Mercenary's Loving Lie by Crown Celia

Author:Crown, Celia [Crown, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Dove

After I have had agents questioning me about what had happened, Camden was there to pick me up from the meeting room. It was a nicer way of saying interrogation room, but I wasn’t a suspect and Camden made sure to let them know that I was the victim and if they treated me with any disrespect, he would not be happy.

Camden is never happy about anyone.

I got a couple of days off, and I never went to see Jerome Mess even though he had asked me to. Now I have another letter in my hand saying that he wants to meet again; Camden had immediately shot out that idea.

He doesn’t want me near Jerome again, but the need to get to the truth about Yolanda hits me more than the pain I had felt when I was terrified by photos. It wasn’t the most graphic pictures that I have seen, but this one is addressed to me.

It was aimed at me.

I begged Camden to let me see Jerome one last time to get the answers. He knows things that I didn’t know it was possible, and he wouldn’t lie about knowing Yolanda if he didn’t have information.

He eventually caved in because he knows how much Yolanda means to me, and her death had taken a toll on my life. If he didn’t let me see Jerome, it’s a sign that he doesn’t respect me enough to have my own independence.

I can take care of myself. It’s not the first time I have to face a stressful situation by myself, and I doubt he will be there every time something like this happens.

I thought it would be alright if I had Camden beside me when I meet with Jerome again, but it doesn’t erase the hauntingly charming smile on his lips.

“We meet again, Miss. Dove.”

At least he’s respectful this time, but I don’t even bother to correct the right title. I’m married, and he’s talking to me as if I’m a single woman.

“I thought that day I had frightened you away.”

Camden glares at the man across from the table, shackled and restrained with a hook on the floor to prevent him from jumping up to attack. This meeting is supposed to be between glass with phone cords connecting, but Camden had gotten a room where it’s big enough for him to physically fight Jerome without hurting me and small enough to make sure three guards don’t overhear our conversation.

“Don’t try anything,” Camden warns, sitting in front of him while I stick to my husband’s side.

Jerome’s smile widens, “My old friend—"

Camden snaps hastily, “I’m not your friend.”

The two of them are at a standoff of masculinity; neither of them wants to back down, but I also need to know what this entire conversation is going to be like. I don’t have time or the patience to wait for one of them to blink, so I tug on Camden’s arm, and he glances down at me after he had glared with hate to the other man.

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