**Cameron**
I told myself I wouldn’t lie to Holden. I promised myself that I’d let him in, let him help, let him make decisions, and let him support me; that’s all that he wants—to support me. So why the hell am I lying to him?
He’s trying to get back on track with school, with his classes and his life, and I’m over here stewing in a manic rage and not wanting to interfere with his life any more than I already have. We’re together, I get that and am very grateful for it. We’re a team full of understanding and unwavering love, but it doesn’t mean I want to ruin the good parts of his life when I have the option to protect him. He doesn’t need to know this tiny lie. I’ll tell him the truth once he’s finished classes for the day.
Holden thinks I’m on my way to class after the Christmas holidays. The Christmas holiday that will forever be embedded in my mind. The holidays where Holden got shot, Bode got shot, and Ben got to spend Christmas with the Taylor family only to have to run away to a cabin in the woods a few days later. The holidays when I found out everything in my life had been a lie. Everything.
I’m still processing, but the process is angry. I don’t want to be a miserable person, but when life is a bitch and I can’t swing as fast as these curve balls are coming at me, rage festers and turns into something dark. I need to turn it into something productive instead.
I put the truck in park outside of the Dristan Downtown Hospital. I think about telling Holden where I am and what I’m actually doing, still unsure why I’m lying to him. Just go to class and get back on track with your life, Holden. Stop worrying about me all the time. I will not be the one to derail him. My phone is staring back at me, and I swear it’s even giving me a guilty look.
Holden: I love you, Cameron.
I love his text. I love those words. I love that he loves me. I hate myself for lying to him.
Guilt courses through my veins like lava, burning me up from the inside. After everything he has done for me, everything he’s done for Ben, how can I even consider lying to him? Is it really a lie or am I planning to tell him later?
It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Holden wouldn’t even be mad at me for this; he’d understand and be supportive. But I don’t want him thinking about me and my family shit on the first day of classes. If Holden drops out or quits university because of me, I’ll never forgive myself for that. One of us needs to do something we set out to do.
Cameron: I love you, Holden. See you soon. Enjoy class.
I send it off and immediately see the text bubbles pop up. I wait, but he never sends a reply. Fuck, is he mad at me? Does he know?
A tap on my window jolts me from my thoughts. I unlock the doors for my brother.
“You ready, Cam?” he asks as he uses the crutches to hobble around and get the door open.
“I guess. Are you?” I reach over and pull his crutches into the back seat as he pulls himself into the passenger seat. He’s finally out of the hospital, but only for a bit, and now that we’re on the same page with everything, it’s time to take control back.
He closes the door and pants; he’s been stuck in a bed for days and he’s still severely injured. “Let’s just get this over with. Viktor only bought me a few hours before I gotta get back here. I’m not even supposed to be moving or I’ll open up these fucking stitches.” He motions to his bandaged thigh. He’s wearing sweatpants, but the bandage is thick enough that I can see the bulge of it through the material.
He’s freshly out of his second surgery from our father’s gunshot wound; it nicked his femoral artery, but the surgeon was able to repair it.
I hear my phone chime in my pocket, and half a second later, my truck speaks to me. “New message from Holden Taylor.”
I hit ignore. Bode raises his brows at me. I shake my head at him.
“Don’t lie to him, Cam.”
I fucking know that! I’ll tell him later, I just want him to get through one day of classes.
As I drive my brother and me to the house we grew up in, something different than nostalgia hits me. I think of my grandma and smile, but that’s about it. Now, this farmhouse, this route, these country roads offer me nothing except regret. Well, except that one time Holden and I had sex on the vacant dusty road, but otherwise, I feel hatred.
Hatred towards my parents.
Hatred towards my sister.
Hatred towards Svetlana.
Hatred towards everyone and everything who has ever duped me.
Hatred towards this place.
Hatred towards myself.
I don’t want to allow myself to be consumed by hate, but it’s going to take me a quick minute to let it fizzle out. Hatred won’t control me; I know myself better than that. I’ve grown up a lot since I was fifteen years old and on a revenge mission to Moscow. My mission is no longer revenge, it’s not hatred, it’s not even justice.
It’s protection.
I will do everything within my power to protect myself, Holden, Bode, and most of all Ben from a life like my own. No one will dupe Ben on my watch. No one will hurt him any more than they already have. No one will come after him. No one will use him as a pawn. No one will ever fucking harm him again.
That is my mission. Life’s been fucked up for too long, and Ben will not succumb to that.
