Page 44 of Camping with the Boss

“Yes,” I agree. He grabs my arms and brings them to my side. They tingle as the blood returns.

Wade steps back and adjusts his dick, and my gaze locks on the bulge in his pants. He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re not helping.” Then he grabs random papers off the table and covers his not-so-little problem. “Remember what I said?” I nod, not trusting my voice. “Good.” He gives me a quick kiss. “Go get some lunch.”

After he’s gone, I slide against the door. I’m still hard, needy, and so, so screwed.

Chapter Ten

Wade

Wednesday, June 11th, 2 p.m.

As Canyon readies the group, his gaze is on everyone but me. He’s been quiet since our impromptu make-out session. Is he changing his mind?

The message from Steph this morning had been a wake-up call. Meredith was digging into Tim’s case again. The case was settled out of court months ago. Why would Meredith need to go through it again now? There could only be one reason. She figured out the truth. And she plans on burying me with it.

I hated leaving Canyon this morning, but I needed to look over those files. Steph gathered everything, and we met in Plevna. There wasn’t much. That was part of the problem. George was Tim’s supervisor and supposedly documented everything. But the evidence of George’s continued concerns with Tim’s work performance wasn’t there. The most damning evidence in Tim’s favor was an email from George that stated Tim had made improvements and he no longer had concerns. That was right before Tim was fired.

I felt hopeful yesterday, but the progress we made now seems superficial. I still have someone—possibly more than one person—on my team feeding information to Meredith. Nothing in the files gave me the answers I needed.

I’m back where I started. Not knowing who I can trust on my team.

Meredith has complete control over everything.

I rub my wrist, suddenly back there.

Meredith’s hand is on my wrist as she leads me to her office. My uncle’s office before he died. I try to wiggle free, but her hand tightens. Her ice-cold eyes look past me to my brother. No words needed. If not me, then him.

This is not a new threat, but I choke on how unfair it is. Ander is only nine. Too young. His hands are baby-smooth.

But I was his age when Uncle Frank died, and an awful thought flashes through my mind before I can stop it.

It’s his turn.

The guilt and shame are immediate and wrapped in righteous anger, which burns more than my hands as she punishes me. I’d do anything to protect my brother. Gladly take any punishment. But I can’t undo that fleeting thought that says otherwise. Wishing my brother harm, even for a second, will stay with me forever. Added to my guilt already piled high, but not high enough to completely erase my anger.

Anger at our parents. The distracted driver. Our uncle for marrying a monster dressed in sensible clothes and a caring façade and then leaving us with her.

My anger serves a purpose. It shields me from the pain…gives me something else to focus on.

No. It fuels my pain into something more. One day, I won’t be eleven and powerless. One day, I’ll be the one in control. And my aunt will be the one hurting.

“Wade.”

The voice is distant. Someone grabs my shoulders, and I jerk away. But it isn’t Meredith.

It’s Ander.

He steps back, holding up his hands, hurt flashing briefly in his dark eyes. I’ve seen that look many times. I’ve caused that look too many times.

Add it to the pile. Soon, my guilt will tower over me. Crush me.

“Sorry, Ander—” I shake my head. Not able or willing to explain.

“Where were you this morning?” he asks in a clipped tone.

I shake off the past and focus on his words. “I told Jared?—”

“Yeah. I was there.”

---