Page 204 of Enthrall Shadows
I’d asked Cameron to get them.
“Desensitization,” he said thoughtfully. “I agree this may help.” He watched me watching them. “Where are you going to set them off?”
They were inanimate objects—right up until you lit them—and then when those fuckers went off, it was an entirely different situation.
“I’m going to light them at Shay’s place,” I told him.
“Want me there?”
“No.”
Cameron gestured for me to take a seat in the high-backed chair, but I continued to pace. It was generous of him to see me, considering I’d turned up unannounced on his Saturday off.
But after yesterday’s lunch at Truffles,I’d been left unsettled.
Like a ship lost at sea.
Only my brother could anchor me.
She,too, could anchor me.
Our seeming friendship was impossible.
Cameron was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans to compliment this casual meeting. I’d dressed in my running gear, since I’d probably need a ten-mile run to clear my head after all of this.
We’d left our dogs in the yard to play.
His office theme featured old-world vs. new. Mia had helped him decorate the space in understated luxury, a contrast to our gaudy upbringing. Seriously, you’d have thought Mom had been inspired by the Palace of Versailles.
Which reminded me, why hadn’t she insisted he also install those outrageous statues here? We should be treated equally when it came to her over-the-top style.
That made me chuckle.
Reality kicked my butt and my mind returned once more to a swirling, twisting state of confusion.
Cameron sat down in the high-backed chair opposite the one meant for me.
His Beverly Hills home office had been decked out to make it fit for one of his infamous private sessions.
My brother had a thing for Carl Jung and was clearly just as eccentric as that world-renowned psychoanalyst.
Patiently, Cameron waited for me to join him.
“Pacing helps,” I said in my defense.
“That’s fine.”
I jabbed a finger at him. “I don’t need a therapist. I need you to be my brother.”
He opened his palms in surrender.
“Don’t try that weird shit on me.”
“No weirdness,” he promised like a pro.
I’d been shaken up like a fucking dust bowl.
During lunch yesterday with Reese and her daughter, I’d brilliantly feigned business as usual despite how distressing the charade had felt.
