The One That Got Away (5 page)

“
What
is this?” he barked, as he tipped her head back. Cammy brought
her hands up and gripped his wrists, pulling out of his hold, but not
before Will saw the scar was big—fucking massive—and all
along her throat. She turned from him again, and this time she placed
her hand over her throat, covering it from his view.

“
Please
leave,” she whispered, almost too quiet to hear—but Will
had heard it. He watched as she shivered—trembled—as she
stood alone, looking out the small window.

Will
couldn’t breathe as his chest ratcheted tighter and tighter.
His head swam with the image of the injury on her skin—her
perfect, perfect skin. Anger clawed at his throat, even as questions
bolted through his mind.

What
had happened to her?

Fuck!

Before
he could think of anything better to do, he strode up to Cammy and
dragged her into his arms. At first she went stiff as a board, but as
Will stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, she sank into
his hold and buried her face into his chest. She even went as far as
to grip his shirt with her tightly fisted hand.

“
Shh—I
have you.” He spoke into her hair, sounding gentle and calm,
when the reality was he was dangerously close to exploding. She
trembled against him and fury built in his mind. Time ticked by as
Will held Cammy in a bear’s grip. His mind played scenarios and
reasons over and over until he simply had to know.

“
What
happened?” He tried for calm, but even he had to admit he
sounded furious. A deep pulse throbbed inside him even as a cold
shock cooled his veins.

She
didn’t reply for a long time. Will began to formulate another
way of asking, when she pulled away a little. He was tempted to drag
her back into his arms, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that
she kept hold of his shirt, he would have. The need to protect her
had fired deep in his gut, the violent pull to avenge and strike back
sizzled like a cauldron in his stomach. His Cammy had been hurt, and
he hadn’t been around to stop it.

“
It
happened a long time ago now.” Her voice was faint, broken. The
sound squeezed his throat like an iron fist.

“
What
did?” he asked, forcing her to continue, forcing the words from
his tightly gripped jaw. He had a horrible feeling about the way she
was acting. Something ticked inside his mind that he couldn’t
quite work out, but it was a feeling—a gut-feeling so cold it
chilled him through.

She
took another step back, but Will pulled her close to him again. She
sighed with exasperation and looked up. Her eyes—oh, God damn
it, how he missed her eyes. They shone, even through her sadness.
They called to him—spoke to something inside him—they
always had. And now, he knew, they always would.

“
Please
don’t hold me like this,” she asked, but didn’t
sound angry—just pleading. She wriggled a bit, but didn’t
really try to break his hold.

“
Are
you married?” he asked, and almost preened when she frowned and
shook her head.

“
No.”
Her humorless laugh made him frown.

“
Do
you have a boyfriend?” he asked, hating that the prick from the
bar flashed into his mind.

“
No.”
This time she didn’t laugh, but only shook her head with a slow
movement that spoke of defeat.

“
Why?”

Cammy
darted her stare upward, and Will lost his breath when an emotion he
didn’t recognize flashed in her eyes. He didn’t know what
she had thought at that moment; he just knew the sadness in her eyes
hurt him deeply.

“
Why?”
She laughed; an empty, hollow sound. She pushed out of his grip and
turned her back on him again. “Oh, I don’t know. Because
I…can’t.” Bitterness fell from her words, it
dripped into the room and coated Will’s ears.

This
wasn’t Cammy. This wasn’t the Cammy he knew. Her scar
flashed inside his mind and he wondered if the Cammy he had known
even existed now.

“
What
happened?” he asked again. This time he expected her to answer.
She looked at him over her shoulder, her lovely hair flopped behind
her. She stared at him, clearly calculating her options.

Tell
him
—
or
not?
That’s what was in her eyes, and Will held his breath wondering
if actually he wanted to know. What would it do to him to know the
details of her scars? For a man as self-assured and as confident as
Will, the idea that he couldn’t change it—couldn’t
take her memories and scars away—tugged at his last nerve.

“
What
happened?”
he asked once more. Clearly a glutton for punishment, he took another
step closer. She turned fully and huffed out a breath.

“
I
was attacked,” she answered cryptically, plainly and with much
snap to her tone. Will took a deep breath and tipped his head for her
to continue. The fact that she’d been attacked was clear—no
one could do that to themselves—but he wanted to know who to
kill.

And
God help him, he felt enraged enough to actually do it.

Silence
beat in the small room as he stubbornly waited her out. After a long
moment she dropped into her desk chair.

“
About
a year after you left—I was attacked.” She shrugged as if
it were no big thing, and that one movement stole his control. Will
dropped to the floor in front of her and gripped her knees. She
stared at him wide-eyed but didn’t move away.

