All Over You (All Falls Down #3) (28 page)

"I'm going to kill you," Cam seethes, holding me in his arms. I think he's talking to Erin, but I'm not sure. All I know is that we're still in her apartment, and she has a gun. She has it pointed at Cam.

I don't know how long we've been here, but she won't let us leave.

I'm fading in and out, losing consciousness. Cam tried to stop the bleeding, but I don't think it worked. My blood is soaking into his pants. There's too much of it. The longer we're here, the weaker I feel. That doesn't seem fair to me, but at least I got to see him one more time first. At least I had a chance to feel his arms around me once more.

"If she dies, I will tear you apart."

"Shut up," Erin cries. She's been crying a lot and begging me to forgive her.

I don't think I can. I feel…sorry for her, I think. And sad. I never wanted to compete with her. She was my friend, and I loved her. Had she told me how she felt, I would have done something about it. I would have found a way to fix it.

Why didn't she tell me?

"If she dies, I swear to God, you won't leave this apartment," Cam says, making her cry harder.

He's so angry.

"Cam."

His gaze drops to mine immediately. His eyes are wet and so are his cheeks. He's crying.

"Kitten," he whispers, choking on the word.

"Don't cry. Be here with me," I mumble, but the words sound strange. Garbled. I don't think my tongue remembers how to work properly.

His expression crumbles, tears falling down his face.

My eyes flutter, so heavy, they want to slide closed, but I have to tell him first. Not to kill her. I don't want him to live with that burden for the rest of his life. I don't want to be the reason anyone else dies. I want him to be free. Happy. "Don't hurt her. No more dying."

I don't know if he understands, but it's the best I can do.

"Shh, kitten," he says, rocking me back and forth in his lap. "Don't talk."

"I love you," I whisper, closing my eyes.

chapter twenty-one

good for you

When I wake up again, I'm not in Erin's apartment. I'm in the hospital, in a tiny bed in a sterile, white room. The pain is muted and there's a steady beep coming from somewhere. I turn my head to find it, and my gaze lands on Cam. He's sitting beside me, his head in his heads. His shoulders shake like he's crying, but he doesn't make a sound. He looks defeated, like he's dying inside.

"Cam," I whisper. His name cracks on my lips, barely audible.

His head flies up, his gaze tangling with mine.

I was right; he
is
crying.

"Kitten," he whispers, relief washing through his expression.

A tear rolls down my cheek, but I don't know why I'm crying. I think maybe because he is. Because he's so strong, and it doesn't feel right to see him with tears slipping down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. You're okay." He slides closer to me, reaching out to cup my face between his palms. His hands tremble, but he's so gentle. And it's been so long since I felt his touch.

The tears flow faster.

"Kitten," he whispers, and then he lifts me up into his arms, cradling me to his chest.

He's careful not to touch my back, holding me like a small child. It hurts anyway, but I don't care.

I bury my face in his throat and inhale as he sinks down onto the bed with me. His scent winds through me, loosening knots deep inside my stomach. The ones that took up residence there when I sat across from Detective Ventura in that interview room, trading my freedom for his future.

"Is it over?" I ask him, curling my body into his, trying to touch him in as many places as possible.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he whispers into my hair. "It's over."

"Did you―?" I can't get the words out to ask if he killed her.

"No. I wanted to, but I didn't. She's in jail."

I close my eyes, sorrow and relief flowing through me in tandem. My heart hurts, like my best friend just died. Except she didn't. She destroyed my life and then she shot me. How am I supposed to deal with that? To accept it?

A sob rips through me, coming out in a strangled whimper.

"I got you," Cam promises, holding me close as I fall apart, grieving for my best friend.

She's the only family I've had in a long time, and part of her hated me the entire time. Six years of friendship are just…gone. Like they didn't happen at all. And I don't understand why.

I cry for a long time before my tears dry up. When they do, Cam lays me back down in my bed and wipes the tears from my face. My eyes are heavy, but I'm not ready to sleep yet. I just want to be here with him. It's been so long since I was with him. I'm afraid he'll disappear if I close my eyes, and I'll wake up alone again.

