10 Years Later Part 16

Dalton.

Four.

Reaching for my cell phone on my nightstand, I s.n.a.t.c.hed it up as if my very life depended on it. Swiping the screen turned it on, but revealed nothing. No missed calls. No new text messages. No news from Dalton.

My heart sank as all the fears and questions from yesterday came rus.h.i.+ng back with another blink. I focused on calming my breathing, shaking my head back and forth as if I could shake all the negative emotions out, when I noticed Kristy watching me.

"Morning," she said with a small smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I should have," I said while trying to fight back everything screaming to burst out of me.

"Anything from Dalton?" She glanced at the phone that was still clutched tightly in my hand.

I shook my head. "Nothing. What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I called around last night and I looked online, but I couldn't find anything," she said. "There has to be an explanation, Cammie."

"Yeah. You just don't want to say it out loud."

"He's not f.u.c.king dead," she said tersely. "So stop jumping to the worst-case scenario."

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"Because, d.a.m.n it. I refuse to believe that this kind of thing could happen to you again. I won't accept it. I won't." Kristy's eyes glistened with tears, telling me she was fighting her own fears and doubts. "So there's some kind of explanation about where he is and where he's been. Okay?" She swiped at her eyes, her expression pleading with me to be strong.

"I really wish I could believe that." I sank back into the covers and called Dalton's phone. Straight to voice mail again.

"Well, start believing," she insisted.

"I want to. I really do. I hate sitting here doing nothing," I said with a groan. "Not knowing is what's truly driving me insane."

She rolled her eyes at me and huffed. "I'm aware of exactly what's driving you insane."

"Then tell me you've thought of something that we could do? I can't spend another day not knowing where he is. This is ridiculous," I whined.

"Call his cell again," she demanded.

"Already did. Straight to voice mail."

"Where the f.u.c.k is he?" she shouted at the ceiling in frustration, and I started to laugh. Kristy narrowed her glare at me. "What the h.e.l.l are you laughing at?"

"It's just that I'm the one who should be angry, not you," I said, still smiling.

"Do you want to get out of here? Go see a movie or something?" She moved to sit up in bed. "Something to distract us from all of this?"

Her suggestion made my stomach turn. The idea of not being home didn't interest me. Even though I knew that no one would come knocking on my door to tell me what had happened to Dalton, I didn't want to rule out the possibility completely. If someone came while I was gone, I'd never forgive myself.

I let out a sigh. "Movies sound great. But let's do a rental, so we don't have to actually leave the house."

Kristy let out an annoyed groan. "Ugh. Fine. Just another Sat.u.r.day with Cammie. Can we at least move from the bedroom into the living room? I can't stay in bed all day." She gave me a wry look. "At least, not with you."

"I don't want to stay in bed with you either." I stuck out my tongue before tossing back the covers and hopping out.

"Good. We're out of wine, so I'll go to the store. And I'll grab some pizza. You might not be able to stomach eating, but I'm starving." She stretched her arms above her head before lowering to the floor for some yoga poses.

"I'll take a shower and pick the movies," I offered.

"Perfect."

I heard the front door shut as I turned on the water for my shower. For the first time since Dalton had disappeared, I was alone. Reaching for my cell, I dialed his number again. Straight to voice mail. Dialing it again and hoping for a different response, I almost felt hopeful when it took a second longer for his voice mail to kick on than it had before.

Next I opened the text message screen, and was shocked by the number of messages I had sent him. I winced when I scrolled through them, because with no response from him, the text window looked embarra.s.singly like a stalker's. I knew I was acting like a crazy person, but all logic and restraint had flown the coop the second he didn't show up for our date. Resisting the urge to send Dalton another text, I closed the text window.

After my shower, I dressed comfortably in a pair of yoga pants and a loose-fitting s.h.i.+rt. I grabbed a few extra blankets from my linen closet and headed toward the couch, where I tossed them for me and Kristy to use during the movies.

My mind wouldn't stop racing, running the gamut of emotions from fear to anger and back again. I was thankful for the distraction when Kristy finally came back, her arms filled with groceries and a giant pizza box.

"Are we feeding the whole complex?" I teased.

"I wasn't sure how long I'd be staying. So I got lots of stuff just in case, you ungrateful little-" She stopped herself. "Did you pick a movie?"

"I picked four."

"Awesome." She set the pizza on the counter and pulled three bottles of wine from one of the bags. I grabbed plates and winegla.s.ses while Kristy continued to unpack and stock my fridge and cupboards with Lord only knew what.

She glanced at me. "I got garlic knots too. Because, well, I think this weekend calls for carbs and b.u.t.ter."

I knew better than to argue with Kristy, and to be honest, I didn't want to. Eventually I needed to eat, even if I didn't feel hungry.

a a a We spent the day lost in movies that made us feel good about love. I tried to believe in the stories the way they intended for the audience to believe, but it was hard. Certain scenes triggered my worry, bringing me right back into the present, and I had to excuse myself more than once to escape to the bathroom in some attempt to pull myself together.

