“Then explain to me how her bakery was burned down and she’s in the hospital. That happened onyourwatch,Mountain,” she emphasizes with disdain.
Christ. She really does fucking hate me.
“I saw her this morning. She was baking cinnamon rolls. Nothing seemed out of place.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself. For fuck’s sake, it’shergrandma. I go outta my way to keep that old woman safe and happy. She’s become a surrogate mother, and that means a lot to me since I lost my parents.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tight I can hear it groan back.
“I asked one thing of Scythe,” she mutters. “One thing. Keep Granny Jo safe.” Cami’s arms fold across her chest as she scowls. “Why can’t you bikers keep your word?”
I bite my tongue until I taste the coppery tang of blood. The last thing I want to do is say something I can’t take back.
Cami has no idea of the sacrifices I’ve made for her. She doesn’t know what I gave up for her, to give her the life and the future she wanted. There’s no point in admitting it now. She won’t believe me. I’m the villain in her story, and there’s no way I’m changing her mind. If I tell her the truth now, it’ll seem like I did it because there was something for me to gain. That was never my motivation. I only wanted her to be happy. Hell, that’s what I want now.
I just want her to stay in Raven’s Crest and find that happinesshere, where I can someday have a chance to prove I’m not the bad guy she’s conjured in her head.
Uncomfortable silence stretches in the truck until it’s taut like a rubber band, ready to snap.
Cami finally drops her arms and sighs. “I want to talk to Scythe.”
I blink, processing what she means by that. Scythe is the president of the club. He’s a great guy, one of my best friends. But he’s a biker, an outlaw. I’m not sure what she wants to say to him. It’s got me curious, and I can’t let it go. “Why?”
“To find the asshole who hurt my Granny.” She gives me a look like I’m too thick-headed to understand. “I want his help hunting this guy down.”
Woah. I tilt my head to the side, absorbing what she said because she surprised me with that. “Well, darlin’, he’s not the right guy to ask.”
She narrows her eyes. “Who is?”
“Me.”
“Rex Coleman,” she spits like its venom on her tongue.
I swerve the car to the left and pull onto the shoulder before coming to a stop. I shift into park and turn to Cami. “I’m the one who’s going after this motherfucker. You can ask Scythe if you want, but he’ll send me anyway because I’m the V.P. of this club, and when I’m seeking vengeance for my family, the club has my back.”
Cami opens her mouth to argue and then closes it. It’s a full, adorable, static-fueled minute before she blurts her response. “We’re not your family,” she argues, and I catch the fiery green stirring to life in her eyes. She’s agitated.
“Your Granny Jo is family to my brothers and me,” I say with enough conviction that she purses her lips, knowing there’s no point in arguing since I’ve already won. And I’m right.
You’re family to me, too, Blissy Girl.
Someday, I’ll tell her.
“You better find the guy,” she finally says, closing her eyes.
“I will,” I vow.
Cami suddenly looks drained. I see the puffy circles under her eyes, and then I remember the time difference.Shit.She’s been up all night.
“You want coffee?” I casually ask as I merge back onto the highway. I don’t need to know her order. It’s locked in my brain under a file titled All Things Camille Parker.
“Yeah.”
I don’t tell her where we’re going. It’s not necessary. I drive to her favorite coffee shop since it’s on the way, the one we’ve been to a dozen times together in the past. It just never felt important before now.
We use the drive-thru because I know she’s anxious to get to Granny Jo. I place her order without thinking about it, pay the cashier, and grab our drinks. I hand her the mocha latte with all the correct modifications as her jaw pops open. She quickly closes it before taking a sip. I know it’s perfect when a sweet sigh escapes her lips.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her relax since I picked her up.
As we resume the trip, I expect her to ask how I remember her coffee order. She doesn’t. It’s quiet, but the hostility isn’t nearly as present now.
