Page 43 of The Chosen Son

Chapter 18

Deimos

I didn’t go backto visit Cameron over the following week. That didn’t mean I hadn’t seen him, of course, since I’d been compulsively watching him in the security camera, but I’d respected his wishes when he’d told me to leave. Zeek had been bringing all his meals and doing his laundry. Cam was understandably angry with me, considering I’d taken something important from him, but he’d said it was making him sick. I guess I’d expected, oh I don’t know, a little thanks, some iota of appreciation for singlehandedly making him feel better? At the very least, I figured he’d help me get off too.

I huffed, leaning back in my chair. Why was Cameron even still here? I’d left the cell open, expecting him to saunter out of here, never to be seen again. But there he was, pacing around the room, looking all cute and rumpled. He’d been sleeping more, showering less, his greasy hair standing up in uneven spikes, and he’d bitten all his fingernails down to the quick.

And as long as he was hanging around, I felt like I couldn’t go after Loki. Like it was in bad taste to make Cameron watch me put his powers to use. I knew it was ridiculous, obviously, but I felt this desperate need toapologize. Me! Apologize! For doing something he’d literally begged me to do! I’d never said sorry for anything in my life, and dammit, that made me so… pissed off!

My entire body crackled with unspent energy, spooled so tight that I felt twisted up into knots. “For fuck’s sake, just leave already!” I screamed at the computer monitor, sweeping my arm across the desktop and sending my keyboard and mouse flying with a crash, but of course Cam didn’t hear me. Zeek, however, did.

He slunk into the room, cowering by the door, tremoring from head to toe. “Apologies, my lord, but… I think something is wrong with our guest.”

It was like a bucket of ice water dousing my burning ire, and my head snapped up, my heart stuttering. “What is it, what’s wrong?” Even before he answered, I was headed for the door.

“H-He is so tired and agitated, and also, he stinks.” This coming from the pus-excreting demon. He skittered along behind me, his overgrown toenails scraping on the concrete tunnel.

I rounded the corner and stopped outside Cameron’s room. “Thank you, Zeek. You will not be needed this evening. Why don’t you take the night off?” Then I stepped through and closed the door before Zeek could argue.

Cameron had stopped his pacing and was now nestled deep into his blankets, facing the far wall. I could tell he wasn’t sleeping, though, by how he tensed up. “What’s the matter with you?” I snapped, letting my irritation seep out in my tone.

“Why do you care?” he muttered.

And wasn’t that the question I’d been asking myself since the moment I first laid eyes on him. I stomped across the cell and grabbed the blanket, giving it a sharp tug. Cameron, however, tightened his grip and pulled back.

“I just want to be left alone, okay? So just fuck off already.”

I didn’t fuck off, though. Instead, I redoubled my efforts. I rounded the bed, trying to get him to look me in the eye, but he stubbornly rolled away again.

“Are you sad or mad? Depressed? Sick? I need to know what I’m working with.”

He sighed. “I’m not anything.” I took that to mean he was all of the above, but he was too proud to admit it.

“You know what you need? A little sunshine,” I said, crawling onto the bed and straddling him so he had nowhere else to go. “You’ve been cooped up underground for too long. It’s a beautiful day outside. Why don’t we go for a walk?” Of course he could walk by himself, so why was I offering to go with him?

He shook his head, trying to burrow deeper into his pillow, but thanks to my weight on his hips, he was trapped. “I don’t wanna go outside,” he grumbled, pouting, but the more he squirmed under me, the harder I got.

I could tell the exact second he felt my erection, as he froze and his gaze sharpened, but I refused to move away. I wanted him to know what he did to me.

Cameron was many things—brave, honorable, responsible—but he was also too stubborn for his own good. “When was the last time you had fun?” I asked deviously, a plan forming.

I could sense his curiosity, but instead of outright telling him my idea, I waited for him to ask. He peeked at me from the corner of his eye. “What kind of fun?” he finally asked grudgingly.

“You’ll see…” I drawled, my sly smile widening. I moved off the bed, making sure to drag my hard-on across his body on the way, inducing a shiver to roll through him. “Be ready to go out in an hour.” I walked away, already plotting, but I paused on the threshold. “Need any help in the shower?”

“No,” he snapped, and I laughed. He flipped back the blanket and stomped to the bathroom, but he couldn’t turn away fast enough to hide the briefest uptick of his lips, and I swore I saw a distinct bulge in his sweats. Regardless of the distance he seemed determined to wedge between us, I sensed a hint of interest. I allowed myself a tiny indulgence and watched his fine ass until it disappeared into the bathroom.

For so long, Cameron’s identity had been tied up inwhathe was, notwhohe was. He’d been used and abused, nobody standing up for him. What the straightlaced man really needed was to learn how to live without his power, and I had an idea for how to kill two birds with one stone.

“You’re joking, right? This is a joke.” Cameron looked up at me, his expression full of misplaced hope. He looked around, probably for hidden cameras, chuckling shakily.

I raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?” I took a small amount of satisfaction in knowing I could surprise him.

“You said we were going to have fun…” Cameron wrapped his arms around his stomach defensively. He’d changed into a clean pair of joggers and a t-shirt, and even though the early-summer night waswarm and fragrant, goosebumps dotted his skin. His jaw was clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grinding from here. He stared reluctantly down at the man on his knees between us. There were tear tracks glistening on the guy’s face and snot dripping over his lips. He was an ugly crier.

The man in question was none other than Scott Strilek, Cameron’s so-called ex—though I hated to give him the title since he’d obviously seen it more as a business opportunity than a relationship. I wasn’t generally a fan of humans as it was, but this particular one gave the rest of them a bad name. And I was pretty sure he’d pissed his pants, because he smelled worse than Zeek. My lip curled in disgust.

“I don’t know about you, butI’mhaving fun,” I said, grinning wide. It was a beautiful night for bloodshed. The sky was clear, dotted with the stars strong enough to get past the light pollution, and the water lapped along the shore of Lake Erie. We stood at the the construction site for the new bridge, and while the chances of anyone stumbling on us out here were slim, the added bonus was that once we were finished with him, I could dump the body in some newly poured concrete—not that anyone would miss this douche canoe.

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