Happily-ever-after seemed to be something that eluded me, and I wondered if it always would. I knew I was feeling overly cynical, my guts knotted with apprehension and concern for Dalton. I tried to pretend that I wasn't coming unraveled with each hour that pa.s.sed with no word from him, but that was all I was doing-pretending. Kristy and I both knew it, but we avoided talking about it, knowing that addressing it wouldn't change the situation.

It was so frustrating, knowing that no matter what I said or did, I couldn't change things. I was helpless, stuck in the dark, waiting for answers. Answers that might never come. Answers that I might not want to hear. Having absolutely no control was a horribly discouraging feeling.

After the fourth movie ended, I yawned and stretched my hands above my head.

"Do you think you can sleep?" Kristy asked, and I nodded as I wiped at my tired eyes. "Good. You go and I'll clean up."

I looked around at our mess from the day. Dirty dishes, empty wine bottles, and balled-up napkins littered the coffee table. "Are you sure?" I asked, feeling guilty.

"It's no big deal. Go. I got this." She waved me off as I trudged down the hall to my bedroom.

A knock on my door a little while later startled me awake. I glanced at the red numbers on my clock that told me it was 12:11 a.m., and wondered who could be at my door this late. Flashbacks of two police officers waiting for me to pull open the door popped into my head as I slipped out of bed quietly. Kristy lay curled next to me, her body lost in a sea of bedcovers.

Another swift knock rattled the door, ratcheting up my nerves. Peeking through the peephole, I recognized Dalton's silhouette, and I threw the door open to reveal one seriously stressed-out man. Thanking G.o.d he was safe, I felt my heart simultaneously leap into my throat and drop to the floor.

"You're alive," I said softly, my emotions a mixture of shock, happiness, and confusion as I took in his face, covered with scruff from days of not shaving.

"I'm so sorry, Cammie-" he started to say, but I cut him off.

"I'm so glad you're not dead!" I launched myself into his arms and buried my face in his chest as the stress of the past thirty hours ravaged me, and tears fell.

Not How It's Going to End.

Dalton.

Cammie's body shook in my arms, her back hitching with each sob. Her tears soaked through my plain white T-s.h.i.+rt, and I couldn't have cared less. "I thought something terrible happened to you," she tried to say between sobs, and the words stabbed me straight in the heart.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I put you through that." Holding her close, I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, not wanting to let her go.

"I'm so happy to see that you're okay. Really, I am. But I'm not." She pulled away from me as tears spilled down her beautiful cheeks, and I had never felt so small before now. "I'm not okay. I haven't been since Friday, Dalton. Where have you been?"

Knowing that I was the cause of Cammie's tears gutted me. I never wanted to hurt her, and seeing her like this was unsettling, to say the least. "Can we please talk?" I practically begged as she moved to walk down her hallway and into the living room. I peeked in her bedroom as we pa.s.sed, noticing a body next to the s.p.a.ce where Cammie's covers had been pulled back.

"Is Kristy here?"

"Of course she's here."

Cammie was shaky as she sat on the couch, flipped on a light, and pulled her knees up to her chest, watching my every move. She grabbed a loose blanket and tucked it around her body as I moved to sit next to her, giving her some personal s.p.a.ce, but not too much.

I reached out to her, moving some of the dampened hair that was stuck to her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, grateful that she let me touch her at all. "I'm so sorry for everything. I can't tell you that enough." She swallowed, her facial expression hard to read, so I dove right into my explanation, realizing that I'd royally screwed things up between us. "I've been in New York since Friday. I didn't have my phone with me, and I didn't have your number memorized."

Her head tilted as she processed my words. "What? New York?"

I could see so many emotions racing through her eyes. I couldn't even imagine what I'd put her through these past couple of days, but I hated myself for every minute I was away and couldn't contact her.

"Friday morning I got a call from my informant that our perp was at the docks. My partner and I went there, but it was wrong. It all felt wrong. It was a setup, but we realized it too late." A slight gasp escaped her perfect lips, but I continued. "It wasn't a setup for us; it was a setup for my informant. He gave us information and when we showed up, it only confirmed that he was a rat. My partner and I raced to meet the head of the case, where our entire West Coast squad got loaded onto a plane and flown to New York without any notice. Two of our informants, mine included, were missing. They're still missing, actually. The whole case was in jeopardy."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I didn't have my phone because Tucker drove that morning. He's my partner." I paused, my head shaking as I bridled my annoyance. "He never drives. Ever. My personal cell was in my car, and I didn't make it back there until tonight. I just landed and the battery was dead. I drove straight here."

I waited for the relief to flood her eyes, but it never came. "You believe me, don't you?" I asked, wondering if she thought I might be lying to her, something I'd never do.

Her sad eyes looked through me as she nodded halfheartedly. "I believe you."

"Then what is it? I've missed you so much. I knew you had to be freaking out, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't call you. I didn't know Kristy's number, or your mom's. I didn't have any way to get a hold of you, and by the time we landed in New York, I was losing my f.u.c.king mind over it." As I admitted all of this to her, I clenched and released my fists over and over again.

