Blood to Dust(93)

And Nate is my family.

I’m trying to sound firm, but not desperate.

“I don’t want your life, Prescott. I want what I set out for. Even after everything you’ve done to me. . .to my family. All I want is you. That cold thing that beats inside your chest,” he hisses, grabbing onto my left boob and pinching hard. I feel urine trickling between my thighs, which prompts my eyes to leak too. “That’s the thing I ache for.”

“Then have me. Let me take him to the hospital, release Preston, and I’ll come back. I promise.”

Nate has his fake passport and some money left. He could make it, and help Preston. Complete my quest in my absence. I trust him. That’s if he’s still alive. I might fall behind and become a slave again. But it’s a price I’m willing to pay after everything he’s done for me. It’s a price I want to pay, despite the consequences.

Camden places his lips on top of my head again, stroking it like I’m a fragile doll. It’s chilling. His way of treating me like nothing more than an object.

“You miss your brother.”

Careful not to react, I stare blankly at the wall. Camden wants to squeeze the shit out of my despair and agony. Breaking apart will only make him stall.

“How old is he now?” Camden muses, his fingers tickling the sensitive spot behind my ear. He used to do that when we fell asleep together. Now, he does it to taunt me.

“Shouldn’t you know? Your father said he’s with you,” I sniff my runny nose, unable to keep this inside me anymore.

There’s a dramatic pause of words and movements, before he resumes running his fingers through my hair. His tone is calm and blasé.

“Prescott, love, what are you on about? Preston is dead.” I feel a shot of pain straight to my heart. He tugs my hair a little, enough to make my skull burn, still brushing my blonde waves. “He practically begged us to kill him. After you had my father and Sebastian locked up for years”—he smiles, reminiscing about the time like it was a sweet memory—“I got mad, and naturally, wanted to get even. I know you don’t care for your dad very much, and that your mom is in a crazy asylum. That left me with. . .” He extends my neck, forcing me to stare at his broad smile. “Baby Brother Dearest.”

I want to cry, to scream, but am too paralyzed to do any of those things. Preston is no longer alive. My brother. My only real family. Nate, by the lack of sound or labored breaths, is dead too.

Everything I care for—gone.

“In hindsight, I could’ve handled it better. He came to me trying to find you. Bad timing.”

Shit, Preston, shit. I told him not to look for me after he gave me the money. He wanted to save me and got killed for it.

“When he realized what I’d done to you, it was too much. I gave him two options—end up as my slave or say goodbye. He didn’t even blink.” Camden rests his forehead on mine and our eyes level. “Preston pressed his forehead to the barrel like a trooper. He had balls, I’ll give him that.”

I’m peeing myself. Doing exactly the thing I wanted to bring Camden to do. Shattered into mosaic pieces of pain and agony.

“You pulled the trigger?” My teeth chatter.

“I did,” Camden confirms. “I’m sorry, Diabla. I was quite mad at you back then. Well, we both were a little over the top, weren’t we?” He chuckles.

My fists flex and my vision clouds. “Please. No more death. Let me take Nate to the hospital. You want me? You can have me. Just let him go.”

Camden shakes his head, sighing heavily. I look at the man I thought I used to love and hate myself for letting him into my life. His face drips malice, his usual cocky glint replaced with a mad glow. It’s the same insanity I saw in his father’s eyes before I finished him. An electrifying intensity that will shut off like a power outage the minute he’s dead. He blankets me in the scent of stale cigarettes and Royal Mayfair fragrance. His lips press into my throat.

“You’ll never be mine. I saw the way you looked at him. If I keep you, you will kill me. It would only be a matter of time. You’re a hurricane, Diabla. I can’t risk you blowing up my life.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I won’t, I won’t. I promise. I’m done. Let me take him and I’ll leave. You have my word.”

He seems to be considering this. His hand is still buried in my hair as he strokes it lightly. Lovingly. Sickly. Is Camden about to do the right thing for once? He finally believes me when I say his father raped me all the time I was trapped in that apartment.

“What happened to us, Prescott? We could’ve been good together. Now I have to kill you, so you won’t kill me.”

“No you don’t. I’ll stay away.”

“You’ll be desperate and poor,” he snaps. His palm twitches as he fights the urge to slap me. “And you’ll get back to doing what you do best—hustling. If I let you go, I’ll need to make sure you’re being taken care of financially.”

The conversation confuses me. My head is about to explode. Does Camden want to help me now? After killing my brother? After killing my lover?

“My father touched you.” I hear his voice above my head. “Repeatedly.”

I nod, eyes on the ground. “Seb would watch. It was the only thing that made him smile.”