A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House) (37 page)

Cam's grip tightened so hard Hunter thought his bones were going to snap. He could see the muscles flexing in Cam's jaw and his nostrils flare with each breath.

"You look really good." She stood in front of Cam, looking up at her big brother. She was petite next to him, thin and barely reached his chin. "You got taller."

Cam forced a smile but didn't say a word.

"Hello again," she said, extending her hand to Hunter. "I didn't catch your name the first time we met."

"Hunter," he said as he extended his hand, his other still holding Cam's in a vise grip. "Are they taking your statement?"

Jasmine nodded. "I came over as soon as they called." She looked over to Cam again. "Did he give you my message?"

Cam nodded.

Before Cam had a chance to react, Jasmine threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there and for the things I said."

Cam refused to release the grip on Hunter's hand or wrap his arms around his sister to reciprocate the embrace. He stood there, arms down at this side and his face void of any emotion while his sister hung on.

Jasmine slowly retreated and looked at Cam. Tears began to fill her eyes. "You can't find it in your heart to forgive me?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Cam visibly swallowed. "I'll forgive you, because that's what brothers are supposed to do," he said in a level tone.

"Thank you," she said then deeply exhaled. The tears vanished from her eyes before a single drop fell.

Cam began to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, I need to finish answering a few questions before I head back home. It was good seeing you again, Cam," she said. She brushed something off her dress, then turned and walked back to the cubicle of the waiting officer.

Hunter felt a sudden coldness to his core. He had hoped, for Cam's sake, that she would at least push harder, try to make amends. Instead, she had managed to turn and depart just as quickly as she had greeted him once she got the forgiveness she sought. She didn't even bother to ask Cam if he was okay considering the bruising on his face and the bandage on the side of his temple.

"Over here," Aidan said, guiding them to the neighboring room.

The space was small, dark, and narrow enough for a few standing people but nowhere near the size of the interrogation room now viewable through the glass.

"He won't be able to see me?" Cam asked.

"No. But you'll be able to see him."

As if on cue, the door opened in the other room and a thin, tall, older man was escorted by another detective. Cam inhaled sharply and stilled.

"I need to get in there. Come on in when you're ready," Aidan said before exiting.

Hunter cupped Cam's face and forced eye contact. "Just hang in there. We're almost out of here."

"Try to be quick," was all Cam managed to force out.

Hunter's chest tightened when he saw the pain in Cameron's expression. He nodded, gave Cam a quick kiss then exited the room to join Aidan. He entered the interrogation room and stood silently in the corner as Aidan began to fire off questions.

John Pierce sat in his chair and glanced everywhere but at Aidan or Hunter. He straightened his shirt and exhaled heavily with each question Aidan asked.

"Answer my question, Mr. Pierce," Aidan said.

"You still haven't told me why the hell you brought me back to this godforsaken place."

"You are being questioned about what happened ten years ago and your relationship with Mr. Mackler," Aidan clarified.

John slowly turned to Aidan with a grin. "I don't have a relationship with Mackler. I'm not a queer like my boy."

Hunter pushed off from his place in the corner and stood planted, his feet wide and arms crossed. His jaw muscle ticked and the vein at his temple pulsed. "I swear, if you don't start talking, I'm going to rip that smirk off your face."

John looked over to Hunter and sneered.

In a flash, Hunter pushed forward, grabbed Cameron's father and pressed him up against the wall. John's eyes filled with horror. His face began to darken from the pressure grip of Hunter's arm across his neck. He could feel the old man begin to shake before deciding to release him.

John leaned on the back of the chair and rubbed his throat. He looked at Aidan, his eyes bulging. "He can't do that to me," John said on a gasp. "That's like harassment or something. He can't threaten me."

Aidan pulled his pen out of his jacket and thumbed through the sheets in the folder. "I haven't seen or heard anything. So I don't know what you're talking about."

Hunter smiled wickedly. "Start talking."

"Back off and I'll talk."

Hunter stepped away. Aidan looked over to Hunter with a scowl. Hunter didn't care. He could barely control the rage thrumming through his body at the thought of this man starting the chain of events in Cam's life for the last decade.

Aidan turned to John again. "Talk."

John straightened his clothes and returned to his seat, cautiously watching Hunter who retreated to his spot in the corner. "Is this how you guys do things over here? He's obviously not a cop by the look of all that bruising on his face. What is he, your muscle?"

"He's the guy who can put your ass away for the rest of your miserable life so I suggest you shut up about everything other than what happened ten years ago."

Cameron's father straightened in his chair. "Mackler told me my boy and his were together. Since my boy shot his, he thought it was fair for Cammy to do some time."

"And you thought that was his decision to make?" Aidan said.

John shrugged. "When I resisted, he offered up some money. I realized really quick that the quieter I was, the higher the offer got. I was quiet for a long time," he finished with a laugh, which he immediately stifled once Hunter straightened.

"So you got some money. What was the deal?" Aidan asked.

"If I talk, what do I get?"

Hunter inched forward.

John rose from his seat and stepped back against the wall. "Keep him the hell away from me," John yelled and pointed toward Hunter. "I don't mind dishing the dirt on Mackler. He's a son of a bitch who screwed me over."

"What were the terms of your arrangement?" Aidan asked again. He glared at Hunter and signaled him to return to his corner spot.

"I was supposed to sign off on the papers, take the money, and disappear. So I did."

"Were you aware of the charges?" Aidan asked after jotting down a few notes.

"What the hell did I care? That son of a bitch fucked me over and he owes me."

"How so?" Hunter asked.

John remained quiet. Hunter wasn't sure if he opted for silence simply because Hunter was asking the question. He had had enough of this bullshit. He pushed off the wall and neared John.

"Get away from me," the old man said, cautiously watching Hunter as he took a step closer. "Keep him away and I'll talk."

