Page 64 of Penalty Kiss
I file away these details, adding them to my ever-growing catalog of Cam Wilder truths. His mother's approval matters to him. His father's medical opinion carries weight even when it stings. His brother's concern feels like judgment even when it's rooted in love.
"Can I tell you something?" I ask.
He nods.
"I've spent three years avoiding my family because I was sick of being controlled, manipulated, used all my life. But watching you with yours..." I struggle for the right words. "Sometimes love looks like worry. Sometimes care looks like interference. It doesn't make it wrong."
He doesn't respond immediately, but his thumb traces circles on my palm.
"Your dad isn't trying to make you feel broken," I continue. "He's trying to keep you safe. There's a difference."
"Doesn't feel different when you're the one being told to sit down, shut up, and let the adults handle things."
I get that. Oh, how I get that.
"What if we handled things together?" I ask. "Not just the danger stuff, but the healing stuff too. Your recovery, my family drama—what if we stopped trying to carry it all alone?"
He turns to study my face, searching for something. "You'd do that? Stick around for the messy parts?"
"Cam." I cup his face in my hands, making sure he sees me clearly. "I've already seen you forget my name. I've watched you struggle to remember conversations we had an hour ago. I've seen you frustrated and vulnerable and human."
His breath catches.
"And I'm still here. Still choosing you.”
I wait for my words to sink in for him.
And that’s when I realize it myself—I’m falling for the man who makes Korean corn dogs to prove he's more than anyone's pet, who recruits teenage spies at diners, who looks at me like I hung the moon even when his brain is playing tricks on him.
When he kisses me, it tastes like gratitude, possession, hope and the promise of showing up—really showing up—for each other.
Two people who found each other in the middle of running away, who decided to stop and fight for something real instead.
My phone buzzes again. A text this time.
Unknown number.
Come home, little cousin. Time to stop playing pretend.
Attached is a photo of Cam and me walking into the grocery store, both of us laughing at something he said. But that's not what makes my knees weak.
It's the fact that the photo was taken from inside the store.
He was already here. Watching. Waiting.
"What is it?" Cam asks, immediately alert to the change in my demeanor.
I hand him the phone with numb fingers, watching his expression shift from confusion to fury as he reads the message.
"Pathetic Coward." he spits, his entire body going tense. "He's been here. In town."
"The man Janet saw at the bakery. The one offering money for information." My voice sounds detached, clinical. "It could be him."
Cam is already moving, grabbing his jeans from the bedroom floor, pulling them on with sharp, efficient movements.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Calling Chief Alvarez. Then I'm calling Levi." He yanks a t-shirt over his head, transforming from sated lover to dangerous protector in seconds. “No more games.”