Anxiety shoots through me, and I tighten my grip on him.

He seems to understand what I need when I cling, refusing to let him go. He slides into the tiny bed beside me, lying chest to chest with me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, kisses my forehead, and lingers there, his lips against my skin.

"How long have I been here?" I whisper when I can talk again.

"Since yesterday." He pulls back to look at me. "Thank God that bitch is a bad shot. The bullet didn't hit anything major, but you lost a lot of blood. You almost didn't…" He shakes his head, pressing his forehead to mine. "I almost lost you." His voice is thin, full of pain.

I snuggle closer to him, trying to ease him.

We lay quietly for a moment before I feel compelled to talk again.

"How did you find me?"

"I knew exactly where you were, kitten."

I stir restlessly, uneasy as flashes from yesterday play through my mind. "I called you. You didn't answer."

"I was in a meeting, trying to get a warrant to search her computer," he whispers, his voice ragged. "When you told me she traveled a lot, I started looking into her. I hoped I was wrong, but then Ventura showed me the photos of you at your friend's bar in L.A. I knew then that she did it. I just had to find proof." He exhales a shaky breath. "Had I believed for even a second that she would try to kill you, I never would have left you with her while I looked for it."

"I thought you hated me," I admit. "After what I did…I wouldn't have blamed you."

He tilts my chin up so I have to look at him. His expression is hard-ass cop and soft, gentle Cam at once. "I get why you did what you did, kitten. Not saying I like it or that I agree with you doing it, but I get why." He cocks a brow at me. "You ever do that shit again, I will spank you, though."

"I was trying to protect you," I mumble.

"You think I don't know that?"

"You lied to me."

He nods.

"Why?"

"I told you, kitten: I'm a big boy. I make my own choices."

"You should have told me," I argue, though I'm not sure why. It doesn't matter anymore.

"Had I told you the truth, you wouldn't have given me a chance. That didn't work for me. I knew the day I met you that you were something special." He runs his finger across my bottom lip. "Had to have time to convince you to fall in love with me, too."

I want to be mad at him for lying to me, but I can't. Not when he says things like that to me. Not when I lied to him, too. And my lie was infinitely worse. I still have to fix it.

"I didn't mean what I said that day, Cam," I whisper, praying he knows I'm telling him the truth now. "I wasn't using you. Telling you that I didn't love you broke me, but I didn't think I had a choice. I fell in love with you and I didn't want you to lose everything because of me." I take a breath. "I'm
still
in love with you."

He smiles at me, giving me that dimple.

"Do…do you still love me?" I whisper and then I squeeze my eyes shut, terrified he's going to say no. If he doesn't love me anymore, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'll live without him if I have to do it, but it'll only be a half-life, one devoid of warmth and safety. I need him in my life. He's the only thing that makes sense to me anymore. Especially now, when my best friend is in jail for shooting me and my life is in shambles.

"Look at me," he says, running his finger across my lip again.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared you're going to say no," I confess and then I start rambling, unable to stop myself. "And if you say no, I'm going to cry again. And I'm scared if I cry anymore, I'll get dehydrated and then they won't let me leave here. I really want to leave here, Cam. I hate hospitals, and this bed isn't very comfortable."

His body vibrates as he laughs at me.

"You're always laughing at me," I grumble.

"Because you're crazy, kitten."

"Am not."

"You are if you think I could stop loving you for even a second."

My eyes fly open.

"I'm so in love with you, I can't think straight," he says, meeting my gaze. So much sincerity rest in his gray eyes, they almost glow. "The last few weeks without you have been utter hell. I need you in my life, sweetheart. You're the best part of it."

Even though I don't want to cry anymore, a tear rolls down my cheek.

"Stop that," he says, brushing it away with a soft smile on his face. "You'll get dehydrated, and then I won't be able to take you home."

"I want to go home."

"There's something you need to do first," he warns me.

