Page 78 of Hiding Hollywood

He climbed out, checked his firearm, and headed down the quarter-mile long driveway. The crunch of the dirt and gravel under his boots matched his breath. Lacy’s barking put a smile on his face.

She’d been outside with Lacy. He hadn’t thought of that.

Lacy came running up to him, barking and jumping like mad before racing off down the driveway.

He edged into the clearing around his house. If Dexter was inside, being the scum’s target practice wasn’t at the top of his list. The house looked quiet, his blue truck sitting where it always did. His cell phone buzzed.

“Yeah?”

Dewey’s footsteps sounded in the background. “Got trouble. Car’s parked on the backside of your property.”

His world tilted.

He’d all but demanded she stayed at his house to be safe. He closed his eyes a brief moment, shifting away from the thoughts of what he might find inside.

A loud thump sounded on the far side of the house. He drew his weapon, crouching down behind a tree, Lacy sitting right beside him.

Addie sailed out of his bathroom window, her legs already in motion before her feet hit. She took two steps. Lacy barked, catching her attention.

Cameron’s body tensed. “Run!” He yelled.

A split second later, she ran barefoot and fast as hell into the woods in the direction of his parent’s house.

“Go, Lacy.” Cameron motioned in the direction where Addie disappeared. Lacy took off after her.

The pain in his stomach released from the terrible fear that’d coiled inside. Finally, the woman had listened to him. And the dog.

He was the one that was supposed to face dangerous situations, not Addie. If she so much as had a scratch from this, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

A crash from inside the house grabbed his attention. Dexter had to be in there.

He readjusted his grip on the gun, palms a little damp. He’d never shot someone. Didn’t plan on doing it today. But between the two of them, Cameron had no intention of being the victim.

Dewey motioned to him from the far edge of the yard.

“Come out, Dexter,” Cameron called, his shoulder pressed tight against the tree.

The silence stretched out for a couple of minutes.

“Dexter, your grandmother turned you in.” Poor Ms. Ruth, but he wanted to end things peacefully. For her sake as much as for his own. “Come out!”

The front door opened. Dexter didn’t walk out, but he could identify his shadow by the long jacket.

“Dexter, come out now.”

“And if I refuse?”

Footsteps rushed from behind him. “Cam?” His dad’s voice called.

“He’s refusing to come out.”

“Do you have any unsecured weapons in there?”

“No. Gun safe is locked up tight.”

Two state patrol cars rolled down the driveway. His dad’s hand landed on his shoulder. “You’ve been up all night. We’ve got this.”

He tried to shrug him off. “He came here because of me. I put her in the same danger I was trying to keep her away from.” Cameron’s jaw ached from clenching his teeth, scared of his dad’s answer. “Is she alright? Did you talk to Mom? She headed in that direction. She’s barefoot, but it still won’t take her more than twelve to thirteen minutes at her pace—”

---