Page 95

Cameron

W hen we pulled up outside my apartment, the first thing I noticed was the guy sitting on a bench outside, reading a book.

This wasn’t exactly the sort of neighborhood where a person spent a leisurely afternoon reading a book outside.

After sniffing the air, I realized I recognized his scent.

A faint trace of JC’s smell lingered on him as well. The guy waved a hand in greeting.

“Pack member,” Nate said, waving back. “Looks like JC kept his word about watching over you and your family.”

The man, obviously a bodyguard of some sort, went back to his book, and I wondered if there were any more of these people around, watching my mom and brother. That thought took a backseat to my worry about Nate. He’d been withdrawn and quiet the entire trip back.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked, putting a hand on his thigh.

I expected him to sigh heavily and nod. He surprised me by giving a more honest answer.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I need some time to think. To look into it for myself.” He shook his head, looking so damn helpless my heart broke. “Figure out what all this means.”

“That makes total sense. I’d expect nothing less. Nate, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it. Like you said, a lot happened last night. It looks like it was meant to be, anyway. The fact that we drove by that old shop, on that same road, on the exact day, says a lot.” He stared into my eyes, and I was relieved to see he didn’t blame me for anything.

Pointing toward my apartment, he said, “Go on in. I know that guy’s here watching, but I’ll stay here until I’m sure you’re inside and safe.”

“Okay.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah. Soon.”

I got out, casting one last glance back at him before hurrying into my building.

The man on the bench caught my eye and nodded slightly, letting me know he knew me, then went back to pretending to read his book.

I ran up the stairs, part of me crying out in sadness that I was leaving Nate behind.

My inner wolf gave a whine of longing, but I did my best to ignore it.

I nearly skidded to a halt when I found a man leaning against the wall beside my apartment door, flipping through a copy of The Chronicle , looking bored.

“Good afternoon, Miss Torres,” he said without looking up. “JC sent us. You’re clear.”

Two guards? JC wasn’t taking any chances.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I skirted around him to unlock the door.

Before I’d even managed to close the door, shouts of surprise and happiness rang out from the kitchen.

“Cam!” Gael ran over to me and threw his arms around my waist.

“ Mija. My girl. Oh, praise the Lord,” Mom said as she wrapped her arms around me and my little brother. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m great.”

Something about my tone must have sounded off. Mom quirked an eyebrow in question, but said nothing. Instead, she yanked the backpack off my shoulders and tossed it on the couch.

“Come. Help your mother. I’m making molé for dinner.”

“From scratch?” I asked wearily. “That takes hours.”

Nodding slowly, she spoke as if she was explaining something to a small child. “Yes. That’s why we’re working on it this early. I had a craving,” she added with a shrug. “And I have the day off, so what better time?”

Gael still clung to me, and I struggled free of his grip. When he looked up at me, he wasn’t crying, but his eyes were watery.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, bending over to meet his eyes.

He swiped his arm across his face. “Sorry. I missed you. I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” I hugged him again. “It’s okay. Let’s help Mom, huh?”

“Sure,” he said.

We spent the next several hours helping her toast dried chiles, grind pepitas, peanuts, Mexican chocolate, and half a dozen other ingredients. Afterward, Gael and I cut up the whole chicken and put it in the slow cooker with chicken broth.

“I’d rather do this the old-fashioned way with the Dutch oven,” Mom said with a sigh, then patted the slow cooker, “But sometimes, things can be easier.”

After putting the chicken on to cook and the sauce on to simmer, Gael made his exit. “I’m gonna go play video games,” he said, giving me one last hug before bounding down the hall to his room.

“Put your laundry in the hamper first,” Mom called after him.

“Yup,” he called an instant before his door closed.

Once we were alone, the smile vanished from Mom’s face as she turned to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied, shaking my head.

“ Mija , you think I’m not a mother? That I can’t see that something is going on inside my daughter’s head? Hmm?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “Out with it.”

“Mom, seriously. Nothing’s wrong.” The last thing I wanted was to drag Mom into my relationship issues.

“You leave me no choice,” she said with a huff and opened the fridge. “I must use the nuclear option.”

She pulled a sheet pan out and set it on the counter.

I stared at it with unmitigated lust. “Is that your tres leches cake?”

“It is. I made it last night.” She grabbed a knife and two plates. “You can have a piece if”—she pointed the knife at me—“you spit it out.”

“Ohhh,” I hissed. “That’s a dirty fucking game, Mom.”

“Language, Cameron,” Mom said in a monotone. “Now, do you want a piece or not?”

Shit .

“Okay, fine ,” I groaned.

Mom grinned in a self-satisfied way and slid two large pieces onto the plates, then put the cake back into the fridge.

“Don’t tell Gael. I told him he couldn’t have any until after dinner. Is it Nate?” she asked gently. “Did something happen while you were gone?”

