Cam’s “No!” was loud and just this side of desperate.
“I’ll go,” Jamie said. “Keep you both updated.”
Nic clasped his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Jamie nodded. Then to Cam, “Whatever you need.”
“I need you there.”
And by the death grip Cam had on Nic’s wrist, he needed him here. The ache in Nic’s chest eased a little.
Twenty-One
Cam slumped on the end of his hotel bed, shower-damp ends of his hair dripping water down the sides of his face and neck and over his chest, the latter heaving every so often. Whenever he remembered the wall of pictures of Erin in that basement or all those graves in Harper’s backyard or the fact that his mother could die at any moment.
He’d still be at the hospital if it hadn’t been for his nieces and nephews who’d refused to leave unless Uncle Cam left, thinking he knew best. That if Uncle Cam thought it okay to leave, then Nonna would recover, or at least hang on until they came back. Uncle Cam didn’t know that. What Cam knew was the kids needed sleep and the least he could do for his family was encourage that, seeing as he’d brought them nothing else but misery this past week. While it looked like Harper had likely taken Erin, they didn’t know where he or Erin were, what he’d done to her, or why she’d been taken in the first place. He had nothing to tell his mother, who was in a coma, barely hanging on, as if she was waiting for an answer he still didn’t have.
“You should lie down for a few.”
Cam shifted his gaze from the darkness outside the window to Nic standing in the doorway, coffee cup in hand. Hair likewise damp, he’d swung by his room, showered, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Further than Cam had gotten in just his boxers.
“You shouldn’t have brought me coffee if you mean for me to sleep.”
“I didn’t actually believe you would.” Nic crossed the room and sat next to him, handing him the cup with a smile.
He drank, but the warm beverage failed to chase away the cold that had settled inside him. “Any word from Matt or Jamie?”
Nic shook his head. “Checked in with them while you were in the shower. Still chasing down leads.”
“We should get going.” Cam threw back the rest of the coffee and started to stand.
Nic’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back down. “You need to breathe, Boston.”
“I’m breathing just fine.” He tried to shake off Nic’s hand, and when that didn’t work, tried forcefully pushing it away.
In moves too swift for his exhausted brain and body to keep up with, Nic knocked the cup from his hand, grabbed his wrist, crossed his arm in front of Cam’s body, and swung a leg behind him. The end result was Cam locked in Nic’s arms, his back to Nic’s chest. He tested the hold, and Nic tightened it. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Cam growled in frustration. “Dominic, we need to go?—”
“Do you remember what you said to me last April in your kitchen?”
“I said a lot of things that night.”
Holding Cam’s right wrist with his left hand, arm stretched across his body, locking him in, Nic slid his right hand free and caressed the lower right quadrant of Cam’s torso. “Do you remember what you said about the tattoo I have on me here?”
Cam’s skin there was bare, but in the same place on Nic, a rainbow-colored frog held a SEAL trident. He’d gotten the tattoo when Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had been repealed. “We don’t celebrate the victories enough,” Cam said, recalling the words. “But you’ re the one who said it.”
“You made me realize it.” Nic slid his hand the rest of the way over Cam’s stomach and around his waist, pulling him back tight. “You rescued Shannon Murphy. You saved her, Cameron. That’s a victory and not a small one. I know there’s a lot of darkness right now but there’s light too. Shannon’s safe.”
Cam heaved a giant breath, remembering the way Shannon’s mother had arrived in Lincoln and wrapped her daughter in her arms, crying tears of joy.
He heaved another breath. And choked on it, realizing his mother would likely never have that moment.
Chin on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his, Nic whispered, “I’ve got you” in his ear. “Let it out.”
“Mom will never have that,” he croaked out through another stuttered breath. “I let her down as a kid and now I’ve let her down as an adult. She may die without an answer about her only daughter, my sister, who I should have protected that day.” He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head back on Nic’s shoulder, tears leaking out and joining the other tracks of wetness on his face. “Oh God, she’ll never know. I tried . . .” His words drifted off, trapped behind the lump in his throat.
Nic clenched him tighter, and Cam swore it was the only thing keeping him together. That and Nic’s faith in him. “She knows, Boston. That you dedicated the rest of your life to atoning for that day. That you help other families so they don’t lose their loved ones too. That you’re here trying to give her resolution.”
