Not that the police would agree. I’m pretty sure this crosses the line of self-defence and lands me somewhere deep in vigilante territory. But what are laws to someone like him?
“Nell!”
Cam’s voice tears through the thicket like a whipcrack, startling me into motion. For the first time, relief floods in—he can help me drag this sack of rot the rest of the way. My arms are jelly, my fingers numb, adrenaline flushed from my system and replaced by dull, aching fatigue.
“Over here!” I shout, voice hoarse, arm waving weakly toward the glow of two flashlights cutting through the trees.
I wince at their brightness, shielding my face, blinking back spots. And then Cam’s there—his hands gripping my shoulders, fingertips flitting over my skin, inspecting me like I might shatter.
“You okay?” he breathes, voice cracked with panic.
Talia’s already crouched beside the body, checking for a pulse—pointless, but who am I to tell her what to do.
“I did it, Cam,” I beam, too high on victory to care about the tremble in my legs. “I actually did it.”
“Who is this, Nell? Where did he come from?”
The question makes my chest tighten. I’d nearly forgotten the backstory wasn’t clear.
“I don’t know—he attacked me in the woods, but—”
“He attacked you?” Cam’s whole body locks up, muscles coiled like a spring, fists clenched at his sides.
“Yeah. One of the fuckers who raped me. Said you stole me. Whatever he meant, it doesn’t matter—I killed him. Used some Jackie Chan shit and took him down.”
I expect his rage. What I don’t expect is the way he wraps me in his arms, like he’s terrified he’ll lose me all over again. His heart drums so fast I can feel it through his shirt.
“Fucking hell, Nell.”
“He’s gone,” Talia says crisply. “I’ll grab the trailer. Where did it happen?”
“Back there,” I point to the tangled branches and trampled undergrowth behind me.
Talia’s already analysing it. “We’ll need to clean up.”
Cam nods grimly.
“But first, I’m getting her inside.”
Talia begins studying blood patterns, boot prints, the path I dragged him along.
“Did he hurt you?” she asks without looking up.
“Not this time,” I smirk, fingers curled into Cam’s shirt, body pressed against his warmth. “Are you proud of me?”
Cam stiffens, his gaze burning into my soul as he cups my face a little too roughly.
“Nell,” he growls. “I fucking love you. But don’t ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?”
His voice shakes, laced with emotion he rarely shows. But all I can hold is the fact he said those words—he loves me.
“Why were you even out here?”
“I just needed a walk. Wanted some space.”
A half-truth, but dragging Kyla’s drama into this moment feels wrong.
He holds me tighter, one hand curling through my hair, the other wrapping around my waist as if to tether me to reality.
