Page 86 of Warrior's Cross

Glancing toward the clock to dispel the feelings, Cameron saw it was almost eleven. Normally he’d have assured a customer that he could stay as long as he liked. But tonight...

“May I bring you the check?” he asked.

“Please,” the man answered, his speculative eyes never leaving Cameron.

Cameron nodded and left, swallowing hard once he was turned away. This man really gave him a bad feeling. He wished he knew why; and he wished, not for the first time, that he could get in touch with Julian. He wanted that feeling of safety and security he’d experienced in Julian’s arms.

He supposed, if it was a real emergency, he could contact Blake.

But Blake was harder to reach than he had been six weeks ago. He didn’t come to the restaurant anymore. He hadn’t been there since the day he’d moved. He merely called occasionally to check in, never talking for more than a minute or two. Cameron had his number, but he felt stupid, going to all that trouble over a diner who was hitting on him.

Cameron pushed through the service area doors and called up and printed the check, his hands shaking the whole time. He was just being paranoid, he tried to tell himself. He was allowing his experience with Julian to get to him, still suffering from the barely healed wound to his heart. Now Cameron just wanted this man who’d brought up painful memories to go away.

He walked back to the table silently and set down the leather folder. The man immediately slid a credit card on top of it, his eyes on Cameron, who avoided them. Cameron took the folder and headed over to the bar to run the card and print the signature slip.

He wasn’t really paying much attention, but when the confirmation flashed across the computer screen, the man’s name caught his eye.

Arlo Lancaster.

Lancaster.

Cameron swallowed hard. That was the man Miri talked about not too long ago. She’d said Blake warned Julian about him. Now truly upset, Cameron was thankful he’d kept his mouth shut. He’d hurt Julian enough as it was. He didn’t need to be giving out information about him to people he needed to who made him need to “watch his back” as well.

He nearly crumpled the signature slip, but managed to get it into the folder with his trembling fingers. Cameron wanted—needed—to get this man out of the restaurant and call Blake. He took the leather folder over to the table and set it down along with an ink pen before stepping back to wait, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Lancaster signed the slip, leaving a generous tip, one on the level of Julian’s tips. He slid his card back into his wallet and then stood as he replaced his wallet under his jacket. A leather strap was clearly visible under the jacket, as was the hilt of the gun that rested in the holster. He wasn’t a big man, wiry and perhaps the same height as Cameron, but despite his average size Cameron noted Lancaster exuded the same feeling Julian had.

But Lancaster truly scared him.

“Thank you for the dinner, Cameron,” he offered as he readjusted his jacket and smiled.

Cameron went absolutely cold. It was all he could do to manage a polite nod.

Lancaster either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the effect his words and actions had, and he moved past Cameron as he walked toward the door. Cameron had the very terrifying thought that he had just dodged a bullet.

Once Lancaster was out the door, Cameron went to the front office, found Blake’s new number, and called him at home.

“Yes?” Blake answered gruffly on the second ring.

“It’s Cameron,” Cameron said shakily.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked immediately, though his voice was still calm.

“Arlo Lancaster just had dinner.”

Blake was silent for a long time, so long that Cameron thought the connection might have dropped. Then Blake cleared his throat. “I’m not going to ask why you felt the need to call me,” he finally said. “Don’t worry about it, Cameron,” he ordered, though his voice was kind. “Just be alert walking home tonight.”

“Alert?” Cameron asked in surprise. “You mean he—”

“Don’t leave for another hour. But when you do, go straight home,” Blake said, his tone stern. “And do it quickly when you go. No cabs. Walk like you usually do.”

Cameron stared at the wall and bit his lip. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“Good night, Cameron,” Blake offered gently.

“Good night, Blake.” Cameron hung up the receiver and looked at it for a long time as his mind raced in circles before leaving the office.

Cameron left Tuesdays a little after midnight like Blake had instructed. It was amazing how such a short amount of time with Julian had made Cameron so paranoid. Even here in the city, he’d never been truly afraid, and he felt he was usually a confident man. But not now.

---