Make Me Up Read online

The butler blanched and tried to wiggle free.

  She almost felt bad for the bastard. Almost. She put her hand on Cam’s arm. He dropped the butler, who scurried over to the couch.

  “You could go to the police now—tell them everything.” It was a long shot, but Drea had to put out the option. The cops would never believe her if she brought them this story without proof. She needed him to confess. “You could probably go into witness protection.”

  Fergus side shuffled the length of the couch, then stopped when he came to the wall with a window overlooking the street. His voice rose an octave. “Tommy has his sights set on you, Drea. Of course, at this point, he would happily kill me too.”

  “We won’t let him,” she said. “Just come with—”

  “It’s too late. He’s already on his way here. So are the cops.”

  Cam let out a low growl. “And why would he be on his way here?”

  Fergus backed away. “I couldn’t not call him—or the cops. I didn’t have a choice. I haven’t for a long time.” He peeked through the blinds covering the window facing the street, making them jiggle in time with his shaking hands. “Here they come now.”

  Drea’s vision darkened around the edges as the panic roared through her veins. Would they never be more than a few steps ahead of the law and the lawless? The world wobbled, and her stomach roiled. She turned away from Fergus, sucked in a deep breath, and caught sight of Cam in the open doorway. Cocky pretty boy that he was, he had the audacity to wink at her. It popped the tension bubble caught in her chest and made her laugh—no doubt just as he’d intended.

  She didn’t know where she’d go or what the hell would happen next, but she wasn’t about to stick around to see if it was the cops or Diamond Tommy’s goons who’d gotten there first.

  “Let’s blaze, babe.” There wasn’t an ounce of worry in Cam’s voice.

  She didn’t hesitate. Whatever happened next, they’d find a way. Together. They always did. She sprinted across the room and out the door.

  Cam took the steps two at a time as he hustled up the stairs to the heavy metal door leading to the roof, Drea right beside him. They burst out into the sunlight, and the July humidity smacked against his cheek with full force. The deserted rooftop didn’t offer any human-sized hiding spots, but that wasn’t what he was looking for.

  They needed an out.

  What he wouldn’t give for an extraction team right about now. He’d been in worse spots before, but none with Drea—and that changed everything. It gave the adrenaline rushing through his veins an extra kick and had him skating the edge of crazy.

  He scanned the horizon, and the solution appeared a block away in the form of ten-acres of green in the middle of Harbor City’s urban jungle. The western corner of which sat right next to where Cam had left his motorcycle.

  “See that?” He pointed west. “If we can get to Central Square, we can double back to my bike and get the hell out of here without anyone seeing us.”

  “And just how are we going to get there?” Drea asked.

  Their options were limited, but that had never stopped him before. It sure as hell wasn’t going to now.

  He ran to the rooftop’s edge. There was a four story drop between Fergus’s building and the brownstone next to it. Scary as shit for a newbie, but totally doable. “We’re jumping.”

  She followed him to the edge, looked down at the alley forty feet below, and gulped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He wished he was, but he couldn’t tell her that. “You’re not going to wimp out on me now are you?”

  “Never.” She sprinted to the edge and sailed over, cleared the open space between buildings like a pro.

  She touched down on the other side and stumbled forward a few steps before drawing herself up to her full height. She turned and gave him a thumbs up, like she did this as often as he did.

  He nearly reeled back from the realization. Drea had never done this—ever—until he’d pushed her to this point. He’d dragged her along on this crazy chase without stopping to make a plan or figure out if this really was the best course of action. He’d fucked this up, and now she was running for her life from Diamond Tommy and the cops. He could have taken her to the cops despite Tommy’s warning. He could have gotten her on the first flight to a tropical island free from threat of extradition. But he hadn’t. He’d failed her. All her options were gone because of him.

