Page 91 of Penalty Kiss
My phone buzzes. A new message flashes across the screen:
Oh, I forgot—next time I’ll make sure the fire spreads.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. At first all I see is the threat. Then it seeps deeper—there’s mockery and its twisted implication. The kitchen fire. Did Lucien lit the match and left Cam holding the ashes?
For a moment I can’t breathe. Images flash—smoke, flames, Cam blaming himself until it ate him alive. His guilt, his reputation… tainted, all undeserved.
The confusion is real, but the fury is stronger.
I’ve had enough.
I turn to the only man who never asked me to hide, shrink, or earn his love.
“Come with me.”
Chapter 15
Battle Plans
Cam
“Pull up the footage.”
Tara’s voice snaps through the loft, crisp enough to leave the air stinging. She stands in the doorway, arms locked across her chest, jaw set, eyes bright and unblinking. I feel her restless fury that somehow makes the sunlight gleam fiercer behind her.
Whatever relief I’d carried from breakfast with my family is gone—replaced by a jolt of adrenaline and the certainty that something has gone badly wrong.
There’s no mistaking it—whatever she’s about to drop will hit harder than anything my family managed over breakfast.
“The footage of what?” My heart’s climbing my throat. “Tara, what happened?”
‘The fire.’ Her voice goes higher, words tumbling out fast. ‘Home security. From that day. Pull it up—now.’”
“On it.”
The air bristles. Then, she digs through her bag with barely-checked impatience and pulls out her phone. For a blink, I catch a glimpse of her screen:
Oh, I forgot—next time I’ll make sure the fire spreads.
The words hit like a fist to the chest.
She practically spits, “Cam, Lucien paid for our breakfast with your family! And then he sent this text!”
Her breath shakes, her composure cracking at the edges.
“I don’t even know if it’s him in person or one of his goons. But the server came to me with that family photo. Me—six years old! It’s intimidation, Lucien-style.” Her voice falters, but I can hear the scream inside.
A cold, electric fury rush into my chest. I take her phone, jaw clenched so tight it aches.
I push my own nerves down, smooth out my voice. “All right. Sit. I’ll pull up the files from three days ago—every angle.”
Perched on the edge of the couch next to me, she’s bouncing her heel, twisting her rings. Her nerves are loud enough I can hear them in my own bloodstream.
The security app loads on my laptop. I glance atTara—seeing the stubborn set of her chin, the faint sheen of sweat on her hairline. This isn’t just about smoke and flames anymore. This is Lucien reaching through time, ripping the scab off her oldest wound, and I can feel the sting like it’s mine.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur as the first camera loads, not really knowing what I’m apologizing for—a fire, a threat, her battered faith in me—or maybe for everything she’s about to see.
She shakes her head, eyes never leaving the screen. “Don’t be. I just... I need to see what actually happened."