"Okay…" I say, confused.

"You need to decide where we're going to live."

"Cam―"

"No, kitten," he says, putting his hand over my mouth to silence me. "I don't give a shit if you think it's too soon or not. I've spent the last three weeks sleeping on my fucking couch because I can't sleep in my bed when your scent is all over it, but you aren't. A man can only take so much. If you want to wait a while to get married, that's fine with me. But we will be getting married, and wherever you sleep is where I sleep from now on. I'm not sleeping without you ever again."

I narrow my gaze at him, pulling his hand from my mouth. I'm not even mad, but I have to say it anyway. The urge is overwhelming. "You can't boss me into marrying you."

"Not gonna boss you, kitten," he mumbles, staring at my lips. "Gonna beg you."

Hope blooms in my chest at his words, and then I freeze. "What about your job?"

"Fuck my job," he breathes. "If they don't like that I'm marrying you, they can kiss my ass. I'll find another job, but I can't find another you. You're mine, kitten. You've been mine since the day I met you. I'm done living without you."

That's all I need to hear. I crash my mouth to his, kissing him hard.

"Fuck, kitten," Cam groans, writhing beneath me. "We gotta stop."

"Nu-uh," I mumble, licking my way up his chest, paying special attention to the sunburst tattoo that I love so much. "I'm not stopping."

"You're not healed. It's only been two weeks since they released you."

"That's long enough." I flick my tongue against his nipple, scraping my nails down his abs the way he likes. My back is still sore, but not nearly enough to keep me from him any longer. We've been sharing the same bed every night since I left the hospital two days after Cam told me he still loves me, and I'm going insane. Every night, he kisses me until I can't breathe, and runs those rough hands all over my body. I can't take any more. I need him inside of me again or I'm going to lose my mind.

"Kitten," he growls when I palm him through his boxers. He's so big and hard.

I know this is killing him, too.

"Please, Cam," I plead, wrapping my hand around his length and stroking him. "I need you! Please."

He growls again, and then I'm flying through the air.

"Oh!" I cry out when he catches me before I hit the bed.

He eases me down the rest of the way, careful of the stitches that run halfway across my back. The bullet came close to hitting my lung, but somehow, it missed. I'm pretty sure that's the only thing that saved my life. That, and the fact that Erin let Cam call an ambulance after I passed out. Luckily, they were already on the way, thanks to a neighbor who heard everything. They rushed me into surgery as soon as they got me to the hospital and removed the bullet. I had to have a lot of blood, too. More than I want to think about.

"You okay?" he asks, looking down at me with hungry eyes. Worry glints in the depths of the stormy gray.

"I'm fine," I promise him, meaning it. He's been worried about me, and I can't say I blame him. I've been a mess, alternating between crying a lot and staring off into space. Picking up the pieces and coming to terms with the fact that Erin was behind all of this is going to take a long time, but I have Cam to help me, so I
will
be okay. We both will. We’ve lost too much time already to waste any more.

"Good." He smirks, showing me that dimple of his, and then he yanks his boxers off, kicking them free. He wraps his hand around his cock, stroking himself.

Heat immediately races through me, wetness pooling between my thighs. I squirm beneath him, trying to relieve the pressure already building inside.

"You've been fucking with me for a week, pissing me off because you knew I couldn't do anything about it," he says, his eyes smoldering.

He's not lying. I have been extra mouthy, hoping to push him over the edge and make him lose control. He didn't take the bait, but I'm pretty sure the cocky bastard has been intentionally torturing me every night as retribution.

He prowls up my body, straddling my chest. He's careful not to put any weight on me, bracing himself against the headboard with one hand while he continues stroking his cock with the other. "Let me have that smart mouth, kitten."

Oh god, yes.

I open instantly, moaning when he passes the head across my lips, teasing me. I flick my tongue out, tasting the pre-cum already gathering on the head of his cock. Another low moan filters from my mouth at his taste. It's been too long since I've had him in my mouth. I need it almost as badly as he does. More, perhaps.