“
Don’t
shut me out, Cammy. Tell me!” He had to remind himself to
breathe. He hadn’t meant to shout, but something had snapped
inside him at seeing her hurt—scarred. All this time he had
convinced himself she was better without him, better finding a life
with him no longer in it. And now, learning she had been attacked and
was living with the reminder—he was barely breathing through
his anger.

She
frowned and looked at his hands on her legs. Will had the mad urge to
squeeze her—to shake her until she shouted back or even slapped
him. This weird silence was unbearable.

“
Why
do you care?” There was no anger in her voice—just dull,
heartbreaking indifference.

“
What?”
he stammered out. “What do you mean?”
Shit,
that hurt
.
Her cold words felt like a kick in the stomach.

“
You
left…” she whispered, the sound a spear right to his
heart.

She
stood up, leaving him kneeling on the floor—stunned. What was
he supposed to say to that? It was true; he had left and not been
there for her when she clearly had needed him. He stood up and
watched her busy around her desk, words fell silent on his tongue as
his mind berated him with taunting words.

She
blames you…

She
picked up a set of keys and turned to him,

“
I
have to help in the bar—so if you don’t mind…”
She pointed to the door, and Will stared at her with a wide-mouthed
mute expression.

She
does blame me…

“
I
do mind,” he spluttered, completely thrown by the new, surly
Cammy. She just took a deep breath and stepped past him, grabbed the
door handle and looked up at him. Will frowned when he saw how
determined she looked, her hazel eyes flecked with gold, sparked with
fury, and Will knew when to back off.

“
What
happened to you, Cammy?” he asked, but regretted it immediately
when the light dimmed from her eyes. She turned her head and pointed
towards the bar.

“
Go.”

Chapter
Four

The
evening went by in a blur of serving customers and avoiding both
Chris’s and Will’s burning stares. Chris stood behind the
bar with her, and every now and then Cammy felt his questioning glare
on her. She just had to thank the busy night and thirsty punters for
the fact that he hadn’t had a moment to talk to her.

Will
sat in the corner of the pub. He didn’t blatantly watch her,
but she knew he was aware of her every move. She didn’t dare
look over to his spot in the bar. Guilt was a heavy ball of dust
inside her; her thoughts kept chastising her for how she had treated
him…again. She was a spitting cat, a defensive feline
sometimes, and it wasn’t Will’s fault. It was hers.

She
wasn’t comfortable discussing her attack—especially not
with Will. The last time he had seen her, she had been young,
fun-loving and perfect.

She
raised her gaze from the pint she was pulling, and spied him slumped
over his table, nearly empty pint glass in one hand, phone in the
other. He was chatting away, looking irritated and cross. A sting of
guilt prodded her again. She hated treating him the way she had, but
those solid defenses she had built to keep people like Chris and
other potential interests out were difficult to break down—even
for Will.

She
took the money from the customer and kept watching Will from the
corner of her eye. Her heart sped when he stood up and wandered
towards the bar. She looked up when he placed his empty glass down,
desperate to say she was sorry, frantic to apologize and see him
smile at her as he used to.

But,
God, it was so hard to be herself—the old Cammy—again.

Words
stalled on her tongue when his dark eyes snared her and enfolded her
in heat. Electricity charged over her skin and popped up in little
goose-bumps. But it wasn’t the look she had hoped for; there
was no affection in his gaze, just bitterness and hurt.

But
still her body reacted to him, as it always had. A flash of memory of
the young man he used to be, all smiles and awkward glances, played
in her mind. No longer that person, she could see he had changed too.

She
opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She watched mutely
as Will turned and left the bar. She stared at the door long after he
left, and only jumped back into action when a customer yelled for a
refill. Jerking back into work, Cammy pulled another pint and
wondered if she might faint from the pain of it all.

For
the rest of the evening, Cammy could not get Will from her mind. The
way he had looked just before he left the bar was something Cammy
never wanted to see again. It was resignation, pained acceptance, and
it reminded her so coldly of the night he had left when he was
eighteen.

The
worst night of her life… No, possibly not the worst
.
She lifted her hand and fingered the thick line on her throat
.
The second worst…

“
Please
come with me,” he had begged as the autumn rain had fallen on
his wet hair. He held a small duffle bag and a wallet with not much
money. His heart was in his desperate stare, his words were so broken
and bleak. But Cammy had said no, sure he would be back. Certain that
after taking some time out, he would return.

How
wrong she had been.

If
Cammy had known then—that would be the last she would see of
him for ten years—she would have followed without a second look
back
.
Even
at eighteen she knew Will was the only man for her—the only
person she could ever give herself to.

The
bar had emptied out a little and the night buzz had gone. It was only
an hour off closing, and Cammy suddenly realized she couldn’t
wait for the pub to close before she went to his hotel. She had
thought since the moment he left she would go to him to apologize;
she realized now, with frantic panic, that she couldn’t wait.

What
if he disappeared again?