Chapter 023-Brian-book 2

At my words, Cami tipped her head, eyes flashing like a blade catching firelight.

"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 yourself, so you had to get your little detective to do your dirty work?"

"Dammit, Cami, I'm not the Puppet Master, and I sure as hell didn’t set you up." My voice cracked with fury and desperation. "I fucking covered your ass to keep you out of prison. I changed the crime scene to throw the investigation off you."

~CAMI~

Each word was a hammer blow, driving me further into disbelief. Brian was stepping closer and closer until my back pressed against the cold stone of his supposed gravestone. The chill of it seeped through me, grounding me, even as my voice broke in a whisper.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

His eyes burned through the rain, his chest heaving. "Because I don’t have a fucking lick of sense, and because I’ve got an itch for you I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try," he breathed.

Before I could react, his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding, relentless. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming, raw and wild. His tongue pushed past my lips, leaving no room for hesitation, and shamefully, I yielded. It was passion laced with pain, love buried under loss, darkness woven with desire.

My palms pressed against the solid wall of his chest, half-heartedly trying to push him away, even as my body betrayed me and arched into his heat.

"Don’t," I gasped against his lips. The word came from my mouth, but not my body. My body was screaming yes.

He didn’t stop. His hands slid down to my waist, gripping me like I was something he’d lose if he let go. His breath ghosted across my skin as his teeth scraped along my neck, sending sparks racing through me.

"I want you, Cami," he growled against my pulse. "God help us both, but I want you."

And I wanted him too, more than sense, more than logic, more than survival. The rain plastered my clothes to my body, our bodies molded as though we were made for this chaos. The cemetery, once silent and solemn, had become a battlefield, and he was winning.

"Brian…" My moan was half plea, half surrender.

He growled, the sound primal, lifting me effortlessly until my legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth branded my neck, leaving trails of fire and bruises that would be mine alone. His hand slid down, fingers brushing the heat I couldn’t deny.

"God, Cami…" His voice was wrecked, reverent, hungry.

Then, a harsh beam of light split the storm as the groundskeeper’s voice cut through the thunder of my heartbeat.  "What in the hell do you two think you’re doin’?"

Brian froze, his body taut, then leaned back just enough for our eyes to meet. Mischief flickered in his gaze, the spark of a man who thrived in chaos. 

"Looks like we’ve got company," he murmured, setting me down gently before flashing the old man a grin sharp enough to charm a rattlesnake.

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

The groundskeeper squinted through the sheets of rain. "Respects at this hour? You got no respect for the dead, or for me, draggin’ an old fart like me out in this monsoon." 

He shook his head, muttering. "Best you two youngin’s be on your way. This ain’t no place for the living or the dead on a night like this."

Brian chuckled low, his eyes never leaving mine. "You heard the man, Cami. Time to go."

But the interruption had been enough to knock sense back into me. Shame and fury rose like a tide, drowning out the fire of his touch. I pulled back, whispering to the groundskeeper with more gratitude than I intended, "Thank you. We’ll be leaving now."

Brian’s smirk slipped, replaced by something raw and unguarded. He saw the wall going up between us brick by brick. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice grinding low, "seems we’re done here anyway."

I turned and started walking, each step heavy in the mud. Behind me, I heard him follow. 

"Cami, I…"

I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Don’t. There’s nothing left to say. Go away and leave me alone, Remington."

His name was a weapon on my tongue.

He stepped closer, fire blazing in his eyes. "Dammit, Cami, will you just listen?"

But I was already moving again, heels sinking, clothes clinging, every step pulling me further from him. "No, Brian," I called over my shoulder, voice as cold as the rain pouring down my face. "I’ve heard enough of your lies."

~BRIAN~

The storm didn’t let up, and neither did the ache in my chest. Rain pelted down, each drop a stinging reminder of what I was losing.

Cami’s figure blurred through the downpour, her back rigid, her heels stabbing into the mud like every step was a vow. She looked like a goddess of vengeance, untouchable and furious, and she was walking out of my reach.

"Cami, wait," I shouted, desperation tearing at my throat. But she didn’t slow.

When she finally spun to face me, her hair was plastered to her face, her hand hovering near her weapon. Her eyes were fire and ice all at once.

"Don’t you fucking touch me," she spat.

"You don’t know what you’re saying," I growled, pushing closer despite the warning in her stance.

"Oh, I know plenty," she snapped. "I know you’ve been playing me for a fool since the day we met."

"That’s not true," I said, reaching for her.

She slapped my hand away like it burned. "Don’t lie to me, Brian."

"I never meant to hurt you," I whispered, the words torn from a place deeper than I cared to admit.

"But you did." Her voice cracked, soft, broken, a knife slipping between my ribs. Then she turned again, walking away into the storm.

This time, I didn’t follow.

The rain swallowed her up, and all I could do was stand in the cemetery, a man drowning in his own mistakes, watching the only woman who ever mattered disappear into the night.