Page 27 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
“I’m always playing a dangerous game,” I shrug.
Jamie steps in closer.“Do you even care what this does to her?You might think this is about Ethan, or me, or some half-assed vendetta—but Makayla?She’s collateral, Cam.She’s not built for the fallout you bring.”
“I know exactly what she’s built for,” I say.“And I never make moves I can’t protect.”
Jamie studies me like she used to when we were kids—trying to decide if I’m lying, or if the truth just sounds like a dare.“You say you’re protecting her,” she says, “but you couldn’t even protect the last woman who loved you.”
That one lands hard and I feel my stomach bottom out.I don’t flinch—but the silence between us goes cold.“Don’t talk about Taylor,” I say, quietly.
Jamie smiles at me.“She’s the only reason I haven’t gone to the press.”
“Do that,” I say.“And I’ll let everyone know how youcanreallyafford that brownstone in Buckhead, your fancy YouTube channel with the state-of-the-art cameras, and that six-figure PR team.”Her eyes narrow.“Oh, that’s right,” I murmur.“No shame in off-the-books contributions—unless they’re tied to shell companies with Russian crypto roots.Which they are.”
I rise from my chair slowly, casually, like I’ve got all the time in the world and nothing to lose.“You go to the press, Jamie, and I’ll bury you in so much financial mud that Ethan won’t even be able to crawl out after you.You'll both drown in the very image you spent years polishing.”
Jamie doesn’t flinch.Her chin lifts, proud.Reckless.“I’ve survived worse.”
“Have you?”I tilt my head.“Because this time?You won’t walk away clean.And neither will your golden boy.”
We stare each other down, the air sharp with challenge.She’s breathing hard, trying not to show it.But I see the twitch in her jaw, the calculations firing in her brain.Jamie steps forward, just enough to enter my space.“You think I won’t?Try me.”
I smirk.“No, I think youwill.And that’s what makes this so damn fun.”Jamie’s lips part, ready to fire another threat, but I cut her off before she can draw breath.“You want to talk about exposure?”I step closer, voice quiet, deadly.“The only reason you had that nice wedding was because of me.The only reason your husband isstill aliveis because of me.And let’s be real—the only reason you even exist in this political fairytale is because I let you.”
“Funny how you love reminding people what they owe you,” she snaps.“But I wonder whatTaylorwould think if she knew your grand gesture came with strings made of blood money.”I narrow my eyes, but she’s not done.“Does Taylor know you’re laundering money through the café, and that’s the real reason why you have cameras in there?Let’s see how far your little empire stretches when it’s under federal investigation.”
Jamie doesn’t flinch.She steps right into my space, chin high, eyes blazing.Her voice drops to a venom-laced whisper.“Or that the condo you gifted her is paid for by the same shell corporation?”
The words land like body shots, but I don’t show it.I don’t have to.
Jamie steps back, satisfied with herself, smug in that pretty little way of hers.“Say what you want, Cameron,” she says.“You’ve got power, sure.But you’re also sloppy.And if Taylor ever finds out the truth?”She tilts her head, that fake-ass smile spreading.“She’ll block you in real life, in spirit, and in the afterlife.Even your ghost will need clearance.”
I take a step toward her—measured, deliberate.There’s no heat in my voice when I speak.Justtruth, sharpened like a blade.“You won’t tell Taylor,” I say calmly.“Because that would require admitting how much you know.And if you know that much, Jamie, what does that makeyou?”
She opens her mouth, but I lift a hand.Not done yet.“You see, you love walking that line—close enough to the fire to stay warm, but never quite close enough to burn.But if youeverrepeat Taylor’s name in that tone, I will drag you into the flames with me.”
I close the distance until there’s barely space between us, voice low enough to bruise.“You think I’d be the one who crumbles if the truth came out?Sweetheart, Iamthe truth.Taylor already left me.That’s heartbreak.But you?”I look her dead in the eyes.“You lose your husband.Your career.Your shiny reputation.Your safety net.”I smirk.“You’d have nothing left but a headline and a prayer.”
Her breath hitches—just for a second.I let the silence stretch, just long enough for her to think she’s rattled me.Then I lean forward, steepling my fingers, tone smooth and sharp like broken glass in honey.“Don’t mistake your proximity to power for immunity from consequence,” I add.“Next time you want to threaten me, remember: I don’t bluff.Ibury.”
She tries to hold my stare.But I see it—that flicker of something behind her eyes.Recognition.Resentment.Fear.
“I want you to think about that every time you run your mouth about going to the press,” I go on, each word a nail in the coffin.“If I can control how happy your life is, I can also control how much you suffer if you ever try to cross me.”Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t speak.“So go ahead, Jamie.Make that call.Burn it all down.But understand something—when the ashes settle, you won’t be the survivor.You’ll be thelesson.”
We stare each other down.Same blood, different codes.Finally, Jamie sighs, stepping back.“You want revenge so badly, you’re willing to salt the earth and dance in it.But don’t act surprised when nothing grows back.”
“I don’t need anything to grow,” I say.“I just need the right people to fall.”
She looks at me, eyes tired now.“I miss the version of you that cared about more than power.”
I give a tired shrug.“I miss the version of you that wasn’t married to a cop.”
Jamie nods once, like we’re finally telling the truth.Then she walks away.
