CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Outside Beaufort, South Carolina
December 22
Cam sat in the passenger seat as Chat drove up the interstate to the Charleston Airport. They listened to the news story detailing the arrest of Senator Harlan Musgrave.
Cam pointed to the radio. “Musgrave is claiming there's a cadre of corrupt Senators, judges, and cabinet members who have set him up. He's asserting that he was trying to infiltrate and expose the group, and these accusations are their way of shutting him down. His conspiracy theory is getting all kinds of traction on social media.”
“Of course it is.” Chat shook his head.
“I’d hate to be the U.S. Attorney prosecuting this clusterfuck.”
“And we thought catching the bad guys was the hard part.” Chat shook his head.
“Any word from Finn?” Cam asked. “I’d like to thank him.”
“Not a word. He knows how to disappear. I just hope he's getting the help he needs to get his head straight. We all remember this easygoing, positive guy. He may never be that man again, but there has to be something better than what he's become.”
Cam nodded sadly. “All right.”
“Another story broke this morning. An archaeological team in Mallorca discovered the world's largest yellow diamond.”
“You know,” Cam looked over at his friend, “when we first found it, I thought it was a weight to keep the box it was in from getting swept away by the tides. I threw it into a puddle.”
Chat's eyes grew laughably large. “You tossed away the world's largest yellow diamond?”
Cam lifted his hands in a what-are-you-going-to-do gesture. “I didn’t know what it was.”
“Seems like you’ve done that more than once of late. Tossed away something of great value.”
Cam didn’t pretend not to understand. “I can’t stop thinking about her. You’re right; she is that diamond, but you know that op messed me up. I want her so much it hurts, but I need to get right. She deserves that.”
Chat continued, “How’d the first therapy session go?”
“Really well. The doc you recommended is great. I get so balled up about shit; sometimes I just need someone to shake out my brain.”
“I know what you mean, man. Shit, I’ve never gone under, but we all have a dark side. It's like that Cherokee fable,” Chat said.
“Which one?” Cam asked.
Chat looked out at the road, his hand dangling casually over the wheel. “A grandfather tells his grandson that two wolves are fighting inside of us. One is evil and darkness, one is goodness and light. The grandson asks him which wolf wins the fight. The grandfather answers, whichever one you feed.”
Cam blew out a heavy breath. Of course, he hadn’t conjured Miguel Ramirez out of thin air. The dark desires and prurient impulses Miguel acted on were there. Inside Cam. Cam had just never been put in a situation where his two identities had come face-to-face. On Mallorca, had he been a darker version of Cam? A better incarnation of Miguel?
Chat helped him realize something that Evan seemed to know instinctively. Evan, that gorgeous, shy, damaged woman, had understood all along that he was simply one flawed man. All the qualities that his alternate persona possessed were within him, and that was okay with her. When he ceased to play the role of Miguel Ramirez, he boxed up those darker urges, but he had to accept that all of them—violence, greed, and certainly lust—were there within Camilo Canto. He simply chose not to feed that wolf.
“You feed the right wolf, Cam,” Chat said, echoing his thoughts.
Suddenly, Cam was overcome with an urgency so powerful, he opened the door before the car had come to a stop at the curb.
Chat grabbed his shoulder. “You okay, man?”
Cam turned back to his friend. “Not yet, but for the first time in a long time, I can honestly say I think I’m going to be.”
Chat grinned. “Have a good flight.”
Cam hopped out, grabbed his duffle from the back seat, and waved as the car pulled away. He had the strangest feeling Chat knew he wasn’t heading to Miami. Not yet.