Like choosing to steal from Ronan. Like choosing to run away to begin with.
Now though, I felt like my choices had finally led me somewhere decent. Cam wasn’t the man I left two years ago, but there were pieces of him still inside begging to get back out. His innocence was gone, and that would never come back, but that didn’t make him bad.
It only made him twisted and broken.
Just like me.
He came back out in fresh jeans and a shirt with a gun slipped into his waistband. I silently followed him outside and into a black sedan. It smelled new.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked.
“Bought it,” he said. “Couldn’t keep driving that truck with all the fucking bullet holes in it.” He pulled out from his spot and rolled through the city. I watched buildings flash by and tried to remember the last time I sat in a brand-new car, or even knew someone that could afford to buy one with only a day’s notice. He probably paid cash and probably got a family discount, but still.
Being a Valentino clearly had its perks.
We parked out in front of a quiet apartment building in a shady South Philly street. He killed the engine and squinted up at a dark blue door with multiple addresses listed on the right side.
“Cute place,” I said, looking around. “Kira lives here?”
“That’s right,” Cam said and glanced at me. “You should wait in the car.”
“I don’t think so,” I said with a laugh. “You dragged me here so I’m coming.”
“I just realized it might not be safe.” He clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair. I saw the anxiety rippling under the surface. “My head’s not straight right now.”
“Then you need me in there even more,” I said and touched his knee.
He looked down at my hand then met my eyes again and nodded. “All right, just stay close.” Then got out.
I followed him. He stood at the top of the stoop and buzzed every apartment except for one. A chorus of voices came out of the intercom, but he said nothing, only stared at the door grimly.
Until someone just buzzed him in.
He pushed it open and held it for me.
“How’d you know that would work?” I asked.
“Sometimes doesn’t,” he said. “Guess I got lucky.”
I rolled my eyes as he led me up to the second floor then down a short hall to the back apartment. He pressed his ear against the door listening, the nodded to himself and knocked.
Silence from inside. Then footsteps. Cam pressed his hand over the peephole.
“Uh, hello?” Kira’s voice, muted by the door. “Sorry, is someone out there?”
Cam nodded at me. I felt a moment of panic. He wanted me to say something, but I didn’t know what.
“Uh,” I said.
“Hello?” Kira again, sounding anxious.
“Package,” I blurted out. “Amazon.” I made a face and shook my head, cringing at my own stupidity.
But a lock clicked open and the door cracked open enough for Cam to shove it hard.
Kira let out a shocked grunt as the door pounded into her face. She fell back into her apartment and let out a strangled scream as Cam loomed over her. I followed and shut the door as quickly as I could.
“Oh, shit,” Kira said, dabbing at her face. “I think I’m bleeding.”
“You’ll live,” Cam said and bent down to get closer to her. “Unlike Omar.”
Kira made a confused face. “Who the fuck is Omar?”
Cam looked at her silently for a second before he walked past her toward the living room. “We need to talk,” he said.
“You could’ve fucking called,” she said, slowly getting to her feet. She glared at me and I smiled sheepishly. “Did he drag you into this?”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling dumb. I didn’t know why I apologized.
She made a disgusted face and dabbed at the red line of blood on her forehead from the door. She followed Cam into the living room and I drifted after them, going slow, and stayed on the edge of the room.
Her place was cute. Light filtered in through a big back window. Plants hung on every surface and covered every shelf. Her couch was small but cozy with lots of pillows and blankets, and her coffee table was teak and glass. It looked like it belonged in a magazine, and I might’ve wanted to curl up near the TV and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer with her all day long if it weren’t for the death-stare Cam gave her.
“Sit down,” he commanded.
“You going to tell me what the fuck this is about?” she asked, but she obeyed, lowering herself heavily onto a beat-up easy chair with a colorful throw over the back.
“We saw your girl yesterday,” Cam said, pacing like a wildcat. “And on our way out, a bunch of Healy guys showed up in a van and murdered one of my guys.”