Page 82 of Puck Struck
"Is it serious?"
"With his condition, any fever could be." I grab my bag, wincing as the weight pulls on my bad shoulder. "I need to get back to the hotel."
When the team heads out for a victory celebration, I hang back. Cam does the same. No one questions it, though Carter gives me a knowing look as he leaves.
Back at the hotel, I call Tessa again. She's home with Ethan, who's on the couch watching cartoons. His fever hasn't risen, but she's monitoring it closely. I speak with him for a few minutes, relieved to hear his voice sounding normal. Just tired.
After we hang up, I pace the length of my room, organizing my thoughts, trying to sort through the chaos threatening to overwhelm me. Ethan. My shoulder. James. Cam.
A knock at the door interrupts my mental spiral. I open it to find Cam standing there, hesitant but determined.
"How's Ethan?" he asks.
"Stable. For now."
"Good. That's good."
He hovers near the door and I hold it open wider. “You want to come in?”
Cam steps inside the room and I resume my pacing, the silence between us deafening.
"I need to know everything," I say finally, stopping to face him. "Every threat, every contact, every detail about what James wants. No more secrets, Cam. Not if we're going to beat this."
He bites down on his lower lip, then nods. "Okay."
"And we do this my way," I continue. "With a plan. With evidence. With Mike's help, if necessary."
"Your way," he echoes, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing. It’s just...of course you need a plan. You always need to be in control."
"Is that a problem?" I lift an eyebrow.
"No." His expression softens. "It's just... very you."
I'm not sure how to take that but I can’t argue with the truth. "James is threatening both of us now. That means we face him together or not at all."
"And if I say no?" He crosses his arms over his chest.
"Not an option." I step closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. "I don't let people I care about face things alone. Not ever."
The words hang between us. I can't take them back. But I hold my breath, waiting to see how he accepts them this time. Last time, he bolted.
Cam's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't pull away.
"Okay," he says.
My shoulders sag with relief. "We'll build a case. Record calls, save texts, document everything.”
"How much does Mike know?"
"Not everything." I sink down on the bed. "Just that someone's being blackmailed. But he's trustworthy."
Cam nods, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he sits next to me. "I'm sorry. About last night. I thought I was protecting you."
"I know." I don't tell him he's forgiven, because I'm not sure he is, not completely. But it's a start. Maybe that means he feels…something.
