A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House) (5 page)

Julian half smiled.

"J, can we do that?" Matt asked eagerly as he set the food on the table.

"Yeah. Cam, where should we add them and what did you have in mind?"

Cam shrugged. "Um, some flower beds out front would…uh…work."

Matt grabbed each dish and served the pasta.

Cam leaned over his plate and inhaled the delicious scent of the colorful dish before him.

"So when do you want to start?" Matt asked.

Cameron stopped spinning the pasta on his fork and looked up. He tried to contain the excitement starting to build. Between the possibility of doing some landscaping and having his first home-cooked meal in almost a decade, he had a hard time formulating coherent thoughts. "Uh, start? You want my help?"

Cam was not going to get excited. He scooped a spoonful of pasta in his mouth and closed his eyes as the burst of flavors exploded across his taste buds. "What is this?"

"You like it?" Matt asked.

Cameron had his mouth stuffed full of pasta so he simply nodded.

"Spaghetti Carbonara. It's one of J's favorites. Well, anything Italian is his favorite," he finished with a smirk and a sideways look to Julian.

"Do you cook?" Julian asked.

Cam swallowed the mouthful of pasta. He had cooked a few basic meals out of necessity before going in, but it had been far too long to remember the details. "Um, no, didn't cook while I was inside," he responded. Thankfully he didn't have kitchen duty with the bear named Gino or Tommy who had a penchant for pain. "But…um…I'd like to learn."

"Cool," Julian responded as he rubbed his hands together. "I'll be the guinea pig. I can eat pretty much anything."

"I can show you how to do some basics then just let your creativity go from there. J can show you some practical stuff," Matt interjected.

"Uh…like how to open a can and read a label," Julian said with a chuckle. "Oh yeah, and how to use a microwave!" he added with enthusiasm.

Matt softly caressed Julian's cheek. "You do make an awesome pizza."

Julian turned his face to kiss Matt's palm. He then looked to Cam and schooled his features. "So, about those flower beds. What did you have in mind?"

Cameron hesitantly suggested a few flowers and waited for Matt or Julian to cut him off. When they didn't interrupt, he found the words came easier. He mentioned the best location around the house to set up the flower beds to get the right amount of light during the day. He had learned all about flowers, plants, and proper soils as a child during his endless hours in the garden with his mother—it had been their private getaway.

He stopped talking and saw Julian jotting down notes while Matt appeared mesmerized, listening to him ramble about plants. "Um, sorry. You can pretty much set up the flower beds anywhere and get some plants or flowers that will work wherever they're needed," he finished with a shrug.

"J, did you get all that?" Matt craned his neck to see Julian's notes.

"Yup."

"Once you've got the job situation squared away, we'll see what times are best with your schedule and we'll make it work," Matt said.

"You want me to help?" Cam asked again.

"More like you're going to do it and we'll help. Matt does not have a green thumb, he's tried, and I wouldn't know the difference between a"—Julian looked at his notes—"Bougainvy and Lirop."

Cameron chuckled. "Bougainvillea and Liriope."

"See, there you go."

Having the chance to do all the landscaping needed from setting up the flower beds to picking out the plants was just too damn exciting. He wanted to jump at the chance but had learned years ago not to get too enthusiastic about things since they usually ended in some disappointment. "Yeah, okay."

Julian responded with a half smile.

Cameron nodded. Nope, he wasn't getting excited. Not even a little bit.

After dinner, apparently it was Matt's turn to do the dishes for the evening. Cam and Julian retreated to the living room area tasked with choosing something to watch on TV. Julian sat on the couch and grabbed the remote.

Cam stood silently and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Change," he finally said, shuffling his feet.

Julian looked up at him and set the remote back on the table.

"You wanted to know the trigger for the attacks."

"Then you're shit out of luck. Change is inevitable. Get used to it," Julian said.

"Gee, thanks." Cam looked away for a moment. "I'm not used to people being nice to me," he said uncomfortably. Maybe stroking the guy's ego about his partner would stop him from poking around in Cam's business. "Matt was…nice."

"That's his nature. You're going to have to get used to that if you're living here. Try again."

"You're a stubborn son of a bitch."

Julian half shrugged. "I've been called worse. Don't change the subject."

Cam exhaled dramatically. "The thought of going back to prison, back to
that
life."

Julian looked at him intently, encouraging him to continue.

"And that all this wasn't real somehow," he finished quietly. "Hard to explain."

"Try," Julian said, glaring.

Cam shrugged and looked away.

"Matt's always telling me to 'use my words'," Julian said, mimicking Matt's understanding tone. "It's not easy but talking does help."

Cam exhaled heavily then looked up, searching for the right words. Matt and Julian were so different from everyone else he'd met in the last few years. If Sam trusted them, then maybe they weren't like the others. "It's not easy being inside. Some guys are built for that shit but it's tough. I adjusted as best as I could and figured out early on what I needed to do to make it. Every now and then, I lose my focus and I think about the what-if."

"The what-if?"

Cam shook his head. "It's stupid. I know better, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like…"

"To have a normal life, a home, and someone to love who'd love you back regardless of all your fucked up shit," Julian finished his thought.

Cam looked over to him with newfound understanding. "Yeah."

"Then reality sets in and you freak out because you want it so much you can almost touch it but then realize it's either not real or it's slipping away," Julian added in a faraway voice.

Cam nodded.

"Understandable basis for a freak-out."

"You sound a little more insightful about this than the usual person," Cam observed.

