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Now all she could do was sit curled up on the massive couch in Patrick’s living room, while her mind was doing cartwheels, trying to make sense of what Patrick had told her. Why had Cameron faked his own death? Or was it possible that it was just a case of mistaken identity, and Cameron didn’t even know that somebody had died in a car crash and been mistakenly identified as him? No, no, that would make no sense. Surely, the police would have been able to identify his car, which would have led them to speak to the Gallagher family and, hence, to a dentist who would have provided Cameron’s dental records.

Was it possible that Cameron was hiding something from his Mafia family? Had he tried to leave them to get out of their criminal enterprise, and had therefore faked his death, so he could disappear? But then why stay in San Francisco, so close to where his family lived?

Wouldn’t he have gone far away so there was no possibility of a chance encounter?

Her head was spinning. The more she thought about it, the more she was confused. In any case, it didn’t matter why he’d faked his own death, he was still a dangerous man, and he’d hurt her. Nothing could ever change that. There was no excuse for what he’d done.

Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it from the pocket of her yoga pants. The number was a San Francisco number, but she didn’t recognize it. Maybe it was somebody from Scanguards. Perhaps Buffy had gotten the results of her blood test back. She didn’t want to miss the call and pressed answer.

“Yes?”

“Fallon.”

The male voice sent a shockwave through her; fear and anxiety collided inside her, making her shoot up from her position as if to ready herself for a quick escape.

A breath rushed from her lungs. “Cameron.”

Her hand holding the phone to her ear trembled.

“You’ve disappointed me, Fallon,” he said, his voice seemingly calm, though she could hear the dangerous undertone in it that indicated that he was angry, furious in fact.

Her lips trembled as she tried to find her voice, but he was faster.

“But I’ll forgive you. After all, you’ll need me. And I’m not one to hold a grudge.”

She wanted to scoff, but her throat was as dry as the Sahara, and no sound came over her lips.

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. After tonight, you’ll understand. You’ll be mine.”

Finally, she found her voice again. “I’ll never be yours! Leave me alone! There’s nothing left between us.”

“On the contrary. You and I, we belong together. We will be one. You’ll accept it soon enough.”

“Never!” she ground out. “You really think I’d wanna be involved with you again? You’re cruel and brutal, and dangerous. No, I don’t wanna have any ties to you or your Mafia family.”

“Mafia? You think we’re the Mafia?”

He let out a cold laugh, and the sound penetrated every cell in her body.

“Stop denying it!”

“You’re so wrong. No matter. Tonight, you’ll find out the truth. Wait and—”

“Fuck you, Cameron!” She pressed the end call button, cutting him off, then silenced her phone and tossed it on the couch, away from her, as if that would remove the threats Cameron had issued.

25

“He confirmed it?” Patrick asked, looking at Ryder.

They were in the command center at HQ, where several of his colleagues were working on digging up more about Cameron to find evidence that he was responsible for the Presidio murder, and the two supposed animal attacks in Marin County.

Ryder nodded. “I used a little persuasion, but, yes, Hank confirmed that the night they all went out for drinks to celebrate the NIH grant, Cameron came to his place and beat the living daylights out of him.”

“Alright, that establishes that he’s violent.” Not that he really needed that confirmation. But then, he was biased. He believed Fallon and knew that her fear of Cameron was fully justified.

From behind him, Eddie called out, “Hey, I’ve got a positive ID from one of the security cameras on Broadway.”

Patrick turned on his heel and bridged the distance with two large steps. He looked past Eddie’s shoulder to the monitor in front of him.


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