Cammie gave me a dejected look. "Same here. Except I pretty much thought you were dead and that no one would ever tell me because no one knew about me." More tears spilled down her cheeks, each one gutting me more than the last. "There was a part of me that honestly thought I'd never see you again."

Nothing made me feel smaller than the pain I caused this woman. I felt like less of a man for it, and wished more than anything that I could go back and change it. But I couldn't.

"Please don't cry. You're breaking my heart." I punched at my chest. "I came back as soon as I could. My whole squad's still in the city. I flew home tonight because I couldn't wait another day to see you, and I knew you'd be worried. I just didn't realize how much. I'm such an idiot. I'm so f.u.c.king sorry."

She sucked in a long breath and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I had a panic attack on Friday when you didn't show up to the restaurant."

My jaw dropped slightly as she recounted what had happened that evening, her voice growing more despondent with each minute that pa.s.sed. It tore me apart to hear what she'd gone through, even more so knowing it was all because of me.

"I've never had a panic attack before in my life," she said. "I thought I was dying. I made Kristy take me to the hospital because I was convinced I was having a heart attack."

I pressed my palms to my eyes and rubbed. Tired of telling her how sorry I was, I didn't know what the h.e.l.l else to say to fix this. And it needed to be fixed because she wasn't okay; that much I knew.

Cammie looked up at me, her eyes huge and glistening with tears. "I can't do this. I can't go through this with you, Dalton."

She can't be saying what I think she's saying. This is not happening.

"What do you mean exactly?" Everything seemed to stand still as I held my breath, waiting for what she would say next.

"I saw what losing my dad did to my mom and I can't be in that position. I can't willingly put myself through this with you." She pressed her lips together as she swiped away her tears, sitting up a little straighter as she built up a wall against me, pus.h.i.+ng me out.

"But you understand where I've been and why I couldn't call, right?" I reached out, wanting to touch her, to pull her in my arms and kiss some sense into her, but pulled my hand back.

She nodded, but didn't meet my eyes. "I do. I'm not mad at you, my brain understands the logic of it all, but you weren't here. You didn't see what I went through emotionally. You don't know how I felt."

Cammie tried to explain, but I could see I was losing her. Her body language changed completely as she tried to close herself off from me. I had to keep fighting.

"I know this is hard for you. I can only imagine what the idea of me getting hurt does to you. But, Cammie, I just got you back. Please don't ask me to walk away from you again. I don't think I can do it."

She frowned at me, her brows drawing together as if I'd said the stupidest thing ever. "Dalton, I had a freaking panic attack! And that happened because I was worried about you and thought something had happened to you. You not showing up triggered something in me that made me come undone. I can't live my life like that. I can't be worried all the time and have to take a bunch of pills to deal with it."

Seeing the pain in Cammie's eyes reminded me so much of how she'd looked after her dad's death. The vacant dullness had returned, only this time it was because of me. Her expression looked hollowed out, and it sent me back to those dark days when Cammie had first stopped smiling. And it absolutely gutted me to know that I was the cause of her anguish.

How could I convince her that I'd never leave her; that I'd be okay? In this job, my safety could never be guaranteed, but I refused to lie to her about it. On the other hand, I couldn't let her go. Not again. Not after reconnecting the way we had. There was a special bond between Cammie and me, something that never quite died with time. It didn't fade away, lessen, or cease to exist, instead it simmered, waiting for us to come within feet of each other so it could reignite and set us both aflame.

I was on fire and I refused to burn alone.

She could attempt to convince herself that she didn't need me, or this, but I knew in my heart it was a lie. There was no way I could pretend that this connection between us didn't exist or that I could live without it-or without her. Sure, I could exist without Cammie Carmichael, but that's all I would be doing . . . existing. I wouldn't truly be living without her by my side.

Reaching out, I lifted her chin so she would meet my eyes. "I don't want to lie to you and tell you that my job isn't dangerous at times, because it is. But it's not always like that. What can I say to rea.s.sure you? Tell me what to say and I'll say it."

Looking up at me, her eyes wide with fear told me everything I needed to know. Then her words confirmed my suspicions of what prompted her need to pull away from me.

"All of this terrifies me," she said, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with unshed tears. "Absolutely terrifies me. I see the cycle repeating, and I don't want to be incapable of taking care of myself if something happens to you. You know, the way my mother was. "

"You're not your mom," I said firmly, trying to rea.s.sure her and sway her back over to my side. But the truth was that I had no idea how much Cammie was-or wasn't-like her mom, and she knew it.

Cammie shook her head wildly. "You weren't here. You didn't see me. Ask Kristy when she's awake. She'll tell you how not okay I was, and how much I hated myself for feeling that way."

"I want to fix this. How can I fix this for us?" I pleaded with her, wanting so badly to take her in my arms. If I thought she'd let me kiss her, I'd do it until all her pain was gone. Not touching her after being away from her was killing me. My hands itched to be touching her body.

"You can't," she admitted, her jaw clenching tightly.

With that, I knew that her mind was made up. Cold chills raced down my spine as I realized there would be no changing her position on this. At least, not tonight. I'd be d.a.m.ned if I let her walk away like this.