I need to figure out the why and then I need to put a stop to this shit because if I’m certain about one thing, it’s that Svetlana Federova did not do this alone. There are more players in her game, and I intend to find out who they are and what they want because until they are put to rest, I won’t rest.
No one was who I thought in life, but I’m not who they thought either. I’m stronger now.

**Holden**
I know Cameron is lying to me.
I checked her schedule and she doesn’t even have class this early on a Monday morning—not this term. I already know what she’s planning on doing and I can’t hold it against her. I wish she would have fucking admitted it to me, but I understand her need to keep me focused on school. I don’t exactly have the best attendance record, as she well knows, which I’m grateful for because it’s how I met that blue-eyed beauty. If I had my way, life would be about Cameron and nothing else.
Bode texted me and told me what they were up to. At least he’s keeping me in the damn loop, but it’s probably just because he’s bored and lonely in the hospital.
Even though I’m half-ass pissed at Cameron for lying to me, the punishment sex I’ll be enacting on her later has my cock a little jumpy.
Settle down, cock. Later.
I push open the door to my dad’s house and the smell of coffee hits me like a brick wall; I didn’t realize how badly I needed a fucking coffee. Cameron hasn’t been sleeping well and as a result, I spend most nights awake worrying about her, trying to distract her or calm her down, or just straight up fucking her to distract myself. I hate that though; I hate using her as a distraction. I’ve made a lot of progress in the past few months, but I’m nowhere near perfect. I’ll work on that.
“Uncle Holden!” The little shit runs at me and launches himself into my arms. Ugh.
“Fuck, kid.” I grab him and throw him over my shoulder. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, take the volume down about eleven notches.”
He laughs; it’s a great sound.
“And I’m not your fucking uncle. Stop being a smart-ass.” I snap at him but not with any real bite. He thinks these little uncle jokes are funny so fuck it, I can handle it for now.
“Can’t help it.” He laughs and slurps and sounds like he’s drooling. Good God. “Aunt Cam says I was born a smart-ass.”
I can’t see his face since his head is hanging down my back, but I fucking know that every one of his teeth are showing as he smiles from ear to ear. Fucker.
“Morning, Holden.” My dad hands me a fresh mug of coffee as I walk into the kitchen. I put the kid down and he rushes to finish his breakfast.
“Yeah, morning,” I grumble, still awkward as fuck around my dad.
Ben has been staying here for the past week or so, ever since the night that Cameron was taken from the apartment. I can’t believe that was only a fucking week ago; so much has happened since that night. The worst of it, surprisingly, was that she lied to me this morning. I need to show her that I can handle her shit, our shit, the kid’s shit, and my school shit all at the same time. She once called me a hero, sarcastically, mind you, but a hero nonetheless; now it’s time for me to be a damn superhero.
“Morning, dear.” Katherine smiles at me as she breezes into the kitchen with a light, cheery air around her that should not exist so early in the morning. “Ben, are you ready for your new school today?” She asks him with that enthusiastic kid voice that I’ve never managed to accomplish.
“Yep!” He beams; he’s acting excited, but I know he’s nervous as shit about it. He asked me a million questions about the school, the kids, the teachers and the classes. I even took him there so we could spy on the place; I felt like a creep, but it made him feel better, so whatever. “I read everything there is to know about it and I wrote it all down in my journal,” Ben admits with pride; he gives me his attempt at a wink.
He really did. We sat in my car outside the school, I told him shit that I saw, and he scribbled it down in his almost-full journal until I told him he was allowed to look, too.
“Nerd.” I tease him.
“Uncle.” He doesn’t miss a beat.
I can’t help but smirk, but I try to hide it from him. “Alright, alright. Grab your shit, let’s go.” I try to hurry him along.
“Language,” Katherine scolds me with a smile.
She hands the kid a packed lunch, gives him a kiss on the forehead like he’s their fucking grandchild, and tells him she can’t wait to hear all about his day.
The little shit gives my dad a hug around the legs, which surprises him; I guess he’s never done that before. Progress.
I pour my coffee into a travel mug and follow a rambling Ben outside to the car. He straps himself in because I’ve completely given up on those adult-proof car seats, as I climb in the front seat.
I wonder if I’ll ever get used to having a fucking car seat in my Camaro. Fuck, I hope I strapped it in right. I need to watch my speed and pay attention to the road; his incessant ramblings can’t distract me this morning.
Settle down, fatherly instincts.
