Finding Love's Wings (30 page)

"Why not just stay here, in this room, with me?" She asks the question I was hoping for, but I didn't want to make assumptions and I wanted her to make the choice.
 

"If that's what you want, Cami, I would love to share this suite with you."

She smiles approvingly at me, and all traces of concern are gone from her face.
 

"That is exactly what I want. When Beau and Mick get here tomorrow, they can have my suite downstairs or stay in the second bedroom."

"That sounds like a great idea. There are actually three other bedrooms in this suite besides this one, room enough for all, if they’re willing to share."
 

"I guess that will depend on how well everyone gets along. Where's Tyson now?"
 

"He's in the third bedroom until I go and get him. You're free to go get what you need from the living room."

She grins. "Good. I need some clothes and to get in touch with Trinity."

"What about that shower you wanted?"

"That, too. Will you be joining me?"

I grin a wicked grin. "Of course!"
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hoping that Tyson really does stay in his room, I grab my chargers, my new Mac, the iPad, and my BlackBerry and head back into our room. Tristan is there to shut the door behind me.
 

As I set everything down on the desk, I catch a glimpse of Tristan from the corner of my eye. He's watching me intently, and it dawns on me that I'm still completely naked.

I turn toward him and smile. "Enjoying the view, Tristan?"
 

He blushes. "What do you think?" he grumbles.
 

I look down at his lap, and the answer is obvious. He is hard as a rock yet again. I grin.
 

As I finish plugging in my electronics I make an obvious effort to put on a show for him, bending a little too far forward so that my ass is in the air, my legs spread to reveal the lips of my sex. When I'm done I walk over to him, grab ahold of his shaft, and lead him into the bathroom by his cock.
 

"Oh you think so, little lady?"
 

I really enjoy that he calls me that. I continue to lead him into the bathroom, and he shuts the door behind us.

PART TWENTY-SEVEN

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About an hour later Cami and I finally emerge from the bathroom, squeaky clean and weak-kneed. We help each other dress with minimal distraction, and then Cami heads over to the desk to check her email while I open the door to the living room to see about ordering some food.
 

To my surprise, Tyson is sitting in a chair watching the bedroom door. His face is a stony mask.

"What's wrong, Ty?" I ask.
 

"Trinity has been blowing up my phone, trying to reach you and Cami."

No sooner has he finished his sentence than Cami shouts my name from the bedroom. Her voice is laced with horror, and for a moment fear surges through my body.
 

"Cami, what's wrong?" I ask. She's sitting at the desk, one hand covering her mouth and the other frantically trying to dial her phone. "Calm down, Cami. Breathe, Sweets. It's all right." Her panic is contagious.
 

I walk around the desk and stand behind her. She's looking at an image on her computer. In the sidebar the email program icon is bouncing up and down with new emails.
 

"I texted Trinity and told her that you guys would be in touch shortly. No doubt she is blowing up Cami's phone and email," Tyson says from the bedroom door.
 

I look back at the computer and it only takes half a second to realize what she's looking at. It's a house, or what used to be a house. The charred remains of a house. Something about the picture strikes me as odd, familiar even.
 

"Are there more pictures, Cami?" I ask.

She clicks to the next one. A press shot, crystal clear but at some distance, and from that angle I immediately recognize the building. It's Layla's house. The house we had shared for the last two years of our relationship.
 

"Jesus fuck!" I shout, and Cami jumps. "How the fuck did that happen?" I'm struggling to catch my breath. I whisper, "Layla?"

Cami's hand comes down slowly from her mouth. "I don't know anything else yet. This is the first email I clicked on." She clicks out of the picture and moves back to her email inbox.
 

Just then her Skype lights up. It's Trinity. She pushes the button to answer the call. Within seconds Trinity's face pops up on the screen.
 

"Please, dear God, tell me that Layla is all right?" Cami says.

"From what we know, yes. She's fine. We were told that she had been staying somewhere else since the premiere." Trinity speaks very matter of fact.
 

"What the fuck happened?" I practically shout at the laptop.
 

"There are mixed reports right now, but the majority of them point to a disgruntled fan that went off half-cocked once the story was posted. I sent you a video. The girl in the video calls Layla a slut and several other unflattering names and claims to have set the fire in retribution for how she treated 'Dakota.' Clearly not a stable person."

Someone, some deranged fan, burned down Layla's house because of what she did to me. If it weren't for the fact that this girl is obviously in serious need of professional help, I might have thanked her for sticking up for me.

"Supposedly the arson was recorded, and the police are investigating it," Trinity continues. "The fire is out, obviously. You can see from the pictures. The police seem to be pretty confident that no one was inside at the time."

"Thank God for that," I bark. "Where was her security team when this went down?"

"That," Trinity began, "is why we are pretty sure Layla was not on the property." She stops talking and looks away from her monitor at what I'm assuming is a cell phone or a tablet of some type. She's reading something. Several different emotions cross her face, and she gasps at a couple of different points.

"What, Trinity?" Cami's the first to attempt to break the tension.
 

"It's a tentative press release from the Orange County Sheriff's Office. Apparently there is some speculation that Tristan was in the house at the time of the fire, and there are reports surfacing of his disappearance. They intend to address in their press release that they do not know where he is and that his last contact with Layla was a week ago. They are also saying that while Tristan had full access to the home, they're unsure of whether or not he was in the house at the time of the fire."
 

Her phone rings in the background. She holds up one finger at us and answers it.
 

"Yes, Vinnie? Yeah, I have them both on Skype right now. Yes. All right, hang on." She lowers the phone from her ear and presses a button, and Vinnie's voice comes over the Mac.
 

