The sardonic laugh that escaped Cameron made Keso’s jaw tense. Ian’s blood ran cold.
“You already have. He won’t stop now.” Giving up, Cameron let her head fall back to the pillow. As she closed her eyes, a tear slid down her battered face.
Every cell in Ian’s body called out for him to go to her. Instead, he stayed rooted in the doorway. Cameron and Keso had secrets. Secrets that kept her from committing to Ian. If she wouldn’t tell him herself, he wasn’t above using less righteous means to find answers.
Keso leaned over Cameron’s body. With his good hand, he wiped the tear from her face. Jealousy twisted in Ian’s gut, urging him to rush into the room and force the other man away. Wes’s words came back to him. “This is her life . . . she hasn’t made space for you.” And she wouldn’t make space if he demanded it.
“I can’t let him go, especially now. He’ll pay for this, Doc.”
Her eyes opened. Ian blanched at the defeat settling there.
“No, he won’t. We will.” Paling beneath her bruises, she lifted to lean closer to the other man. “Do you care at all about what will happen to Arabella? There’s no telling the ways this will ruin her. Even if Victor doesn’t touch her, the knowledge of this will always be with her. She shouldn’t have to bear that.”
“She won’t know,” he insisted.
“Everyone will know. And everything we’ve built for her will be ruined.”
“They won’t turn on her. Ara’s as much a victim as Keira. Or you.” Tears filled the father’s voice.
Ian couldn’t manage any sympathy.
“Let’s hope not,” Cameron gestured to her neck. “For her sake as well as yours, let’s hope not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keso loomed over Cameron.
Ian stepped silently into the room.
“If anything happens to her—”
“What? You’ll kill me?” His voice mocked her.
Cameron’s eyes held no mirth. “I’ll certainly have no reason not to.” The rasp of her voice made her words more sinister.
Keso spun away from her, his eyes going wide as they met Ian’s.
“Have you told him?” Though he spoke to Cameron, his gaze held Ian’s.
“There’s nothing to tell him,” she replied.
“Did she tell you that bastard who tried to kill her tonight killed my sister?”
Over Keso’s shoulder, he met Cameron’s gaze. Where defeat had resided moments before, determination now burned.
“Assuming the man you’re talking about is the same man who owned the plane, yes.”
“Did she tell you he’s Ara’s—”
“Stop it,” Cameron cried. “Don’t you say it, Keso. He’s nothing but a liability to her.”
Keso smirked. “But so am I, right?” With a final glare at Cameron, he pushed past Ian and into the hall. A moment later, the front door of the clinic banged shut.
Not knowing what to say, Ian remained in the doorway. Cameron’s lips twisted as if trying to keep her sobs contained.
Finally moving toward her bed, he asked, “Is he right? Was Victor Roberts the one who attacked you? The man who killed Keso’s sister?”
She laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Swallowing, she winced at the pain. “It wasn’t actually Victor Roberts. He doesn’t handle his own dirty work.”
It sickened Ian how callously she spoke of her attack. As if she wasn’t important, as if she wasn’t everything to him.
“Why?” He sank to the stool beside her bed. “What’s going on?”
He longed to touch her, hold her. But he recognized this side of Cameron. This was the version he’d dealt with after Africa. The cold, withdrawn shell of her had lived with him for six months before she left him. As much as he loved her, he didn’t know what to do with this version of her.
Releasing a harsh breath, she shifted her gaze to him. “Keira ran away from home. Victor Roberts got her somehow, willingly, I think. He made her his little pet. Until…” Clamping her mouth shut, she studied her broken fingernails.
“Until?”