after this night (camren)

15. Lauren

"I have a price tag on my head"

......

It was almost too crazy to believe, but the truth was messy. Lies were ironclad. They added up too neatly. Lies were padded so thick they became airtight and couldn't breathe. The truth was frayed, like the tattered end of a rope. The truth was full of holes that were evidence of its veracity. Still, I could tell proof was vitally important to her, so I pulled my own phone from my pocket and dialled Luis.

"Hey man, can you run a quick check on someone for me?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely for you" my friend said in his gregarious voice.

I gave him the basic details, "Just let me know what kind of business he's running. Doable?"

"This is easy. I'm in front of my laptop right now, and will run a few quick searches. That is, if my lady friend doesn't come back and try to distract me."

I smiled briefly. "Have fun with Tess. But take care of me too."

"You bastard, you owe me so much. I love it when you owe me. I love running down shit for you because it gives me one more thing to add to my totals. There's only one other person I do this for free for" Luis said, his voice stretching across the country like a big old Texas-style hug.

"Who's that?"

"I'm not saying but she's a lot prettier than you"

"I should hope so"

I hung up, and returned to Camila. She looked different than she had before. She'd always been tough, strong, a woman of the world. Now she looked empty, as if she'd shed all her emotions and replaced them with cool blankness. I reached for her, gripping her arms gently but firmly as I kept my eyes fixed on her, "That story is crazy, and I hate what he did to you and I hate that anyone wants to hurt you, and here's the thing—I won't let them now. You know that, right? You're with me, and that means I'm here to help you. You tried to protect me and that was the most adorable, sweetest, sexiest thing anyone has ever done, but you don't have to because that's my job. Got that?"

She said nothing, just stared hard at me. She was shutting down, and I was having none of that. Not after she'd finally opened up, "I'm not running" I said firmly, refusing to let her look away, "I'm here for you. I'm here with you, and I want to help you. That's what I do. That's what I want to do for you."

"Why?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Why?" I said, my voice louder. I was going to have to make this abundantly clear, "Because I flew here to see you. Because you are under my skin. Because this fucking bastard left you with a shit ton of problems and if I ever find him, I will make sure he pays. And because you have the mafia after you."

"That doesn't scare you? Make you want to run?" She shot me a challenging stare, almost as if she were daring me to walk away.

"No" I said crisply.

There wasn't a chance in hell that was happening. I straightened my spine, planted my feet wide, making it clear in every way that I was staying, "It makes me want to stay"

"Why do you want to help me?"

I shook his head in frustration, but deep down I understood why she was behaving like this. She'd admitted something terribly private, and self-preservation was familiar ground for her.

"May I remind you of your toast in there?" I tipped my chin to the reception. Through the glass, the guests were still spinning on the dance floor, the twinkling lights illuminating their steps. Waiters moved nimbly about, passing out appetizers. "Common interests and passion? Ring a bell?" I said, waiting for her to acknowledge what she'd said a mere hour ago. She nodded once, "I feel the same"