  Tires squealed to a stop in front of the building. Cops or Diamond Tommy’s goons? He didn’t even bother to look. Either way, they needed to get the fuck out of Dodge and to the safe house. There he’d figure out how to get her out of this mess and get the hell out of Drea’s life before he fucked it up even more. She deserved more than a fucked up junkie’s kid who couldn’t keep his own shit straight.

  Cam pushed his legs until this thighs burned with the effort, sprinted across the roof, and jumped into the sky. He’d done a million different jumps in a million different locations, but he’d hated every single one more than Indiana Jones loathed snakes. After what seemed like an eternity, his feet hit the gravel of the other rooftop, and he slid to a stop.

  In the distance, a dot grew until he could make out the body of a white helicopter with WHBC 4 painted on it in dark blue.

  “We have company.” He pointed to the news chopper closing in on their position fast.

  She backed up to the farthest edge of the roof and curled her arms into a running position. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Get in line.” He backpedaled until his heels hit the roof’s edge.

  She flipped him off, then took off at a run and leaped over the gap between buildings. He followed three steps behind. They repeated it one more time before latching onto the fire escape at the last building and swinging over the edge.

  They scaled down the fire escape in record time. All that stood between them and the tree line was a trash-strewn abandoned lot.

  Police sirens sounded at the other end of the block.

  Their time was up.

  “It’s now or never,” he said. “We need to get to the trees.”

  She moved to run, but he grabbed her arm.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “Whatever happens, don’t stop. All that matters is you getting out of this mess I made for you. I promise, after that you won’t have to worry about me again.”

  She gave him a quizzical look, but there wasn’t time for discussion. He nudged her forward and they took off, stomping on fast food bags and hurdling empty boxes as they crossed the lot.

  A few steps ahead of him, Drea disappeared into the thick trees on the edge of Central Square. Tires squealed behind them, but he didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He’d spent too many years dodging the police to mistake the sound for anything but the arrival of cops. He made it to the trees just as the first uniformed officer hollered for him to halt.

  But that wasn’t what made him stop. As bad as the sound behind him was, he could see something much worse ahead of him.

  Diamond Tommy’s head goon, Isaiah Knight, with one heavily tattooed forearm locked around Drea’s throat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “There are no rules in makeup. If there were, I’d break them anyway.” - Jaclyn Hill

  Cam read the situation in a heartbeat. Cops behind him, psycho in front of him, and Drea caught in the middle. A calculating coldness swept up from his toes and turned the world crystal clear. His mission—his only mission—was to get Drea out of Knight’s grasp any way he could. They’d figure the rest out later.

  He didn’t move, not a single inch. He couldn’t—not yet—and it was killing him not to barrel through the brush to her side. Knight would snap her neck before Cam took a single step. He couldn’t just act this time. He had to plan or Drea would pay the price.

  For her part, Drea stood stock still, her gaze steady and her tell-tale jittery thumb tucked inside her curled fingers. Considering all the shit she’d been through,
he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d lost it right then and there. But she didn’t. The stubborn woman probably didn’t want to give Knight the satisfaction of knowing he’d riled her. He loved that about her.

  He loved her.

  The realization landed like a direct hit from a fifty-caliber machine gun straight to the chest, and he’d be damned if he was going to let anything come between them now, especially not a thug with shitty taste in tattoos. He’d do whatever it took to make her safe. Whatever. It. Took.

  Looking every bit like a dead man who hadn’t been given the news yet, Knight eyeballed him with giddy fucking delight. “Welcome to the party, bro. Long time no see.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about renewing our acquaintance. Let her go.” If he didn’t, a world of pain was about to rain down on him.

  Knight twisted his mouth into an exaggerated frown. “Not gonna happen.”

  “In a few minutes, this park is going to be crawling with cops.” Diamond Tommy had friends, but he still didn’t own the entire force.

  The goon shrugged his thick shoulders. “I’m fucking shaking in my boots.”

