the right or not. I was hoping that after the anger had passed, you might want me to stick around.”
Cameron exhaled shakily, and he raised both hands to rub at his face before dropping them again to return Julian’s even gaze. “And how long do you think that will take? For the anger to pass? Because I’ll tell you right now I have no idea how to deal with this.”
Warrior’s Cross 295
Julian shrugged uncomfortably. “I suppose it will take a while,” he nearly mumbled.
Letting out a strangled sound of frustration, Cameron turned and clenched his fists. “It’s not going to be easy,” he said hoarsely.
“Not if you’re angry,” Julian agreed. “Not if you can’t forgive me.”
“I fell apart when you were gone, and it took all this time to put myself back together,” Cameron said, voice choking on pent-up anger and pain. “And now… Julian, Christ.” He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, fighting for control.
Julian was silent. They both knew how hollow the words “I’m sorry” could sound. Cameron was sorely tempted to tell him to leave just to get this source of pain out of his life. But he knew if he refused Julian today, he would never see the man again, and that idea hurt even more.
Cameron managed to hold it together and opened his eyes to look at Julian as he edged away. It broke his heart all over again, to see that look on Julian’s face. “Please,” he croaked. “Don’t leave. Not again.”
“I never left,” Julian insisted quietly with a shake of his head.
Cameron studied Julian for a long moment as his heartbeat thumped in his throat. Then he nodded slowly. Trying to regain some measure of composure, Cameron glanced to the kitchen. “I need a drink. You want a drink? I’m getting a drink.” He walked off to the kitchen without waiting for a response.
“Good,” Julian muttered. “Drink mine too, will you? I remember you being easier to deal with when you’re drunk.”
Letting out a short bark of laughter, Cameron stepped to the refrigerator and pulled out his last bottle of wine. “It takes more than it used to,” he told Julian ruefully, setting down the bottle and snagging two glasses from the cabinet.
Julian remained silent as he watched.
Cameron poured the two glasses and set the bottle aside, pushing one glass toward the other side of the bar before taking a long sip of his 296
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own and holding the chilled glass to his forehead as he closed his eyes.
This roller-coaster ride of emotions was exhausting, and he wanted to get off before he fell apart again.
“What’s with the accent?” he asked abruptly.
Julian blinked at him, nonplussed. “What, you don’t like it?” he asked defensively.
Cameron frowned slightly. “Actually, I do. A lot. I just want to know where it came from. And if it’s really yours.”
Julian blushed heavily and cleared his throat. “It’s mine. I was born in Dublin,” he answered uncomfortably.
“Dublin, Kansas,” Cameron stated with the slightest touch of bitter humor in his voice.
Julian shrugged guiltily. “It’s close,” he mumbled.
Cameron’s lips twitched. “Uh-huh.” He shook his head. “What about the other things you told me that night?”
Julian shifted uneasily. “I lied to you,” he admitted. “I lied about a lot of things. But never because I wanted to or wanted to hurt you.”
“What should I believe now?” Cameron asked pointedly. Then, surprisingly, a slight laugh broke free. “Because, you know, you tell me something using that damn accent, and I might just be putty in your hands.”
Julian blinked at him in surprise. “I missed you,” he answered softly as he watched Cameron raptly.
“I should hope so,” Cameron said, eyebrows raised in expectation of more information forthcoming.
Julian’s lips twitched. “And I love you,” he added obediently.
Cameron nodded, tilting his head and waiting, still expectant, though now he was smiling again, this time even wider. He felt disgustingly giddy, which was terrible when he knew he should really still be angry.
Julian bit his lower lip thoughtfully and lowered his head just slightly, still looking at Cameron unerringly. He thought for a minute Warrior’s Cross 297
and then inclined his head again. “And I like the color paint you chose?” he tried hopefully.
Cameron couldn’t hold back the laugh. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he accused.
“Yes,” Julian answered obediently.
“Is Julian Cross your real name?” Cameron asked with a touch of dread. He didn’t know that he could think of the man as anything other than Julian.
“Mostly,” Julian answered with a wince. “Julian is my given name.