Fallen

“That’s why you became the sheriff’s deputy? Why you’re trying to become part of the guild? To catch them doing something you can use against them?”

“We’ll use whatever we can to try to bring justice to those who deserve it.”

“Including yourself. And . . . your friends.”

He nodded once.

Scarlett sat back, sinking into the couch. She looked shocked and angry and confused. Overwhelmed.

“Right now, we have no proof. We have nothing.”

Her eyes met his. “Especially since I bought Lilith House.”

“Yes.” It was true. They’d had this grand plan. It’d kept them going. They’d take the town down. They’d own the place where they’d once been made victims. They’d rule it all. Only, the more their plan had taken shape, the more specific it’d gotten, the more lust for power and revenge he’d seen in his friends’ eyes . . . and in all honesty, even in the reflection staring back at him from the mirror, the more he’d wondered how alike he and the other guild members really were.

Hadn’t Hubert Bancroft once lusted for power so strongly he was willing to forsake others for his own gain? Hadn’t he seen that very thing take hold of Georgia and Mason when Scarlett had moved in and upended all their plans? They’d been willing to terrorize her, and her child—young and innocent like they’d been when they were victimized—in order to move Scarlett and Haddie out of the way. In order to be rid of them. And then they’d both felt betrayed by him when he’d demanded they stop, when he’d protected Scarlett instead of menacing her.

He’d satiated them by recommending Mason for the renovation job, but that would only be temporary. Then what?

Then what would happen to this woman whose smile made him feel alive for the first time in his miserable life? This woman who set his body on fire, and his heart reeling in some way he couldn’t even describe?

He’d tried to feel those things for Georgie, he really had, but he never could manage anything more than deep abiding friendship, and a protectiveness he’d never quite lived up to. God, it made him feel guilty. Because he knew she loved him. She always had.

“You said the guild asked you to follow me from Farrow? Why? Where do I come into this?”

“They’re suspicious of you. They’re suspicious of your daughter. You—”

“What the hell could they be suspicious about in a seven-year-old girl?”

“Who knows, Scarlett? They’re not rational.” And they weren’t, and he knew Scarlett had every right to be angry. “You have a connection to Lilith House. You knew the one person who got away, whether she’s been heard from or not, whether she’s presumed dead or not . . .” He watched her closely, saw the flicker of sorrow in her expression. “They’re trying to learn more about you before they decide whether or not to let you stay for good.”

“Stay for good? How would they force me to leave?”

“They’d come up with a hundred ways. They’ve done it before, they’ll do it again. No one stays in Farrow who isn’t wanted there.”

“By the guild?”

“By the guild,” he confirmed.

She searched his face for a moment. “Wouldn’t that be more convenient for you? To let them do the dirty work of running me out of town?”

“Yes,” he admitted. He’d promised to be completely honest with her and he’d meant it. It would be easier. Apparently, though, somewhere along the line, Camden had decided against the easier path.

That day at the stream. Those peace-filled moments with her. The rightness. You know that’s when it was. That’s exactly when it was.

Scarlett stood, walking stiffly to the sliding glass door of the balcony and walking outside. He followed, and came to stand next to her at the steel railing, looking out over the city. He gazed at her, took in her profile, the slender line of her neck, the way a silken tendril of hair lay across her cheek. He longed to brush it aside, to say something that would wipe the deeply worried look off her face.

“Say something,” he said, his words choked.

She turned toward him, her gaze moving from one feature to the next. “I want to help,” she finally said.

He hadn’t expected that. He’d hoped to God he could trust her with his secrets—with their secrets for it was about Georgia and Mason too, it always had been, hadn’t it?—but he hadn’t expected Scarlett to offer her assistance. His heart swelled, happiness overcoming him. The problem was . . . “Unless you’re willing to sell Lilith House to us—”

“I’m not,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m happy to hire Mason back if he’ll accept. I’m happy to give you access to any and every square inch of it. You can search the places you think Kandi may have hidden any proof she collected. I’ll help you do that. You can dig up the grounds if you want—they’re going to be re-done anyway, but I am not selling. Farrow needs to be wiped of corruption, its secrets exposed, this antiquated notion of fallen women erased, and whatever else they have going on that you don’t even know about, and I want to help with that. But I’m . . . we’re meant to be there, Camden, Haddie and I. I feel that in my bones. So many things, happening in just the right timing, brought me to Lilith House. Even before the day I found that flyer, that you dropped, circumstances beyond my control have been moving me toward Farrow, nudging me along, arranging the precise instances that would eventually take me there. Even the fact that I had the money to purchase it when I saw that it was for sale.” He watched her. He’d wondered about that. He knew how much Lilith House had been listed for, and even though it’d been a bargain for what it was and the land it was on, it was still a hell of a chunk of change. It’d taken Georgia, Mason, and him years of scrimping and saving and they were only almost at that magic number that would have meant they owned it outright.