Page 2

Lost in Bliss Page 2

by Sophie Oak


Sophie Oak

Cam stopped, pulled roughly from his memory. His feet had

known which way to go. He was standing in front of the doors that led

to the lobby. Rafe put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.

“I’ve been yelling like an idiot for two minutes. Why didn’t you

stop?”

Cam shrugged, unwilling to betray his emotional state. He let his

face go blank. He’d perfected it long ago so his father wouldn’t gain

any satisfaction from knowing how deeply his insults cut. He just

never really thought he would have to go there with Rafe. “I didn’t

have anything to say.”

Rafe scrubbed a hand through his perfectly cut pitch-black hair.

“That’s bullshit, Cam. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have

something to say.” He glanced down at his watch. “I know you’re

pissed at me. I would be pissed at me, too, but I have my reasons.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Cam asked the question as if the

answer didn’t have the ability to rip his insides out. He also asked it as though he would actually believe any answer that came out of Rafe’s

mouth.

“No.”

Well, at least the asshole was honest. “Then we’re done here. I’ll

see you in the next lifetime, my brother.”

“Stop. Come on, Cam. You know we need to talk. Just let me

explain, and then if you don’t want to talk to me, we can be done. I

just need five minutes, but I have to finish that briefing. I can meet

you at McKay’s at four, okay?” Rafe was already backing up, his five

hundred dollar shoes squeaking against the marbled floor.

McKay’s Pub. They had spent a lot of nights unwinding at

McKay’s. For a while it had been their favorite hangout. Cam had

spent every night there after work. They had joked that there was a

booth with their names on it. He and Rafe had taken turns sitting

beside Laura while they discussed the work day. “Sure. Four

o’clock.”

Rafe smiled. “Four o’clock. I’ll be there.”

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15

But Cam wouldn’t. He waved at Rafe and then walked out the

door, hopped on his bike, and motored right past the bar where he was

supposed to give his ex-partner five minutes of his time. He wouldn’t

waste another second.

When he pulled into his rathole of an apartment complex, he

carefully unfolded the newspaper clipping he’d printed from the

Internet . Billionaire Artist’s Bride-to-Be. It was an article featuring someone named Jennifer Waters and her spectacular wedding plans.

The picture was of the bride-to-be and her bridesmaids. There were

five other women in the picture, but Cam’s eyes focused on one. She

stood toward the back as though she didn’t really want to be in the

photo, but a smiling red-haired woman held her hand, dragging her in.

Her lips quirked up in a secretive smile. She looked so different with

her hair down and very little makeup on her face. She looked vibrant

and happy and so sweet he could eat her alive.

Laura Rosen.

The only woman he ever loved.

“I’m coming for you, baby.” He hopped off his bike and jogged to

his apartment, eager to get the hell out of Dodge.

* * * *

Rafael Kincaid pulled his Benz into the small parking lot of the

Hampton Manor Homes and felt a bit of his rage morph into guilt.

He’d been furious when he realized Cam had stood him up. Rafe had

rushed through the meeting, anxious to talk to Cam, to clear the air

between them, and that asshole had just gone home. He’d gone home

to a dilapidated fourplex that Rafe wouldn’t have let a dog live in.

Cam lived here?

Damn it, he should have known. Cam had sent him an e-mail with

his new address, but Rafe had been far too busy to do what he should

have done. He should have helped him move. He should have

checked this place out. He slid out of his car, which might be worth

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more than the entire small building. There were four units, and at least three of them had to be housing meth labs. What the hell was Cam

doing here?

Spending every dime he has looking for your woman.

It was obvious to Rafe that Cam had spent all of his money on the

computer equipment he needed to perfect his facial recognition

software. Cam had given up comfort and safety.

Rafe scrubbed a hand across his face and felt years older than

thirty-four. He could swear he’d aged twenty years since the night

Laura Rosen had been captured by the Marquis de Sade. The minute

he’d realized she was gone, his soul had become something older,

heavier, than it had been before. Guilt weighed on him. Now he felt

its press as he walked up the steps that led to Cam’s “home.”

Damn it. Why hadn’t Cam told him he needed money? Rafe

would have happily written him a check.

He rapped his knuckles across the peeling paint on the door.

“Cam? Cam, let me in. I’m not going away, and I can see that your

bike is parked outside. I know you’re in there.”

