Now he had to deal with the man. He wasn't afraid of big hands and hard eyes. Wouldn't—couldn't—let himself be afraid. He wouldn't care that they were going to kick him loose, toss him back like one of the runt fish Ethan pulled out of the bay.
He could take care of himself. He wasn't worried.
His heart scrambled in his chest like a mouse in a cage.
"What?" The single word was ripe with defiance and challenge. Seth stood, his legs locked, and waited for a reaction.
Cam only continued to frown and sip his doctored coffee. With one hand, he absently stroked the puppy, who was trying valiantly to climb into his lap. He saw a scrawny boy wearing jeans still stiff and obviously new, a screw-you sneer, and Ray Quinn's eyes. "Sit down."
"I can stand."
"I didn't ask you what you could do, I told you to sit down."
On cue, Foolish obediently plopped his fat butt on the floor and grinned. But boy and man stared at each other. The boy gave way first. It was the quick jerk of the shoulders that had Cam setting his mug down with a click. It was a Quinn gesture, through and through. Cam took a moment to settle, tried to gather his thoughts. But they remained scattered and elusive. What the hell was he supposed to say to the boy?
"You get anything to eat?"
Seth watched him warily from under girlishly thick lashes. "Yeah, there was stuff."
"Ah, Ray, did he talk to you about… things. Plans for you?"
The shoulders jerked again. "I don't know."
"He was working on adopting you, making it legal. You knew about that."
"He's dead."
"Yeah." Cam picked up his coffee again, let the pain roll through. "He's dead."
"I'm going to Florida," Seth burst out as the idea slammed into his mind. Cam sipped coffee, angled his head as if mildly interested. "Oh, yeah?"
"I got some money. I figured I'd leave in the morning, catch a bus south. You can't stop me."
"Sure I can." More comfortable now, Cam leaned back in his chair. "I'm bigger than you. What do you plan to do in Florida?"
"I can get work. I can do lots of things."
"Pick some pockets, sleep on the beach."
"Maybe."
Cam nodded. That had been his plan when his destination had been Mexico. For the first time he thought he might be able to connect with the boy after all. "I guess you can't drive yet."
"I could if I had to."
"Harder to boost a car these days unless you've got some experience. And you need to be mobile to keep ahead of the cops. Florida's a bad idea."
"That's where I'm going." Seth set his jaw.
"No, it isn't."
"You're not sending me back." Seth lurched up from the chair, his thin frame vibrating with fear and rage. The sudden move and shout sent the puppy racing fearfully from the room. "You got no hold over me, you can't make me go back."
"Back where?"
"To her. I'll go right now. I'll get my stuff and I'm gone. And if you think you can stop me, you're full of shit."
Cam recognized the stance—braced for a blow but ready to fight back. "She knock you around?"
"That's none of your f**king business."
"Ray made it my f**king business. You head for the door," he added as Seth shifted to the balls of his feet, "I'll just haul you back." Cam only sighed when Seth made his dash. Even as he caught him three feet before the front door, he had to give Seth credit for speed. And when he caught the boy around the waist, took the backhanded fist on his already tender jaw, he gave him credit for strength.
"Get your goddamn hands off me, you son of a bitch. I'll kill you if you touch me." Grimly, Cam dragged Seth into the living room, pushed him into a chair, and held him there with their faces close. If it had just been anger he saw in the boy's eyes, or defiance, he wouldn't have cared. But what he saw was raw terror.
"You got balls, kid. Now try to develop some brains to go with them. If I want sex, I want a woman. Understand me?"
He couldn't speak. All he'd known when that hard, muscled arm had wrapped around him was that this time he wouldn't be able to escape. This time he wouldn't be able to fight free and run.
"There's nobody here who's going to touch you like that. Ever." Without realizing it, Cam had gentled his voice. His eyes remained dark, but the hardness was gone. "If I lay hands on you, the worst it means is I might try to knock some sense into you. You got that?"
"I don't want you to touch me," Seth managed. His breath was gone. Panic sweat slicked his skin like oil. "I don't like being touched."
"Okay, fine. You sit where I put you." Cam eased back, then pulled over a footstool and sat. Since Foolish was now shivering in terror, Cam plucked him up and dumped him in Seth's lap. "We got a problem," Cam began, and prayed for inspiration on how to handle it. "I can't watch you twenty-four hours a day. And if I could, I'm damned if I would. You take off for Florida, I'm going to have to go find you and haul you back. That's really going to piss me off."
Because the dog was there, Seth stroked him, gaining comfort while giving it. "What do you care where I go?''
"I can't say I do. But Ray did. So you're going to have to stay."
"Stay?" It was an option Seth had never considered. Certainly hadn't allowed himself to believe. "Here?
When you sell the house—"
"Who's selling the house?"
"I—" Seth broke off, decided he was saying too much. "People figured you would."
"People figured wrong. Nobody's selling this house." It surprised Cam just how firm his feelings were on that particular point. "I don't know how we're going to manage it yet. I'm still working on that. But in the meantime, you'd better get this into your head. You're staying put." Which meant, Cam realized with a jolt, so was he.
It appeared his luck was still running bad.
"We're stuck with each other, kid, for the next little while."
Chapter Three
Cam figured this hadto be the weirdest week of his life. He should have been in Italy, prepping for the motocross he'd planned to treat himself to. Most of his clothes and his boat were in Monte Carlo, his car was in Nice, his motorcycle in Rome.
