ZANDER
The comparison of Ella’s home to mine is night and day. That’s all I can think as I fill her fridge with groceries that are meant for both of us. Sports drinks all in a row line the bottom shelf of the fridge and they’re for me, not her. I’ve practically moved in and there’s a piece of me that’s unsettled in doing so. There are so many loose ends that need to be tied up. The sound of someone coming through the back door steals my attention.
It’s Kamden. His expression appears wary, almost angry.
“Hey,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “Are you busy?”
“Just putting these away.” I hold up a gallon of milk and then turn my back to him, opening up the door and asking, “Something you wanted to talk about?”
My hackles bristle whenever he’s around. I’m not sure if it’s possessiveness or if it’s because he knows more about Ella than I do. Or because there are secrets between us, but I know he loves Ella. I know he’d do anything for her. The possessiveness rises again. I don’t know if that makes him an ally or an enemy.
“Yes. There’s something we need to discuss.” He hovers around the table in the breakfast nook, seeming unable to make up his mind about whether he should sit or stand for this conversation.
I don’t like it. Kam is a bit of a wild card in this situation, and I’m still not sure what to think about him.
“Whatever you need to talk to me about, just say it. Ella’s upstairs resting.” I finish putting the groceries in the fridge and face him.
Kamden’s eyes darken. “It’s about the cameras.”
“I don’t work for The Firm anymore,” I say and then gesture. “This place doesn’t need to be full of cameras.”
“Yeah. So I saw.” Kam pulls up his phone and taps the screen. There’s a video of me removing the cameras. Well, fuck.
“What is it? Did you want to see us fucking?”
He rolls his eyes and drops his arm. “I want to see her safe. That’s what I want.”
He’s not as angry as I expected he’d be. Not even with me being kind of a prick. There’s an uneasiness about him, but that’s not necessarily a sign he’s working against us.
“Look, I just … I need to know she’s safe. All right. You could have at least given me a heads-up before you made that change.”
“Sorry.” I can understand what that’s like. It makes me soften toward him. Maybe he does want what’s best for her. “I’ll keep her safe,” I add, and I sure as hell mean that. It’s a promise.
Kam nods like he believes me. He finally sits down at the kitchen table, but he’s restless like he hasn’t said all he wanted to say yet. His foot taps. He opens his mouth, then he shuts it again. I keep my eyes on him and wait. People who want to talk will always open up if you stay quiet and give them the space they need.
Kam lets out a rough breath and narrows his eyes at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. “At first I thought you were into her because of the money.”
My eyebrows quirk up but I stay silent.
“I looked into your finances,” he explains. “Found something interesting.”
“You found out about the insurance,” I guess.
“Yes. I found out,” Kam continues, “that you’re wealthy in your own right … from Quincy’s death, but you don’t seem to have touched any of it.”
I swallow hard at the mention of her name. I’ve never touched it for a reason. Even now, I’m technically unemployed but I haven’t had to dip into it yet, and I don’t know that I want to. I’m immediately uncomfortable at having Kam say it right out loud, but I sit with the emotion rather than letting it turn to anger. I do have enough money to last a lifetime if it’s managed correctly. The fact that Kam knows about it doesn’t change anything.
“No,” I tell him. “I haven’t touched a dime.”
He studies me for a few seconds. “I don’t know what to think of you, Zander.”
“And I don’t know what to think of you.”
“Yes, you do.” Now he’s exasperated. The anger reappears in his eyes. Or is it just frustration? It could go either way. “I’m someone who will do anything to protect her. Anything.”
“And?”
“And I’m willing to let in others who will do the same.” He looks at me intently, willing me to respond.
“Or,” I counter, “you’re someone who won’t mind pushing people out if you think they’ve gotten too close.”
Kam smirks at me. “You’re more like James than I realized. More bitter, I think. James didn’t hold on to things like you do.”
He’s genuinely angry by the time he’s done speaking. His face is turning a little red. He opens his jacket and pulls out a bottle of alcohol.
“Ella’s not allowed to have that here,” I tell him, my voice hard.