Her heart did a funny jitter thing.
She left the sink to fill and strode into the living room, grabbing her side arm from the closet on the way. Just in case. A woman home alone could be too much of a temptation to some desperate criminal, and it was late enough at night that she didn’t feel one-hundred percent safe opening the door without her gun. She checked the peep hole, her heart now threatening to gallop out of her chest at the thought of having it out with Cam tonight—
Preston.
Sighing, she tucked her weapon into her waistband and pulled her shirt out to cover it. Unlike Cam, Preston wouldn’t get why she’d answered the door with it, which was just another reason in a long list of many why it’d never work between them. Why it took her so long to figure that out, she didn’t know. She’d kick herself for it later.
She opened the door and barely got a squeak of sound out before he pulled her into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed into her hair, and his hands roamed a little too far down her back for comfort.
“For what?” She ducked out of his embrace and ignored his stricken expression.
“You haven’t heard? It’s all over the major news stations. I thought…with him being your best friend…”
“Oh. Cam.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about him being here just because he thought Cam was in the hospital.
He wrapped his arms around her again. “I’m so sorry. I’ll admit I never liked Camden, but I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I’m here for you, okay? Anything you need.”
“What are you—Cam’s fine.” She shoved at his shoulders until he backed up a step. “Vaughn got hurt, but he’s going to be okay.”
“Vaughn?”
“Yeah. Cam’s twin?”
He blinked like he had no idea what she was talking about. She planted her hands on her hips and stared in complete amazement. “Wow, you really didn’t listen to me much when we were together.”
Yet another reason their relationship wouldn’t have worked.
For the first time, she saw Preston Linz without the filter of her idealism, and she wasn’t liking what she saw. Preston put on a good act, but he only cared for one person: himself.
“Twin?” he said through his teeth. “There’s two of him?”
“Of course not. They’re two completely separate people who happen to look alike. What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’re acting like—Oh, shit. The sink!” She left him standing in the open doorway and ran back to the kitchen, catching the faucet just in time before the basin overflowed with water. The bubbles were another matter. They had multiplied like rabbits and spilled over onto the counter and floor.
Cursing, she plunged her hand into the scalding water to find the plug and felt Preston at her back, uncomfortably close.
His breath rustled the hair by her ear. “Were you fucking them both?”
She jerked backwards in shock, but found his body behind hers, pinning her against the sink.
“Because Camden’s been fucking both you and Lark.”
But at least we both figured out the kind of man he was before we made any stupid mistakes, right?
Eva’s heart pumped double time, spilling adrenaline into her blood. Lark had been in Vaughn’s hospital room. Only one reason she’d have gone to see him. They had some kind of relationship—and Preston thought Vaughn was Cam.
Oh, no.
The contract on Cam’s head. Soup’s death. All of it started after Preston saw her and Cam together at the bar in Key West.
A rising sense of dread trickled down her spine. “Preston, tell me you didn’t—” But she didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. An engine rumbled to a stop in front of the house and a car door banged shut. Footsteps crunched on the snow of the walkway, then the porch’s screen door creaked. She’d left the interior door open, and the footsteps paused.
Please not Shelby. Or—
Cam appeared in the archway between the dining room and kitchen, his gun drawn, his eyes flat as he took in the scene in front of him: Preston pinning her against the sink with his body, her shirt soaked down the front, the white fabric translucent.
For one horrifying moment, Eva feared he’d get the wrong idea, but Preston nixed that by grabbing a knife out of the butcher block. He pressed the blade to her neck and swung her around, using her as a living shield, and her whole body went cold. Her brain shut down. She couldn’t form a coherent thought, leaving her confused and shaking.
“Whoa, okay. We don’t need to hurt anyone.” Cam raised his hands in front of him, let his gun dangle from his index finger as he bent down and set it on the floor. Straightening, he stripped off his jacket, then his shirt. “I’m unarmed, see? No back-up weapons.”