He could take care of himself. He wasn't worried.
His heart scrambled in his chest like a mouse in a cage.
"What?" The single word was ripe with defiance and challenge. Seth stood, his legs locked, and waited for a reaction.
Cam only continued to frown and sip his doctored coffee. With one hand, he absently stroked the puppy, who was trying valiantly to climb into his lap. He saw a scrawny boy wearing jeans still stiff and obviously new, a screw-you sneer, and Ray Quinn's eyes. "Sit down."
"I can stand."
"I didn't ask you what you could do, I told you to sit down."
On cue, Foolish obediently plopped his fat butt on the floor and grinned. But boy and man stared at each other. The boy gave way first. It was the quick jerk of the shoulders that had Cam setting his mug down with a click. It was a Quinn gesture, through and through. Cam took a moment to settle, tried to gather his thoughts. But they remained scattered and elusive. What the hell was he supposed to say to the boy?
"You get anything to eat?"
Seth watched him warily from under girlishly thick lashes. "Yeah, there was stuff."
"Ah, Ray, did he talk to you about… things. Plans for you?"
The shoulders jerked again. "I don't know."
"He was working on adopting you, making it legal. You knew about that."
"He's dead."
"Yeah." Cam picked up his coffee again, let the pain roll through. "He's dead."
"I'm going to Florida," Seth burst out as the idea slammed into his mind. Cam sipped coffee, angled his head as if mildly interested. "Oh, yeah?"
"I got some money. I figured I'd leave in the morning, catch a bus south. You can't stop me."
"Sure I can." More comfortable now, Cam leaned back in his chair. "I'm bigger than you. What do you plan to do in Florida?"
"I can get work. I can do lots of things."
"Pick some pockets, sleep on the beach."
"Maybe."
Cam nodded. That had been his plan when his destination had been Mexico. For the first time he thought he might be able to connect with the boy after all. "I guess you can't drive yet."
"I could if I had to."
"Harder to boost a car these days unless you've got some experience. And you need to be mobile to keep ahead of the cops. Florida's a bad idea."
"That's where I'm going." Seth set his jaw.
"No, it isn't."
"You're not sending me back." Seth lurched up from the chair, his thin frame vibrating with fear and rage. The sudden move and shout sent the puppy racing fearfully from the room. "You got no hold over me, you can't make me go back."
"Back where?"
"To her. I'll go right now. I'll get my stuff and I'm gone. And if you think you can stop me, you're full of shit."
Cam recognized the stance—braced for a blow but ready to fight back. "She knock you around?"
"That's none of your f**king business."
"Ray made it my f**king business. You head for the door," he added as Seth shifted to the balls of his feet, "I'll just haul you back." Cam only sighed when Seth made his dash. Even as he caught him three feet before the front door, he had to give Seth credit for speed. And when he caught the boy around the waist, took the backhanded fist on his already tender jaw, he gave him credit for strength.
"Get your goddamn hands off me, you son of a bitch. I'll kill you if you touch me." Grimly, Cam dragged Seth into the living room, pushed him into a chair, and held him there with their faces close. If it had just been anger he saw in the boy's eyes, or defiance, he wouldn't have cared. But what he saw was raw terror.
"You got balls, kid. Now try to develop some brains to go with them. If I want sex, I want a woman. Understand me?"
He couldn't speak. All he'd known when that hard, muscled arm had wrapped around him was that this time he wouldn't be able to escape. This time he wouldn't be able to fight free and run.
"There's nobody here who's going to touch you like that. Ever." Without realizing it, Cam had gentled his voice. His eyes remained dark, but the hardness was gone. "If I lay hands on you, the worst it means is I might try to knock some sense into you. You got that?"
"I don't want you to touch me," Seth managed. His breath was gone. Panic sweat slicked his skin like oil. "I don't like being touched."
"Okay, fine. You sit where I put you." Cam eased back, then pulled over a footstool and sat. Since Foolish was now shivering in terror, Cam plucked him up and dumped him in Seth's lap. "We got a problem," Cam began, and prayed for inspiration on how to handle it. "I can't watch you twenty-four hours a day. And if I could, I'm damned if I would. You take off for Florida, I'm going to have to go find you and haul you back. That's really going to piss me off."
Because the dog was there, Seth stroked him, gaining comfort while giving it. "What do you care where I go?''
"I can't say I do. But Ray did. So you're going to have to stay."
"Stay?" It was an option Seth had never considered. Certainly hadn't allowed himself to believe. "Here?
When you sell the house—"
"Who's selling the house?"
"I—" Seth broke off, decided he was saying too much. "People figured you would."
"People figured wrong. Nobody's selling this house." It surprised Cam just how firm his feelings were on that particular point. "I don't know how we're going to manage it yet. I'm still working on that. But in the meantime, you'd better get this into your head. You're staying put." Which meant, Cam realized with a jolt, so was he.
It appeared his luck was still running bad.
"We're stuck with each other, kid, for the next little while."
Chapter Three
Cam figured this hadto be the weirdest week of his life. He should have been in Italy, prepping for the motocross he'd planned to treat himself to. Most of his clothes and his boat were in Monte Carlo, his car was in Nice, his motorcycle in Rome.
