“Camille, you’re being stubborn. For once, try to act like a damn lady. Stay out of men’s business.”
Cold rolled through her body at his words. How could he? So, because she had a job she loved, that happened to involve wood and tools, that made her less of a lady? Or because she was blessed enough to be able to wear a pair of jeans and a T-shirt to work each day?
Tristan must have seen the look in her eyes. His stance changed. His arms dropped by his side. “Baby, listen to me. That didn’t come out right.”
Hearing all she needed, Camille began walking around the room, pulling out her clothing for work. Along with that, she pulled out a few more things to place in an overnight bag. She knew she was mumbling to herself, but the words were too much to hold inside.
Why am I never woman enough?
Thought I’d found someone who accepted the real me.
Fucks me every night, but I’m not a lady when I don’t stay quiet.
Why can’t things ever be easy?
How can I love a man who doesn’t even know who I am?
That last thought was the one that stopped her. Glancing over at Tristan, she saw the stricken look on his face. He’d finally realized what she was doing.
“Camille, stop. You’re overreacting,” he said, reaching out a hand to her. “Come sit down.”
“No. I’m being grown. If the man I’m with can’t share shit with me, then I don’t need to be here.” Taking a deep breath, she turned away from him. Maybe their situation was a bit more complicated than simply saying he should be honest. She knew this and was woman enough to admit the truth. Taking another deep breath, she turned around. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you, Tristan.”
Giving her a look, he raised an eyebrow as if to question that statement. But he said nothing in response, so she continued speaking.
“I promise. I really don’t want to argue. But here’s the thing. I know something’s up. I have a street education from my parents and extended family, and my gut feeling has saved me more times than I can count. When I feel something is happening around me, I trust it. Maybe you don’t feel you can tell me everything due to the world you live in. I get it. But you should also recognize that I’m not like these women you’ve dealt with in the past.”
Tristan’s terse voice cut in, “Don’t compare yourself to those women. They’re nothing like you.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she stared him in the eyes. “Then stop treating me like I am. Either you trust me with everything and know that I understand how to keep shit quiet. Or I can leave today, and we reconsider what this,” she motioned with her hand between them, “will be in the future.”
“I don’t like ultimatums.” His deep voice didn’t have an ounce of give in it.
He was pissed. She was pissed. Everybody was pissed. Good. Maybe they’d get to the real issue now.
“I don’t like feeling as if I’m in a situation I’m unprepared to handle. Seems like we both have issues.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. She knew this was a make or break moment. She’d put it all out for him to either accept or reject. In the months they’d been together, she’d wised up on just who he was. The truth, not the rumor and sensationalized articles peppered across the gossip magazines.
Putting him on the spot like this wasn’t her best move, but it was the only one she had left. Just as she was beginning to think she’d played the wrong hand, he spoke.
“Marco.”
“Your cousin? Yeah, what about him?” He hadn’t been over to Tristan’s house since she’d begun spending so much time there. She only knew of him because Tristan mentioned his name.
“My cousin Marco wants to take over the family. Since I’m the apparent heir due to my uncle’s wishes, the only way he can do that is to remove both my uncle and me from the equation. Not only that, he’s threatened your life, the life of your parents, and anyone else I love.” Placing his hands on his hips, he stood in front of her with a hard glint in his eyes. “Which means, I need to kill him before he gets to you.”
CHAPTER 11
Camille sat with both Shandra and D at a table outside the restaurant as they ate lunch. It had been two days since Tristan had come clean. Two days that she’d seethed with anger that Marco had dared threaten her life because he was too much of a bitch to accept that he wasn’t going to be the one in charge.
Tristan claimed he’d told her everything, so she was going to let him have that lie. She knew there was something else going on but decided to leave it alone. More than anyone, she knew lies to protect the ones you cared about were sometimes necessary.
Looking at her two closest friends, she knew the secret held among the three of them could never get out. It would destroy her parents if they knew what their daughter had done to another human being. Her parents were good people who built a new life for their children, away from the negativity and potential dangers of their old neighborhood. Although they’d taught her how to handle herself on the streets, she knew they wanted a different life for her. There was no way she was going to ruin what they’d done for their children. How much they’d sacrificed to make sure she could have a better life.
Then again, she was dating—practically living with—a man with more ties to the criminal world than she could fathom. As he shared more of his world with her, exposing himself and his secrets, she wondered for a moment just who the hell she’d been sleeping next to every night.
Could the man who treated her with such tenderness, who kissed her with gentle lips, and whispered words of need and desire to her each day be the same man who’d killed so many? Sure, she knew of his nickname,Death Bringer, but she hadn’t really believed all those tales. People exaggerated all the time to boost their legends. Right?