“No, I’m not,” I agree. “But you’ve been uncomfortable for a while. Let me make it up to you.” I take her hand, rubbing my thumb soothingly into her palm.
She sniffs, pulling herself upright. “Beg for it,” she orders.
“Now, I think you know what I’m going to say to that.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her wrist right at the pulse point. At the same time, Fraser nips at the side of her throat. She gasps, her body jerking. A pink flush is rolling down her cleavage. I want to lick it.
“Fine,” she says imperiously. “I will permit you to get me off. You can help Fraser. Just this once.”
“Just once?” I trail my lips up her forearm. “Shame.”
“Or maybe more,” she babbles as Fraser cups her breasts. “I will review on a case-by-case basis. But you’ve lost your automatic pass.”
I laugh and slide off the coffee table onto my knees, draping one of her soft legs over my shoulder. “Well, then, I suppose I’d better make this count.”
There’s the sudden sound of shattering glass from the kitchen, and we all freeze.
“Cameron?” I call when the silence stretches on too long. “Are you okay?”
No response. I hear the skitter of soft paws on tile, then a bark. Fraser and I exchange a look. I gently unhook Summer’s leg, and we all head to the kitchen.
Cameron is lying on the floor in a pile of broken glass and whisky. His face is dead white, and he’s breathing hard, clutching his knee. Scout is standing guard by his side, nudging him with his nose. He looks up and barks another alert at me.
I feel frozen.
No. No, no, no.
“What happened?” Summer cries behind me.
Cameron doesn’t look up. “Leg went. Dropped the bottle.” He pushes Scout away. “Away, boy. You’ll cut yourself.”
I crouch at Cameron’s side, suddenly so scared I can’t breathe right. “How bad is it?”
He waves me off. His eyes are glassy with pain. “Don’t fuss.”
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. “Can you stand? Did you cut yourself? Here—” I lean over to help him up.
He shoves me away. “I saidI’m fine,” he snarls. “Leave me alone.” He grabs hold of the kitchen table and slowly levers himself to his feet. We’re all silent as he limps painfully out of the room. Scout looks at me, whines, then trots after him.
Summer goes to follow them both, but Fraser catches her and pulls her into a hug instead. “Leave him, honey.”
“But he looks like he’s in so much pain! Is that normal?”
“Aye. He gets these flare-ups, sometimes. I can promise you that he wants to be alone right now.” He sighs and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll get a mop.”
I shake my head numbly. “I’ll clean up. Take her to bed.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Fraser nods, leading Summer out of the room. I look down at the puddle of whisky spreading across the black tile. In the low light, it almost looks like blood.
The guilt that lives inside me gnaws. It chews on my organs. It sucks on my veins. Soon, it will hollow me out completely.
I start picking up glass. Even though it’s a clear night, I could swear I hear the howl of a storm across the hills.
FORTY-SEVEN
CAMERON
The next morning, I wake up slowly.
I feel like shit. My eyes are gritty, like I’ve been crying in my sleep, and my body is sticky with cold sweat. Light filters around the gaps in my curtains.
