“How do you know? He hasn’t fought in forever.”
“Everyone knows that.” He stares forward. “You’ve never seen videos of his old fights?”
“No.”
His eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Really?”
“No, Mase, I mean it’s not like we sat around reliving the glory days when we were together.”
“Huh. If I were him, I’d brag about that shit to anyone who listened.”
Really. Why have I never thought to Google Cameron’s fighting career? Funny, it’s not something he’d ever bragged about, and come to think of it, anytime we talked about his fighting it was always me pressing him for information. He never shared it willingly.
If he’s as good as Mason says, why would he hide it?
“So he was pretty good, huh?”
“No, he was the best. Fighters like that never lose their touch. It’s in their blood.”
“Wow, be careful there, Mase. It almost sounds like you’re giving the guy a compliment.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not a total asshole.” He cringes, slight but noticeable. “I’ll give him credit for getting your dad off your back and for being—”
“Whoa, what?” My heart pounds harder in my chest. “What about my dad?”
His eyes dart from the road to me. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He mumbles “shit” under his breath.
“Mason!”
“At the hospital, after your accident, your Dad showed up.”
I gasp and cover my mouth.
“Cam stepped up, told the dude he wasn’t welcome, and then ran him out of there. Spent some time with your pops outside, not sure what all went down, but Cam came back in looking like he’d just fucked a dude up.”
He did that for me? “That doesn’t make any sense.” Why would he go to the trouble to threaten the father of a woman he’s about to walk out on? Unless . . .
I study Mason’s profile, and for the first time in a long time, the guy won’t even spare me a glance. “Mase?”
“Hm?” He keeps his eyes pinned to the road ahead of him.
“What else aren’t you telling me?”
His gaze darts to mine but doesn’t commit. “What’re you talking about?”
“What is it?”
“Fuck.”
“Tell me!”
He finds something interesting outside his driver’s side window. “Can’t believe you’re hearin’ this shit from me.”
Are Cameron and D’lilah back together? Does he have a new girlfriend? What the hell is so damn important that he’s hiding it? Fear grips my stomach as I wait for a confession that will most likely kill me.
“Cam took care of your dad’s debt.”
“What?” The single word falls from my lips on a whisper.
“According to Jonah, Cam asked your dad how much it would take to get him off your back. Your pops gave a price.” He shrugs as if it’s no big thing that the man I’m in love with forked over a generous amount of his own money so that I could live free without the extra burden of my dad.
“Oh my . . .” I think back over the last few months. “My dad hasn’t made any attempt to contact me. I figured it was because he didn’t have my new number or know where I was.”
“Cam lined his pockets, paid off the loan shark who fucked up your place, and sent him off with a pretty serious warning from what I hear. Your dad’s a lush and a loser, babe, but he’s not an idiot. My guess is he knows exactly who Cam is and what he’s capable of. Even if you don’t.”
“Wow.”
“Great.” Mason’s sarcastic tone is obvious. “So much for you movin’ on, huh?”
Stunned, I swivel back to facing the highway stretched in front of us. He paid off my dad’s debt and sent him packing with money. All for me. Warmth spreads through my gut and my chest and revives the cold lifeless part of my heart that I’d reserved for Cameron. The corner of my soul that was determined to keep my feelings for him locked away bursts free and brings hope.
But the question remains. Why did he walk away at the hospital? I suppose if I’d given him a change to explain when he’d tried to at The House of Blues I would have the answer.
Thirty-Nine
Cameron
“Dad. Dad, wake up.”
I blink open my eyes to Ryder shaking my shoulder.
“Ry, what’s . . . you okay?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
I curl up to sitting and check the clock. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, no kidding. That’s why I’m waking you up.”
The sound of someone knocking on the front door has me up and moving. I don’t think it would be D’lilah. After almost fifty-six days in rehab, she graduated from the program sober and even managed to get a job working the reception desk at a high end spa and seems to love it. Ryder’s home, so unless that’s the cops banging my door down . . . The knock sounds again.
I move down the hallway with Ry on my heels. Unfortunately, the way the front door lines up to the street, I can’t see if there’s a car in my driveway, and I don’t have a peephole because, fuck, why would I need one?