  Cam’s brain raced, trying to come up with a story, a tact, a hustle that would get Knight’s attention off Drea and onto Cam. He’d heard the stories about Knight and all the people he’d carved up at Diamond Tommy’s orders—and those he’d hurt just for the fun of it. Most were bigger and thought they were meaner than Knight. The one thing the thug couldn’t resist was an ego challenge.

  Bingo.

  Cam puffed his chest out and widened his stance. It was the same tact he’d taken before every barroom brawl or pissing match he’d ever been in. Just the thing to prick Knight’s ego. “You really think she’s the one you need to be worried about?”

  “Afraid I’m gonna mess up your bitch’s hair?” He nuzzled his chin against her smooth ebony hair.

  He’d pay for that. Soon. “She’s gonna walk out of here.”

  “We both know that’s not gonna happen.”

  “There’s a news copter right on top of us—probably with a live shot beaming out to homes all over Harbor City. They saw us going in here.”

  “So what?” Knight asked.

  “You’re the brains of the operation aren’t you?” Cam laid the snark on heavy, hoping the full on frontal testosterone challenge would drag the goon’s attention away from Drea and onto him. “Try to follow along, numb nuts. Do you really think Diamond Tommy wants his number one thug on live TV standing over the dead body of Harbor City’s most wanted while police converge?”

  The sound of snapping branches and rushed steps filtered through thick clumps of trees around them. The police were closing in. Time was up. He had to get Drea out of here.

  “They’ll never touch me.” But the sweat pooling along Knight’s forehead betrayed his don’t-give-a-fuck tone.

  “But I will.” Cam took a deliberate step forward and shifted his gaze from Knight’s ugly mug to Drea.

  She winked at him. As far as a secret code between them, that little flash of sass was as close as they had. But it was more than bravado, it confirmed she understood what he was doing and was primed to act when necessary.

  “Think you can take me, pretty boy?” Knight asked. “You can’t.”

  Just enough crazy danced across the thug’s face to let Cam know exactly what he was up against. Cam didn’t give a shit. What happened to him didn’t matter, but he had to get Drea out of here. He couldn’t take the chance that she’d get hurt if Knight got the drop on him. She had to live to fight another day—especially on the off chance that he didn’t.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet my right hook soon enough,” Cam said. “But it’s not gonna come to that.”

  The confidence in his voice must have played on all the goon’s second thoughts, because Knight’s cocky grin disappeared. “How’s that?”

  “Because you’re going to let her go.”

  “Why would I do that?” Knight asked.

  “Because Tommy wants the police focused on making a murder charge against her stick, not wondering who killed her.” The thug’s look of understanding was all the confirmation Cam needed that Tommy was in this up to his thick neck. “You and I both know he needs her alive if he wants the cops to keep their attention on her instead of the high-dollar blackmail scheme he’s got going on in the background. The more time they spend looking for her, the less time they spend sniffing around the rest of the Orton’s business.”

  “You think you know so much,” Knight said as a police dog howled nearby.

  Cam didn’t want to bum rush Knight—not when he could snap Drea’s neck in about half a second—but in another thirty seconds he wasn’t going to have any other choice. “Yeah. And unless you’re a complete moron who wants to explain to Diamond Tommy why he just lost a major revenue source, you’d better let her walk.”

  The color drained from every part of Knight’s face except for his tattoos. His hold on Drea slackened—

  She slammed her heel down on Knight’s instep and broke free. Cam pushed her behind him in one fluid motion.

  “What do you think happens to her now?” Knight bellowed.

  Ice filled up every last part of Cam. One way or another, things were going to end badly for Knight and his friends, but there was business to conduct first. “She’s gonna walk out into that vacant lot and you’re not going to do a damn thing about it.”

  “Wrong.” Knight laughed.

  Drea screamed.

  Cam whirled around and his whole world collapsed in on itself.

  Two men in police uniforms held Drea between them. One of them had his police-issued revolver snug against Drea’s ribcage. The other had his gun trained on Cam’s head.