“And I should care about that, why?” Cam shouted it through the

door.

“Because I’ll tell you what you want to know. I brought the files

and everything.” Rafe felt infinitely weary. He’d wanted to avoid

talking to Cam about this because he didn’t need anything else

tugging at his conscience.

“I don’t want to know anything. I’m good. You could get in some

serious trouble for sharing that file with me. I hope you catch the

bastard.”

Rafe was about to protest, to start to coax Cam out of his shell.

He’d known Cam for years. When Cam felt slighted, he could hold on

to it like a baby clutching a prized toy. But he was also tenacious as a pit bull. Cam should be drooling over new information about the man

they had been hunting for years.

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17

Four years before, they had made a deal. It had been almost a year

after Laura had walked out of her hospital room leaving behind

nothing but a note that told them a simple goodbye. They had killed

themselves, splitting their time between trying to catch the Marquis de

Sade and trying to track their wayward lover. Neither one of them had

had a decent night’s sleep. It had been time to make a deal. Rafe

stayed on at the FBI to keep on top of the case, and Cam had devoted

himself to finding Laura. Cam had started a private investigations

business, but it was almost entirely funded by Rafe. Cam had also

started writing a software program that scanned the Internet not only

searching for any mention of her name, but more importantly, looking

for her face.

Cameron Briggs was not a man who gave up. Unless he’d found a

much bigger prize.

“You motherfucker, you found her.” Rafe pounded on the door.

Just like that, his guilt raged into red-hot jealousy. Rafe was not about to let Cam waltz away with information on Laura. Laura was his,

damn it. His.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rafe heard the unspoken “su
cker” in Cam’s shouted words. He

lifted his leg and gave the piece-of-shit door separating him from his

ex-partner a well-placed kick. The door itself held, but it cracked up

the middle. Cam stared at him through his now ruined door.

“You’re an asshole, and you’re replacing that door.” Cam reached

out, and after two loud clicks, the door swung open.

Rafe wasn’t about to feel bad about the door. “Where is she?”

Cam’s mouth became a flat, stubborn line. A long huff of breath

came out of his chest, and he pointed to a table in the tiny kitchen.

“Colorado.”

There was a printout of a newspaper article on the table. It was a

copy of an article from the Lifestyle section of a Denver newspaper.

He couldn’t miss her even though she was surrounded by other

women. Laura Rosen. He could still remember the day she’d walked

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into the Bureau. He’d known the moment he’d laid eyes on her that

she was the one.

Unfortunately, Cam had felt the same way.

Unfortunately? Was it really so bad? At the time, it had felt that way. At the time, all he could think about was how enjoying a three-way with his partner and his soul mate would affect his career. There

wasn’t a single sitting Bureau chief openly involved in a polyamorous

relationship. At the time, he’d been willing to fight his best friend

over her. At the time, he’d been willing to throw her under a bus to

get ahead. Oh, he’d told himself he was helping her, but he was really

only thinking of himself.

Yep. The guilt was back.

“She’s calling herself Laura Niles. Why does Niles sound

familiar?” Rafe asked, his finger tracing over the picture. He wanted

to touch her, to assure himself that she was real and alive and whole.

“Her grandfather’s name was Niles. Niles Rosen. She loved that

old man.” Cam stood at his side, his arms crossed over his chest.

Rafe looked at the man he’d once been closer to than his own

brother. Cam looked tired. There was a set to his shoulders that Rafe

recognized as defensiveness. Cam stood there in the tiny piece-of-

crap kitchen, a big, unmoving block of wood.

Cam had come to the office to tell Rafe he’d found Laura. He’d

run through the building with this printout in his hand, and when he’d

found Rafe, he’d walked in on what Cam had to assume was a

betrayal of the worst kind. No wonder Cam hadn’t met him at the pub.

He had to play this carefully if he didn’t want to get his ass

kicked.

“Stefan Talbot.” Rafe whistled as he glanced over the article.

“Who the fuck is Stefan Talbot?”

Rafe felt a grin come and go. That was Cam. Despite the fact that

he was built like a linebacker, Cam was a nerd. He was far more into

his computers and watching bad sci-fi movies than art. And Cam

couldn’t care less about society and powerful people. “He’s an artist.