"Hi, guys!" Vincent sounds almost chipper.
 

"Hi," Cami and I say in unison.
 

"Listen, here is what I know so far. The police are concerned for Tristan's well-being. Until they hear from Tristan directly, they are going to proceed as if he is a missing person."

I hear Cami gasp and look over in time to see her facial expression change from shock to determination. "We have to stop that from happening, Vin."
 

The business side of Cami that made its first appearance a couple of days ago is about to have it's own PDF file; she's no longer Cami but Cameron Enders, CEO of Bold International.
 

"Can we release a statement without Tristan needing to talk to the police?"

"No, Tristan needs to make contact with the Orange County Sheriff's Office. We have already tried on his behalf, but OCSO won't go for anything less than Tristan himself contacting them."
 

"Jesus fuck! Why the hell do I have to call them? I don't need or want to have my location revealed to them or anyone else," I nearly shout from across the room, which I’ve been pacing. "Short of showing up at the police department, how am I supposed to prove who I am?"

"That's actually the easy part. You can Skype in. We told them that was the only way that you'd be able to make contact with them because you are not presently in the country. Of course that raised more than a few eyebrows. I'll send Cami the Skype info on Deputy Peterson."

"I can handle Skype, but I will not contact him from my account."

"You can use mine, Tristan," Cami chimes in. She looks paler than normal, if that's even possible.
 

I mouth to her, "Are you okay?"
 

She nods, only slightly, not wanting to tip off Trinity to her stress. This whole situation must really be getting to her.
 

"Is there anything else I need to know right now?" I ask. I just want the whole thing over with. Trinity shakes her head.

"When we're off of Skype with Deputy Peterson," Cami says, sternness in her voice, "I'll write up a press release to forward to you. We're now left with no choice but to release a statement, and I will inform the Sheriff's office of our intention so they don't go running to the press with the fact that they have talked to Tristan. I'm sure they're already working on something based off of your conversations with them."

“We can write up the press release on your behalf. You don't need to do that."

"Trinity, I appreciate your wanting to handle this, but this is affecting me in ways I never thought. Cami and I will put it together, in my own words, and forward it to you. From there you can change whatever you think necessary, but it has to come from my own mouth."

"We'll take care of it, Trinity," Cami says, her voice strained.

"All right, you two. Get in touch if you need anything further, and I'll let you know as soon as I know more.
 

“Oh. And Tristan?"

"Yeah."

"Don't be surprised if it comes out that this was Layla's own scheme to take the heat off of her. The Internet is abuzz with both stories, but the news is focusing on the fire more than the article."

The crazy thing about what Trinity just said is that I agree with her. Layla is manipulative enough to have done this on her own. "She is just that naive to think that she can get away with this," I say.

Trinity just nods. "All right, Tristan, I leave you in Cami's hands."

"Thanks so much," Cami mutters.
 

Trinity chuckles and disconnects.
 

I turn to Cami. I'm concerned about the strength it has taken to handle this and what her reaction is. She looks to be a wreck.
 

"Cami, what's wrong?"
 

She looks up at me, and her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Her silence is almost more than I can handle.
 

"Baby-girl, it’s all right."
 

I reach out for her hand, she takes it, and I pull her from the chair into a hug. Her shoulders start to shake as soon as she is in the protective barrier of my arms.
 

I turn to Tyson and nod. He bows his understanding and silently leaves the room.
 

"It's just you and me, Sweets," I whisper, and as if on cue she lets loose what I didn't realize she was holding back. Her body shakes harder with silent sobs, and I can feel her tears soaking into my shirt.
 

I pull back, just enough so that I can reach her chin to lift her face toward mine. When she's looking up at me, I bend down and softly kiss away the tears.
 

"Don't cry, baby-girl," I whisper.
 

"I...I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's come over me."
 

She's so unbelievably beautiful. All her walls are down and crumbling, and in this moment I know that it will break my heart to ever let this girl go.
 

"Tell me," I say, speaking softly. "Why are you so upset?"

She hesitates for a moment, then says, "I'm sorry. I just got so overcome with the idea that you could have been in that house. That you could have been killed, kidnapped, or hurt. I know you're safe. I feel you in my arms, but the idea that someone would try to harm you..." She doesn't need to finish her statement. I can see in her eyes that she's truly shaken up by the idea of losing me.
 

"Oh, Cami. Please, don't cry. I am here, safe, with you. The only place I need or want to be." I hug her tighter to show her that I really am here.

"I'm really sorry about your stuff."
 

At first I don't understand what she means. Then it dawns on me.
 

"I had nothing in that house that cannot be replaced. A few pairs of shoes and a few pairs of jeans, at best. The one thing I learned early on was to keep minimal possessions and to keep them with me at all times. I travel with what's most important to me, and the rest is expendable."

"That's good," she says softly.
 

I lean down and lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. I kiss her. A chaste kiss, meant to be comforting. Deep kisses will just lead us right back into bed, and we have work to do.
 

For a moment we stare into each others eyes, communicating without words. With her eyes she lets me know that she is very happy and that she, too, feels that this is a turning point with us.
 

Cami says, "We have work to do."

"Just one more kiss, then I'll let you down." I smile against her lips and kiss her again. And then again, more deeply, dancing dangerously close to distraction.
 

Cami giggles against my lips and squeezes me closer and tighter to her body. I can feel her nipples, hard as a rock, pressed against my chest. So not helping, I think. I have been dying to lay her back out on this bed since we left the bathroom.

"All right, back to work, my little bear," she says.