  “Perfect timing boys, but you better get her out of here before the rest of the squad shows up,” Knight said. “You see, pretty boy, Tommy decided your bitch here was more trouble alive than dead. Now we’re going to let the folks in county take care of her. She’ll be dead by tomorrow morning. Tommy put up twenty thousand to guarantee it. Game over.”

  “This isn’t a game.” Cam let all the emotion drain out of him until the world was as cold as a glacier in the arctic. He took a step toward the cops.

  The cop aiming at Cam fired. The shot boomed as the bullet whizzed by his head.

  “The next one will go in her gut,” the dirty cop yelled as he jammed his gun into Drea’s side. “Now put your hands up and start talking to the clearing.”

  “No fellas, this one’s mine,” Knight said. “He has friends on the force and Tommy doesn’t want him talking to them—or anyone—ever again.”

  In the next instant something hard crashed down on Cam’s head and the world went black.

  Drea couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could barely get one foot in front of the other as the dirty cops half dragged, half marched her through the wooded park to the clearing where it looked like most of the Harbor City Police Department had gathered.

  “I’m going to tell them everything,” she screamed.

  “Go ahead. Who’s going to believe you?” One of the dirty officers asked, chuckling. “You’re the lipstick murderer.”

  The helicopter hovering overhead turned the dirt underneath her feet into a whirlwind, and she had to squint and shield her eyes from the flying particles pelting her face. The whirling blades shoved the air against her hard and forced the breath in her lungs as a cold panic poured down her spine. If she didn’t get help, Cam was dead. She twisted in the cop’s grip, pulling against his hold.

  “Stop fighting or you won’t like what happens next.” The cop twisted her arm tight behind her back angling it upward and placed zip ties around her wrists.

  White-hot pain streaked through her arm, but she couldn’t give up. She had to break free. Fighting like her life—no Cam’s life—depended on it; she blocked out the agony and dug her feet into the ground. It didn’t make a difference.

  “Help. He needs help,” she cried out to
the crowd of Harbor City’s finest watching her being yanked toward the patrol car waiting to take her to the station. “He’s out there with one of Diamond Tommy’s thugs! He’s going to kill him.”

  Reggie. Cam’s friend. He’d help. She just had to find him. Scanning the crowd of unfriendly faces she looked for him. The one who would help. “I need to talk to Detective Reggie Watts,” she hollered.

  “He’ll be waiting for you down at the station,” the cop covered Drea’s head so she wouldn’t bump it against the patrol car’s door and shoved her in. “That’s assuming you make it that far alive.” He slammed the door shut before she’d even settled back against the seat.

  Her fault. Cam was going to die and it was her fault. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And he’d known. The moment he promised her she’d never have to worry about him again, he’d known both of them probably weren’t going to make it out of the situation alive.

  Her throat tightened and burned with regret. The whole time she’d been on the sneak with Cam, all she’d cared about was what everyone else would think about her if they knew. What would they say about her personal life and all the other negative bullshit that came with hooking up with the Don Juan of Harbor City? And all he’d cared about was her. She’d been a selfish bitch, and now he would pay the price. After the fallout from her parents, she’d thought airing out all her dirty laundry for the world to pick apart was the worst that could happen. Her chin quivered, and tears gathered in her eyes. She’d been so fucking wrong she couldn’t even see right from the backseat of the police cruiser she was sitting in.

  In the air conditioned silence, she clamped her jaw tight, but she couldn’t stop what came next. She watched herself in the rearview mirror as the fat tears fell steadily down her cheeks and left thick lines of black mascara in their wake. It didn’t matter anyway. Everything had gone to shit, and no amount of lipstick or eyeliner or blush would make it better.

  Cam jerked upright and blinked the world into focus. Drea. The cops. Knight. He bounded to his feet, ignoring as much as possible the nausea and wavy vision that accompanied the move. He had to get Drea. He spun around. Gone. She was gone and the park was silent. Completing the circle he came face to face with Knight’s too-bright gaze. The psycho had the death scent.