The Camp (Chateau 2)

“You could just replace him with someone else.”

“Not really. It’s hard to get guards we trust. We can’t hire just anybody.”

She turned quiet, her teeth cracking the nuts in her mouth.

Alix and the guys hadn’t tried anything, but I didn’t drop my guard. I knew it was only a matter of time.

“What if you killed him outside the camp?”

My eyes froze on the words I was reading.

“When he rotates out, you could kill him, and no one would suspect you.”

I leaned back against the chair because it wasn’t the worst idea.

“Where does he live?”

“Nice.”

She continued to eat the nuts. “What do you think?”

It would fix my problems, except it would create new ones. “Fender would want to investigate who killed him, and if it had anything to do with the presence of this camp. It would worry him, and I’d have to lie to him and mislead him…”

“So?”

“I won’t lie to him.” I wouldn’t put him on a false trail and waste his time. I wouldn’t make him feel insecure about this camp when there was no need to.

It was quiet, but the energy in the room had changed.

She spoke again. “Why are you so loyal to him?”

“Because he’s my brother.”

“If my sister were a murderer, I wouldn’t be loyal to her.”

“I doubt that.”

“If she was hurting innocent people, damn right. Does he have something on you?”

This conversation was going in a direction I didn’t want to take. “What are you watching?”

She paused. “Did you seriously just try to change the subject?”

“Yes.” I raised my voice slightly. “Because I don’t want to talk about this.” I shut my laptop.

“Now—or ever?”

I stared at the wall, my thoughts turning dark. “Ever…preferably.”

We became domestic partners who developed a routine.

She showered after work, and I showered in the evenings.

Sometimes we ate dinner together, but most of the time, we didn’t.

In the evenings, she watched TV, and I worked on my laptop.

She didn’t ask me questions I didn’t want to answer.

She hadn’t initiated sex, and neither had I.

My attraction to her was undeniable, but being in this place curbed my arousal. I suspected her abrupt change in desire was a result of my mutilation. It made her sick to her stomach, and she couldn’t look at it again, not because of the scars or the appearance, but because it was directly her fault.

I didn’t take it personally.

I got out of the shower that night then walked naked into the bedroom to grab a pair of boxers from the drawer. Another week had passed, but we still had two more weeks to go. I didn’t hide my nakedness from her. She could look away if that was what she wanted. I turned to the bed when I was clothed.

She sat up against the wall, wearing one of my t-shirts that fit her loosely. The deep look in her eyes suggested she had something to stay.

I stood next to the bed, waiting for her to speak her mind.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s not that I think less of you. I just…feel so terrible every time I think about it.” Tears welled up in her eyes instantly, and she sniffled then wiped them away before they could fall. “It’s like this wall that I can’t climb because I know when I see it, I’ll…think about what happened.” She took a deep breath then stilled her emotional response, getting herself under control.

I continued to stand there, to watch her process all the ways she felt about it. “There’s no pressure—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“There is pressure…because I miss you.” She spoke about me like it was an unstoppable need, like I was water to her throat, air to her lungs. “I’ve wanted you since I’ve had you. I’ve wanted you since my apartment. I’ve always wanted you…”

Women had seduced me, had turned me on with the things they were willing to do to earn my attention, but a woman had never talked about me like her desire was such an intricate part of who she was. It was a need that satisfied other parts of her body, parts I didn’t even touch. “Then have me.” She chased away all the stress on my shoulders, made me feel like we were in my apartment in Paris, like we weren’t even part of this world anymore. My cock was hard in my boxers for the first time in weeks, and I’d never wanted to bed her more.

She breathed a little harder as she looked at me then gave a slight nod.

I dropped my boxers and let my hard cock come out.

This time, she looked at it, but she didn’t look at it with tears. She looked at it like I was just as whole as I’d been before.

“I would do it all over again.”

Her eyes lifted up and looked at me, emotion returning to her gaze.