"Hunter, down boy," Aidan said then raised his hand to Hunter before he could protest the reprimand.

John chuckled and sat.

Aidan leaned over the table. "If you don't start talking, I'm going to let him loose and walk away. Believe me, you do not want to give him free rein. So if you want to get out of this room, you will start fucking talking now," he finished with an uncharacteristic yell.

John was visibly shaken, his focus ping-ponged between Aidan and Hunter. "I don't know what the charges were and I didn't care. He was supposed to go to juvie for a few months and that was it. I found out he served ten years so Mackler owes me at least ten times more money for keeping him inside so long."

"You son of a bitch," Hunter said with disgust. He couldn't stand being in the same room any longer with this man. He walked out and, with quick strides, was at the neighboring observation room within seconds. He hesitated for a moment, holding the door handle. He needed to compose himself before joining Cam.

He took another deep breath and finally opened the door.

The light shone through the two-way glass and cast a faint glow against Cam's features, enough to see his stern expression. Even in profile, Hunter could easily see he was making every effort to maintain his composure.

"He fucking owes me more money," John's tinny voice echoed through the speaker.

Hunter immediately reached for the switch to turn off the audio.

Cam had heard everything.

Hunter closed his eyes and exhaled as he replayed the prior exchange in his head.

He looked over to Cam again. He remained motionless and took slow deep breaths as he focused on the exchange in the room. Aidan was now standing, hovering over Cameron's father and talking with a sneer.

"Cam?"

He watched as Cam stood, stock-still, fixated on his father through the glass.

"Do you want me to stay or give you some time alone?" he asked, hoping for some cue to keep the worry at bay.

Cam continued to stare without saying a word.

It was unbearable to stand on the sideline but he needed to let Cam process everything that had happened at his own pace. Otherwise, he'd simply lock it away until a panic attack surfaced.

His instincts told him to wait.

Hunter leaned back against the door and grabbed the door handle behind him. He needed something to ground him to the opposite side of the room when all he wanted to do was race over to Cam.

He can handle this. He's stronger than he thinks he is.
He chanted, hoping to convince his stubborn mind that if Cam needed him, he would call for him—even though Cam had never asked for anything.

So he waited.

* * * *

Cam was terrified to move. He was in a tailspin and the slightest movement would result in his crash and burn. His protective iron wall wobbled. Everyone had decided to appear from his past, all at once, to remind him of how worthless he was to those who were supposed to love him. His father had abandoned him long ago and simply confirmed it with his words today. His sister felt guilty—a prison of her own doing. She was in search of forgiveness, nothing more.

He fought to gather the little bit of dignity he'd barely managed to hold on to.

Flashbacks of his mother and their special times held him together all these years but his memories grew fainter with each passing year. He didn't even have a photograph to remind him of the lines that shaped her face. How could he expect anyone to love him if he had difficultly remembering the face of the one person who did?

He inhaled a slow, shaky breath and closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together. A tingle in his head waited to take over.

Cam opened his eyes and looked at the frail figure through the glass. His father's life of drinking had obviously caught up with him. He had aged, quite ungracefully. The hands, which had landed too often on him in anger during a drunken state, were now deformed. Karma was a bitch and she had shown no mercy on the man.

He swallowed hard, trying to rebuild his defenses as he replayed everything he had heard. Every word echoed in his mind and the underlying disgust in his father's tone.

Cam took another slow deep breath, hoping to control the panic attack he knew would come crashing in if he allowed it to take over.

He watched as Aidan cuffed his father then exited the room. He swallowed, trying to fight the tightness in his throat and the pain in his chest.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He took another deep breath and fought the prickling sensation starting to take over.

He could feel Hunter's gaze on him, caressing every inch of his skin.

Hunter was an anomaly. Cam had not been able to decipher why this man was still standing by his side through all this. Why Hunter wanted him when his own family had discarded him so easily.

"Why?" he finally managed to voice past the huge lump that had managed to take over his throat. He reached for the wall to steady himself as he waited for Hunter's response, fearing he would abandon him as well.

"I don't know why your father would have done what he did. He's an asshole. I'm not going to attempt to come up with an excuse or reason for his stupidity."

"No, not him."

Hunter took a step closer. His step was different—usually more determined, certain of its destination. These steps were lighter, hesitant. Insecure.
Odd
. Hunter didn't
do
insecure.

Cam turned his head to make eye contact. The pained look in those piercing silver eyes shot a stab of remorse throughout Cam's body. His eyes stung and his throat constricted even more. He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the sudden, sharp pain.

"Why are
you
still here?" He swallowed again, that fucking lump in his throat made it too difficult to speak.

"You didn't tell me to leave."

He turned to face Hunter.

Hunter hadn't moved. He stood vigilant, watching him, waiting.

Cam closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets to hide the tremble. He was at the brink of falling apart. He exhaled heavily. The lump finally leaving him long enough to allow for more than just a few choice words.

"Why are
you
still here…with me? You heard what he said, what he did. You were there when Jas walked away. Why are you still sticking around?"

"You asked me to not give up on you."

"Everyone leaves, Hunter," he said, exhaling heavily as he looked upward.

"You are stubborn. I've told you a billion times already, I'm not going anywhere," Hunter said. He moved closer, his steps more certain, closer to his usual gait.

"Everyone wants something from me then they leave when they get it. What do you want?" he said in a more elevated tone.

Hunter took the final steps and stood in front of Cam. He reached up and cupped Cam's face. "I want you."

"You've already had me…a few times actually."

"I'm being serious."

Cam pleaded with his eyes. "I don't understand." He stepped away, unable to handle the emotion screaming through Hunter's eyes. He wanted—needed—to believe, but everything that had happened in his life had caused him to become jaded.