022-Brian-book 2

At Cami’s words, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. "Cami, I didn't—"

"Save it, Remington," Cami spat. "You played me like a fiddle and I danced to your tune. I'm the one who pulled the trigger, but you're the Puppet Master."

The rain had picked up again, and the droplets mingled with the sweat on my brow. "No, I'm not," I said, my voice hoarse.

"Aren't you?" she threw back. "You've been using me from the start, feeding me breadcrumbs like I'm some kind of stray animal. And for what? Because you wanted your father dead? You couldn't do it, so you had to get your little detective to do your dirty work?"

"Dammit Cami, I'm not the Puppet Master and I didn't set you up. I fucking covered your goddamn ass to keep you out of prison! I fucking changed the crime scene to throw the investigation off you."

~CAMI~

As Brian was telling me these things, he was stepping closer and closer until he had me backed up against his supposed grave stone and I whispered, "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because I don't have a fucking lick of sense and an itch for you that won't go away!" he breathed.

Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, a kiss that was more a claiming than a kiss. His tongue pushed past my lips, demanding entry, and I gave it willingly. It was a kiss that spoke of passion and pain, of love and loss, of the darkness that bound us together.

My hands found his chest, pushing him away even as my body arched into him. "Don't," my mouth said the word, but my body wasn't listening.

But he was relentless, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

"I want you, Cami. God help us, but I want you," he murmured against my neck, his teeth scraping my skin, sending sparks through my body.

I couldn't find the will to push him away again. The rain had soaked us, melding our clothes to our bodies and making our skin sticky. The cemetery, a place of peace and quiet, was now a battlefield of raw emotion.

His hands roamed my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Brian," I moaned, my resolve crumbling like sand.

He growled, his hands cupping my ass, lifting me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist. The rain soaked through our clothes, plastering them to our bodies as if we were one. His mouth moved to my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks that would be my secret.

His hand slid down my body, finding the heat between my thighs. "God, Cami...."

Suddenly a beam from a flashlight shone through the darkness, placing us in its spotlight as the groundskeeper's voice growled, "What in the hell you two you think you're doin'?"

Brian's eyes met mine, a spark of mischief amidst the chaos. He whispered, "Well, looks like we've got company," before setting me down and flashing the old man a grin that could charm a snake.

"Just payin' our respects, ol' timer," he drawled, his voice as smooth as whiskey.

The groundskeeper squinted through the rain at us. "Respects at this time of night? You ain't got no respect for the dead, nor for me, I reckon. Draggin' an old fart like me out in this monsoon!" Then, with a shake of his head, he murmured, "Best you two youngin's be on your way. This ain't no place for the alive or dead on a night like this."

Brian chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine. "You heard the man, Cami," he said, his voice low and intimate. "It's time to go."

However, the groundskeeper's intrusion had knocked some sense into me, and peering at the man, I murmured, "Thank you. We'll just be doing that."

Brian, his eyes still on me, saw the shift in my demeanor, the cold wall I put between us and his smile slipped off like a mask. "Yeah, it seems we're done here, anyway," he ground out.

Turning, I began walking away, but Brian followed. "Cami, I—" he began, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture of my hand.

"Don't. There's nothing to say. Go away and leave me alone, Remington," I snapped, stressing his name.

He stepped closer, his eyes blazing like the embers of a dying fire. "Dammit Cami, will you just listen?"

But I was already walking away again, my heels sinking into the mud. "No, Brian," I threw over my shoulder, my voice as cold as the rain that soaked my clothes. "I've heard enough of your lies."

~BRIAN~

The rain pelted down on us, each drop a stinging reminder of my failure. Cami's eyes were stormy, her body rigid with anger as she stomped through the mud, her heels sinking with every step.

"Cami, wait," I called after her, my voice thick with desperation. But she didn't slow down, the rain matting her hair to her face, making her look like a drenched goddess of vengeance.

"Don't you fucking touch me," she spat, whipping around to face me, her hand on the gun at her hip.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I growled, stepping closer.

"Oh, I know plenty," she shot back, her eyes flashing with accusation. "I know that you've been playing me for a fool since day one."

"That's not true," I protested, reaching for her.

But she slapped my hand away. "Don't lie to me, Brian," she hissed.

"I never meant to hurt you," I said, my voice raw with emotion.

"But you did," she whispered, the pain in her voice shattering my heart into a million pieces, as once again, she turned and walked away. This time, I didn't follow.