Cameron shot me a wicked grin. “Are you tired?”
Cocking an eyebrow, I said, “Aren’t you?”
“I think,” she said, pulling the covers aside, “I need a little something before I can fall asleep.”
“You’re insatiable.”
She winked, then lowered her head. I fell back, moaning in pleasure as she took me into her mouth.
41
Cameron
“Do you really think this is gonna help?” I asked.
We were hunkered down behind a dumpster, waiting for our car to be dropped off. Nate kept glancing out behind the big metal bin toward the parking spot JC had told us to keep an eye on.
“What do you mean?” Nate asked.
“This whole Detroit thing. We don’t even know who this woman is. There’s no way of knowing if she’ll be of any help at all. I started thinking about it this morning when we were getting ready.”
Nate turned his full attention to me, settling his eyes on mine. “What else are we going to do? Better one lead than none. We won’t really know anything until we speak to her.”
“True,” I sighed. “I guess you can’t judge a source until you’ve heard what they have to say.”
I wasn’t entirely sure why I was hesitant about this. Part of it was probably what had happened the day before. My anxiety and paranoia grew with each passing day. Rick or his fatheror whoever was controlling all this was always a step ahead. Although, JC appeared to be doing the best he could to mitigate it.
“Is JC like other pack alphas?” I blurted the question out before I even realized I was going to ask it.
Nate’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s very helpful. When you described packs and the hierarchy and whatnot, I got the impression alphas were probably douchey assholes who had a superiority complex or something.”
Nate sighed heavily and checked around the dumpster again before responding. When he spoke, there was a sort of begrudging acceptance to his words.
“Are there shitty alphas? Sure. Is JC one of them? No. I can tell he’s a genuinely good guy trying his best to help us. All the stuff he’s done is part of why nearly all shifters enjoy being in a pack. Help is always a call away, for the most part. Packs…” He hesitated, then grimaced as if he didn’t want to say what he was thinking. “Well, packscanbe a good thing. They just haven’t been for me. Not usually, anyway.”
Before I could dig into that any further, the sound of a car cut off our conversation. Nate and I both leaned out to check if it was our special delivery. Two vehicles approached, a truck and a small sporty sedan. They swung directly into the parking spots JC had told us to watch. A big man parked the sedan, then got out. Without glancing around, he held the keys up above his head and shook them twice. Obviously, he knew he was being watched. He put the keys on the back tire, then got into the truck. We waited until the truck drove off before we stood.
“I guess that’s us,” Nate said, and reached out to take my hand. “Let’s go.”
We took our time as we walked to the car, not drawing attention. I glanced around, a little worried we’d be attackedagain. I imagined a shifter or a group of shifters lunging out at us, dragging our bodies down and into some unmarked van. A hundred bad fantasies flowed through my head, but in the end, nothing happened.
Nate retrieved the keys, and we were heading down the road in only a few seconds.
“Wow,” I said, smiling faintly and gazing out the window as we drove. “It’s kinda like we’re spies or something.”
Nate made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. “I guess you’re right. It kinda is like that.”
Ten minutes into the drive, my phone rang. Brent, my editor.
“Crap,” I mumbled, grimacing. “I need to take this.” I accepted the call. “Hey, Brent. What’s up?”
“Kid, are you being serious right now?” he asked, breathless with either excitement or worry. I couldn’t tell which.
“Uh, yeah. I think,” I said dumbly.
“I’m hearing alotof weird things right now. Were you, or were you not, in an officer-involved shooting? The team is getting word from their police sources that not only were you there, but that Rick Masters was arrested in connection to it. What thehell, Cam? Isn’t that your boyfriend? Mr. Moneybags?”
