Cam propped a hip on the edge of the desk, just like the old days when they had discussed cases late into the night. “The going theory is Preston killed her when she rejected him for Vaughn, but there’s no sign of blood in her apartment. No body. He won’t say what he did with her.”
“I saw her at the hospital yesterday afternoon.” And suddenly, that encounter made a whole lot more sense. She’d gone to see Vaughn, which explained why she was so confused when Eva spoke about him as if he was Cam. “Does Vaughn know?”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “He didn’t take it well. He cared about her, more than I’ve seen him care about any of the women he’s dated.”
“I had no idea they were even together until Preston told me. Except, he thought Vaughn was you.”
“Nobody knew. They kept it secret, but it started in Key West.”
She nodded, so weighted down by exhaustion even that small action was a chore. “And Preston lost his mind when she dumped him for another Wilde.”
Cam hesitated. He tried to cover by taking a drink of his own coffee, but she knew him, inside and out. She glared at him. “What?”
Sighing, he set his mug aside. “Preston didn’t lose his mind in Key West. That’s just when he fixated on killing me and started using his political affiliations to track down people I’d arrested who held grudges. Except he made a big mistake by approaching Soup. Yeah, I arrested Soup once, and we had a rocky start to our acquaintance, but he liked me, considered me a friend. Friendship is something beyond Preston’s understanding.”
Eva nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. But if he was aiming to comfort her, he failed. She didn’t feel any freaking better about the whole thing. “You’re stalling. How do you know Preston didn’t snap in Key West?”
“He’s doing a lot of talking in there.” With a tilt of his head, Cam indicated the interrogation room, where Miguel and another detective were interviewing Preston. “It all still has to be substantiated, but he’s confessed to killing at least three women, starting as far back as his first girlfriend in high school. He doesn’t take rejection well.”
She shivered harder. Oh, God, how could she have known him for five years, dated him for two, and not once suspected…
Dammit, she should have seen something. As a cop, her job was to protect the innocent, and instead, she’d literally been in bed with one of the bad guys. Sickness roiled in her stomach, and she feared she might throw up the little bit of coffee she’d drank. She clamped her jaw shut and fought to rein in all of her bodily reactions. She had to maintain control. She was too close to an emotional cliff, and if she let go of the reins on her emotions, she’d tremble over the edge.
Cam growled and stood, pulling her to her feet and tucking her against his chest. “Goddamn you, Eva. You don’t have to be strong right now. Nobody fucking expects that of you except yourself. Let go. Break down. Get it out of your system.”
She balled her fists in his shirt, but didn’t lift her face from the crook of his neck. “If I start, I won’t stop.”
“Then don’t.” His hand caressed the back of her head, tangled in the strands of her hair, and pulled gently until she had to meet his gaze. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”
As she stared up into the serious blue of his eyes, she saw the truth of his words. From that first day when he leaned across this very aisle and offered her a carrot stick, he’d had her back, saved her ass, and had just been there for her.
She could let go because Cam would always be there to catch her and set her back on her feet, no matter how far she fell.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned into his strength and let the tears come.
…
Eva’s tears destroyed him, but he held her through it, wishing he could absorb her pain, until she finally cried herself into exhaustion. Then he bundled her into the Hummer and drove her home—his home, where she belonged. She moved like a zombie, silent, unblinking, and unconcerned of her surroundings as he led her up the steps to his condo. Fearing she might collapse, he scooped her into his arms the moment the door shut out the cold behind them. The fact she allowed it without protest worried the hell outta him, and he double-timed it to his bedroom.
He pulled back the sheets and gently laid her on the mattress, unsurprised to see her already out cold. Couldn’t blame her. The night had packed a huge wallop—both physical and emotional. At very least, she needed a solid night’s sleep.
He stripped out of his clothes and slid into bed beside her, tucked her in against his chest. She sighed and nuzzled closer in her sleep. His muscles loosened, his heart beat easier, his lungs expanded for what felt like the first time since walking into her house and seeing that knife held to her throat.
She was safe. In his arms and safe. And fuck their friends-with-benefits arrangement with all its rules, he was never letting her go again.