Page 3 of Camera Stays On

“Understand one thing from tonight, Purdy. You’re mine from now until forever, and I’ll kill anyone who touches you.”

My skin chilled, and as he stared me down, his words sank into my chest. They hadn’t been for her, they’d been for me.

Chapter 1

Asher

Age Twenty-Six

“ARE YOU GOING?” I grabbed the obituary Sawyer had thrown onto the kitchen table as the dogs circled around him, waiting to be fed, and sat down.

Angel Marin, aged forty, died in her sleep.

Her funeral was today.

Sawyer’s face was cold, unreadable.

“Do you think she’ll come?” he asked instead of answering. Going to the fridge, he pulled out a Monster Energy drink and popped the tab. I opted for coffee, taking a sip of my hot drink while he gulped down his cold one. Blair and Toby—our Rottweiler and Basset Hound named after our favorite found footage films—began to whine.

I stood and went over to their bowls, filling them with kibble.

“Would you if Angel were your mom?” I asked while I took their water bowls to the sink. Angel Marin was a complicated woman, but in her later years she’d gotten sober and became tolerable. She was nice, even. Despite her sobriety, it didn’t make up for the twenty years of harm she’d done to her only child, Purdy. “I doubt they even talked.”

“True.” Sawyer sighed. “Maybe I’ll go. I’ll see what I’ve got to do today.”

I knew my brother better than he did. That was his way of saying he was going, he just didn’t want to admit it. Which, if he was going, that meant I needed to. I couldn’t subject Purdy to whatever Sawyer had planned.

Sawyer didn’t like rejection.

I finished my coffee and went to shower and dress. When the wedding between him and Purdy went sour, he didn’t have anyone to help with the bills, so I let the lease run out on my apartment and moved in with him. He’d bought this house to surprise her with. Turns out there were other surprises that day.

Overall, living with Sawyer post-Purdy wasn’t awful. Neither of us dug too deep into each other’s personal lives, and we split the bills and chores with no issue. Though, as easy as it was living here, every once in a while the urge to get my own place struck. Today, as Sawyer talked about Purdy, the familiar itch showed itself.

When I returned to the kitchen, Sawyer was tossing his can in the trash, now dressed in a suit with his hair brushed.

“Well, looks like you’re not doing any work, then.” I snickered. I knew there was no way he’d miss a chance to see Purdy.

I wouldn’t either.

Sawyer tugged on his tie. He wasn’t used to dressing up. Boots and jeans were his usual.

“Yeah, I called my boss and let him know I needed to be there for my girl.” He smirked.

Like myself, Sawyer did freelance work, mostly in editing. He was his own boss. But that wasn’t what made me pause.

His girl?

I hesitated, not sure what to say. He saw my furrowed brow and rolled his eyes.

“Purdy will always be my girl, even if we’re not speaking.”

Not speaking was an understatement. He’d be lucky if she didn’t run the moment she saw him.

“I’ll see you later. Don’t wait up,” he added.

I gave him a questioning look. “Are you really expecting to bring her back here or something?”

Sawyer grinned. “It’s been a long time. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. You’ll have to feed the dogs if I’m not home in time.”