Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(73)

Chuck gripped Cam’s shoulder. "Boston’s the one that found you," he explained. "He called the ambulance and held you while you threw up blood. The boy probably saved your life, keeping you from suffocating on your own vomit. Took ten years off his life. He was about to break down into a panic attack by the time we arrived."

Cameron glanced at his best friend. Boston appeared to be seeking comfort about as much as he was trying to give it.

"And that pretty little wife of yours." Chuck shook his head. "She’s convinced this is all her fault, and no one’s going to convince her otherwise. Keeps saying stuff like she should’ve done more, should’ve tried harder. You wouldn’t have drunk tonight if she hadn’t left. Poor thing is taking on the weight of the world. Kind of like you did when Sienna died."

Cameron’s head swiveled around. He ignored the spiking pain from the sudden movement and gaped at his dad.

"Oh, I remember everything you said back then," his father murmured. "Most of it was, ‘I should’ve done more. I should’ve tried harder. If only I’d…’" Chuck’s words drifted off as he watched a tear trail down Cameron’s cheek.

"So, I’ve turned into Sienna," Cam choked out. "Is that what you’re saying? I’m the manic depressive now."

"You couldn’t save her, Cameron," Allison said, squeezing his fingers. "Nothing Sienna did to herself was your fault. Only she could’ve saved herself."

"And none of us can save you," Chuck added. "No matter how much we want to. No matter how much it kills us to watch you go through this."

Cameron squeezed his eyes closed, but tears leaked through anyway. When he looked up, he met his mother’s worried features. "I’ve made a mess

of things, haven’t I?"

Allison ran her thumb over his knuckles. "It’s nothing that can’t be fixed," she assured, sounding suddenly like the woman he remembered from when he was a child and had made mistakes.

He swallowed. This was all wrong. They were treating him like, well, like he’d treated Sienna in her final days.

No.

He wasn’t turning into a Sienna. He couldn’t. He’d never do to his family what she’d done to him. He’d never put them through hell by making them worry.

But that’s exactly what he’d done. For ten years.

"God, I’m so sorry."

Allison leaned down to hug him and in doing so, finally drew Boston and Olivia’s attention. Gasping, they let go of each other and stumbled forward. Boston came all the way to his side, but Olivia hung back at the last moment, her face wrinkling into a scared, uncertain mask.

"Still got some life left in you, huh?" Boston asked in a steady enough voice, though his pale face and red-ringed eyes told the true story.

"Yeah, so you can quit trying to comfort the weeping widow," Cameron groused and managed a half-hearted glare. "I’m not dead yet."

Boston grinned, but the relief in his eyes nearly made Cam tear up again. What in the world had he done to his best friend?

As he opened his mouth to make some snide, probably sarcastically dry comment, Boston’s face suddenly filled with color. He sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly. "Jesus," he said, pressed a fisted hand to the center of his chest, and stared at Cameron as if he couldn’t believe his friend had actually survived. "You scared the shit out of me tonight, man."

Cameron’s chest constricted, making him cringe. Regret filled him to the brink. He licked his dry lips and said, "I hear I owe you thanks. You saved my life."

He lifted his hands; a look of extreme liberation washed over Boston as he stepped forward and gripped Cam’s fingers.

"Yeah, well, you can pay me back by buying me a new pair of shoes. You puked all over my favorites."

"You mean that ratty old brown pair you’ve had for ten years?" Cameron grinned. "Thank God. It was beyond time to retire them."

Boston shook his head, the skin around his eyes wrinkling with humor.

Cameron shifted his gaze past Boston and settled on Olivia. She must not have gone far whenever she’d left him. The family had still been able to contact her and let her know he was in the hospital.

Her tousled hair rose in a scattered mountainous mess. Still, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

She loved him. Whether he liked it or not, Olivia loved him. It was

an unconditional devotion, like what his parents felt for each other. Whether he pushed her away or not, she’d still love him. The insight was humbling and overwhelming, but he liked it.

And that was his decision-maker right there. Never truly having loved a woman before, never having felt the pressing need to keep her safe, Cameron knew he’d do anything for Olivia. He’d even fix himself to protect her.

"Livy," he whispered.

She jerked guiltily; her face drained of color. As his parents and Boston stepped aside and slowly started backing toward the separating curtain to give him privacy, Olivia cautiously shuffled forward as if she thought he was going to beat her now.

An unexpected surge of pleasure moved through him. She cared. She loved him so much, he altered the whole view he’d been taking on the entire situation. He no longer wanted to distance himself from her. He just wanted to be with her forever. And if he had to make himself right to do that, then by God, he would.