“It seems like forever since I’ve been back here,” reminisced a female voice.
I saw Cameron approaching through the cracks in the wood. I recognized the woman next to him as
the only female who had been in the meeting room sitting with the other crime bosses. She was
tall and slim, with short, dark hair that was tucked behind her ears. She looked like one of
those girls that I had seen in my brother’s car magazines—the girls that made any car look
fabulous by just standing next to it.
While Cameron leafed through the duffle bag that was on the floor, the woman glanced over the
clothes that were stacked on surfaces.
“Are you sleeping in here?” she asked him.
“Sometimes,” he replied, distracted.
He found what he had been looking for and handed it to her—the pink T-shirt that I had found in
his drawer the first day I came to the farm.
“You forgot this here,” he said to her as she took the shirt.
The woman kept her eyes on his face.
“She’s still here, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“That girl who saw you killing one of Shield’s boys in the projects,” she responded.
Cameron squinted, arms crossed. “What makes you think I brought her here?”
“I heard from one of my guys that you took her home with you,” she admitted composedly.
“The board has already ruled on this, Manny. The girl will not be a problem for any of us. I
don’t intend on revisiting this issue with you.”
“The board was forced to make a decision without having all the facts. I think that they might
be interested to know that the girl is alive and that you’re keeping her here.” Her voice had
gone up an octave.
“What are you saying exactly?” he snarled.
Manny immediately became sedate. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She raised her hand and stroked his cheek. I squirmed. “I’m just wondering what interest you
have in her.”
He didn’t pull her hand away. “You know we can’t have contact like this when there are other
leaders around.”
“Do you love her?” she asked pointedly.
“Of course I don’t love her,” Cameron told her without skipping a beat.
I felt the gash in my heart rip open again.
“Then why is she here?” she demanded. “I thought I was the only one who you would ever bring
here.”
Cameron sighed like I had heard him sigh so many times with me. “I’m just bored right now,
Manny. I need something to play with, to keep me busy. When I’m done, I’ll get rid of her.”
“Well, hurry up and be done with her. I miss you. I want to be with you again,” she whined.
Manny leaned in and kissed him, on the mouth. His body was tensed, and he let her kiss him. I
couldn’t breathe, even after he had finally pushed her away.
His voice was softer now. “It was a onetime mistake that will never happen again. I can’t show
bias for one boss over the other.”
Spider came back inside, empty-handed and patiently waiting for Cameron by the closed trick
door. With an indifferent head nod, Cameron motioned to Manny to get out. Resigned, Manny
followed Cameron’s order and walked out. After Spider peeped through the eyehole, all three
stepped back through the passageway—and I was left hiding alone under a desk, shaking, beaten.
I fought back tears.
Then I ran out the door.
I followed the dirt line back through the woods, falling at least twice. I ran out at the other
end without stopping or looking to see if the guard was back at his post. In a split second, I
thought that he probably wouldn’t rat me out if he did see me—otherwise he would have had to
admit to Spider that he had let me through in the first place. Even if he did rat me out, I didn
’t care—either way, I was dead. Cameron had confirmed this himself. What I did, or didn’t do,
didn’t matter anymore. It had never mattered. I was just a pawn in Cameron’s twisted game.
I ran straight to my room and plopped myself onto the bed. My teeth and my fists were tightly
clenched and a few tears started escaping.
Chapter Eighteen:
Heated Moments
When Rocco came knocking on my door, I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand before he
came limping in.
While I leaned against the wall with my knees tucked into my chest, we sat in uncomfortable
silence.
He eyed me and finally asked the question that was bugging him. “Em, is everything okay? You
look really awful.”
Only Rocco could find a way to critique my appearance on the worse day of my life.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Are you sure? Because you look really pale—even more than normal.” He thought about it,
suddenly looked deathly afraid and pushed himself down to the foot of the bed, as far away from
me as possible. “You’re not going to throw up are you?”
I did feel like I was going to throw up, but I didn’t tell him this. “Really, I’m fine. I’m
just a bit tired, that’s all.”
He exhaled. “Good, ’cause if you’re going to puke again, I’m outta here.”