Julian crossed his arms and leaned back in the couch. "This is about you not me. I take it that's why putting you by the window settled you. It let you know you weren't in prison anymore."

"I don't know. I guess it helped to know I wasn't back there," he said quietly.
In that hell.

Julian nodded. "Duly noted. Aside from panic attacks, what else is there? Do you get angry?"

"What?"

"Pissed off, hatin' life, pitch a fit, shit like that. Do I need to worry we've got a hothead under our roof?"

Cam shook his head then shrugged. "I guess that's probably what most people would expect. Yeah, I get pissed, I'm human, but I try not to get lost in that shit. I've seen what hate does to a man." He shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked away. "I don't want to be
that
guy. I know my limits and I know my temper enough to control it most of the time. I have the occasional panic attack when I make the mistake of wishing for something more. It's more embarrassing than anything."

"It's not a mistake to dream or have hope," Julian said firmly.

"Well, that shit gets beaten out of you pretty quick inside."

Julian leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting his arms on his thighs. "There's nothing wrong with wanting for something then fighting like hell to get it or freaking out when you think it's going to be taken away."

"It's a weakness."

"It's called being human," Julian corrected.

Cam winced.

"You just need to ease back into things. Pace yourself. If you feel the need to punch something, it better not have a pulse. Understand?"

Cam nodded.

"When you sense yourself starting to get overwhelmed and need to talk, just call me."

"I don't have a phone."

"Matt will get you one."

"I don't need one."

"Matt wants to get you a phone, so you're getting a phone. It won't be fancy. I think one of the rules is that it can't have a camera. He'll know."

"But I don't—"

"Don't upset Matt," Julian said, punctuating his statement with another glare.

"Okay."

Lying in bed later that evening, Cam thought about Matt and Julian. Had he seen them apart, he never would have guessed they were a couple simply because they were so different in personalities and appearances. But after being in the same room with them for a short period of time, it was impossible to deny the sizzle in the air, the subtle touches, the casual glances—they just worked, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces that were meant to fit together perfectly.

Cameron yawned as sleep weighed his eyes.

He wondered what it would be like to be that attuned to another person. He didn't think he'd ever get a chance to connect with someone on that level considering his history, but it sure as hell didn't stop him from wanting it as he finally shut his eyes and let sleep take over.

Cameron shot upright in bed. His heart raced as he looked side to side.
It's just a dream.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. He gripped the sheets then slowly opened his eyes again. Looking around at his new room, Cameron realized this part of the dream was actually real. He got out of bed and walked over to the window.

Before he was moved to the C Block, his first cell had a small slit of an opening along the top edge. It was too high in the cell and too narrow to actually enjoy a view past the metal bars and mesh but enough to allow small rays of light to cut through and form a mild honeycomb pattern along the wall against his cot. After his relocation to the C wing soon after the start of his term, windows were non-existent in cells. He was only allowed outside into the common areas on specific days, during certain times, typically in the middle of the afternoon when the heat was at its worst and the sun at its highest point; where a look up would leave one blinded for doing so. That was assuming, of course, he wasn't in solitary or some other conveniently scheduled punishment that conflicted with the scheduled days. After so many years unable to feel the heat of the sun against his skin, he had become pale and his hair darker than he ever remembered.

He recalled one of his meetings with Sam.

"What do you miss the most?" Sam had asked.

"Sunrises."

"Not family or friends?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Sunrises," Cam firmly restated.

His father and sister hadn't visited him in prison. He had accepted it.

Seeing the bright, beautiful sun on those few occasions, although blinding and painful at times, was a welcomed reprieve. Missing the view of the rising sun was unbearable.

The sunrise was a symbol of a new start. When they were taken away, so was his hope for a new beginning.

Cam placed his palm on the glass and felt the warmth of the outside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath then rested his forehead to the window's edge before finally opening his eyes again.

Still in the early morning hours, he could see the beginnings of a sunrise casting a hint of light across the clouds. He stared out into the sky, waiting for the sun to make its appearance. He didn't care if the buildings were blocking most of his view; the sun would rise above them and color the sky in various shades of pink, yellow, and blue.

His first sunrise in almost a decade.

This was as close to free as he had been in so many years.

Lost in thought, Cameron didn't know how long he stood there with his memories, observing the wash of colors spread across the sky. After the sun completed its ascension, he remained there for some time, watching the start of the day, the people walking in the street, the cars driving by. So much activity, color, and beauty.

He smiled as he thought about dinner the night before and the effort Matt and Julian had made to welcome him. It was nice to be involved, matter to someone, finally have a normal conversation and contribute something to a productive discussion.

Shaking his head free of the spiraling thoughts, he concentrated on the here and now. He couldn't resist the thought of taking another shower.

As he stood under the showerhead and let the blissfully warm rain of water soak him, he lathered up with that citrus soap he was starting to love. He absently washed himself as his mind wandered to the same nightmare that haunted him—he was finally out of prison, but somehow they managed to find him and send him back
inside
as soon as they'd heard he was free.

It wasn't paranoia.

He had been watched, constantly. They had men inside, both inmates and guards, who kept him in check with subtle threats and unmistakable innuendo to ensure he kept to himself. He was always on alert, careful of what he said and to whom. He began a slow friendship with the first inmate he shared a room with. The need to interact with someone was just too tempting. As soon as the comfort level rose, Cameron was sent to isolation for no apparent reason. When he returned to his cell a week later, he was greeted by a different cellmate. He never heard from his friend again or saw him on the prison grounds.