I took a bite, moaning in delight as the cool, moist cake delighted my tastebuds. But even the glorious dessert couldn’t bring a real smile to my face.

“It’s not Nate,” I admitted. “It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

Poking at the dessert with my fork, I lifted a shoulder in a sullen shrug. “I think I’m messed up, Mom. I either choose terrible men, or I sabotage the good ones.”

I thought back on the way Nate had reacted to my revelation about his past. Seeing that article had spurred me to do something, but had that been the right time?

I could have told him about it at any other time.

The night before, that morning during breakfast. So many other times.

He’d already been emotional from seeing the bait shop, and then I’d dumped a thousand-pound bomb on him.

Part of me worried that I may have done irreparable harm to Nate, and I couldn’t get that thought out of my head.

“And which one is Nate?” Mom asked, finally taking a bite.

“He’s a good one,” I admitted, and tears tried to sear their way out from the backs of my eyes.

“This is not your problem, mija . It’s mine.”

“What?” I looked up, tears forgotten in my shock at her words.

She set her fork down, interlaced her fingers, and sighed heavily. “I failed you. As a role model. I’ve known it for years, and I can’t seem to stop doing it.”

Now I was the one who wanted to do the comforting. I reached forward, putting my hand on hers. “You never failed. You work harder than anyone I know, Mom.”

“Oh, it’s not the work,” she said with a bitter laugh.

“It’s the relationships. All the men I’ve brought into your life, and then they vanished.

I never showed you what a healthy relationship was.

How to behave with a man who really loved you.

All I’ve done since your father disappeared is chase that high, that emotional connection I had with him.

It probably made things difficult for you.

It’s why I disliked Rick so much,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“I could see you were doing something similar, but I was too ashamed to say anything.”

My stomach lurched at her words. That was exactly what I’d always thought she was doing, but she’d never verbalized it.

Now, my heart ached for her. I knew she’d loved my dad, but I’d never realized how deep that love went.

Part of me had simply assumed he’d been another flash-in-the-pan romance that resulted in a pregnancy, similar to Gael’s father.

My mother’s eyes told the true story, though.

One of my fears, which had been unrealized until this very moment, was that I’d open my heart to someone who would hurt me.

All my high school and college boyfriends, men I’d met online, casual dates here and there…

I’d fallen into those relationships with a half-assed sort of reluctance that I’d never really noticed.

Now, I saw the truth. I’d been terrified.

I’d spent years thinking I was afraid of ruining my life by choosing the wrong person the way Mom had.

In reality, I’d been scared to open my heart to anyone for fear of being hurt.

It was part of why I felt strange around Nate. My instincts were telling me to fully let go, but my subconscious mind was looking for a way out. A way to keep from having my heart metaphorically ripped from my chest.

“How did you do it?” My voice trembled. “Open yourself up?”

She mulled my question over as she took a bite of cake, then said, “I trust people. Maybe I trust too much, but I always believe the best in people. Call it a weakness or a strength, but there it is. With some people, like Rick,” she said, her lip curling in disgust, “it’s easy to see that they care only about themselves.

Most people aren’t that way. The men I’ve loved and lost mostly weren’t bad people.

They simply weren’t meant for me. That’s a hard lesson to learn, but it’s not hard enough for me to never try.

Everyone deserves love, Cameron.” She touched my hand. “Even you. Especially you.”

Shame filled me. All this time, I’d mentally chastised my mother for letting her heart lead her astray.

I’d considered her weak. Now, I saw that she wasn’t.

She was strong. It was easy to shut others out, to build up walls and defenses that no one could break down the way I had.

It was incredibly difficult to allow people in, knowing they might hurt you in the end.

That sounded terrifying, but also exhilarating.

“Is this boy worth it?” Mom said, obviously meaning Nate.

I thought about it. My inner wolf gave her opinion loud and clear. Finally, I nodded slowly, a smile creeping onto my lips.

“He is.”

“Then don’t worry about what you’ve done wrong.” She brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “Worrying about the past is a fool’s game. Worry about the now .”

Wiping my eyes, I chuckled. “When did you get so smart?”

Mom took another forkful of cake and grinned. “I’ve always been this smart. It just took you this long to realize it. It’s okay, mija . I always knew you were the slowest of my two children.”

I gasped and tossed a paper napkin at her. “How dare you?”

We devolved into a fit of giggles as we finished our cake.

While we waited for dinner to finish cooking, we discussed more banal subjects.

My mind sporadically drifted to Nate. I couldn’t change the past. I knew that.

Hell, I’d basically told Nate the exact same thing a few days before.

Now, I actually understood what it meant, and I promised myself I’d do exactly what Mom said.

Live in the present, and worry about the now.

I wouldn’t give up on Nate, and I wouldn’t give up on myself.