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19

My mother has one of his works. He’s very reclusive. Supposedly he

lives in a weird little town in Colorado. And, according to this, Laura

is in his wedding party.”

“What the hell is she doing in some backwater small town?” Cam

asked. His shoulders had relaxed slightly as he stared at the photo.

“Hiding. From the Marquis de Sade. From the Bureau. From us.”

Laura had a lot to run from. “But if he’s back, then he could have seen

this, too.”

“Yeah, nice to fill me in on that.” Cam’s eyes had sunken back

into his face as though retreating. “I must have missed the message

you left. You know how it is when your social life is as active as mine

is. Oh, wait. That’s you. So, you too busy kissing the brass’s ass to

give an old friend a call?”

Cam was firmly pushing a whole bunch of Rafe’s buttons. “Cam,

please hear me out.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you can say that would

make me care.”

How did he put this? Rafe had been thinking about this every

minute since last Tuesday when he’d gotten word of the new victim.

“I’m going to be flat honest with you. We found the body a couple of

days ago. We’ve kept it very quiet. I was worried about you. I

remember what happened the last time you were on this case. I

remember the drinking and the fights. I remember you nearly died on

that damn bike. When we found that girl, do you know what I saw

when I looked down at her? I saw you. I saw you falling into bad

habits and getting your ass killed.”

“And that would matter to you?”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? The asshole

wouldn’t give him an inch. “I give a shit if you die, Cam. You

couldn’t handle it the first time. I wasn’t about to send you down that

path again.”

“I couldn’t handle it?” The words came out clipped, each bitten

off through clenched teeth.

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Rafe had tried to give him an easy way out. Cam was too damn

stupid to take it. “You know you couldn’t. You punched another

special agent in the middle of a briefing. You wrecked your bike

twice. You got arrested for public intoxication. I’m not bailing your

ass out again.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” Rafe gestured around the room

that seemed to serve as Cam’s kitchen, office, and bedroom. The

whole place was covered in computer equipment. Wires and cords ran

along the floor like thick vines. There was no rhyme or reason or

organization to the place. Rafe wouldn’t be surprised if Cam just

opened a window to pee. “You don’t want to have to ask me for

money?”

“No, I don’t. I’m sick of living off you.” Cam’s booted feet

widened to a predatory stance.

Rafe was so sick of Cam’s insecurities. He’d put up with them for

years. Rafe had never been able to convince Cam that he didn’t give a

shit that he’d grown up in a trailer park. It was Cam’s problem. Not

Rafe’s. “You weren’t living off me, you stupid, overly proud prick. It

wasn’t charity. You were working to find her. We agreed to this

deal.”

Cam’s lips curled up in a smirking approximation of a smile.

“Yeah, we agreed that you would share information with me, but you

don’t have to uphold your end of the bargain, do you? You don’t have

to share with a guy you consider your goddamn employee. That’s

why I didn’t want your money. I didn’t want to be your butt monkey

anymore. Tell me something, Rafe, you been fucking any admins with

Brad there? Brad working out as your wingman? I’ll be sure to tell

Laura when I see her that you’re fine, because you finally found a

partner you could truly love.”

Without another thought, Rafe pulled back his fist and plowed

into Cam with everything he had. Cam’s head snapped back with a

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21

crack, but his body stayed in place. Too late, Rafe remembered why

Cam had gotten
into that fight with another agent.

Cam liked it.

A feral smile crossed Cam’s face just before he reared back and

let his fist fly.

A lance of shock speared through Rafe’s gut. His breath shot out

of his body, and Rafe staggered back, hitting the wall with a thud.

Cam pressed his advantage. He landed another blow, this one an

uppercut to Rafe’s jaw. The pain exploded in Rafe’s skull, and he

fought back.

He shoved against Cam’s bulk. Did the country boy expect the

city boy to play fair? Rafe was done playing fair. It bought him

nothing with Cam. He shoved out with both hands, and Cam fell back,

stumbling over his sadly worn duffel bag.

“What were thinking, Cam? Did you already have your bags

packed when you came to see me? Do you honestly believe you can

waltz back into her life? What do you have to offer her? You going to

bring her back here?”

Cam’s leg came out, sweeping across Rafe’s ankles and knocking

him down. Cam kicked himself up, years and years of martial arts

practice turning the move into a graceful dance. Cam moved well for

a man of any size, much less for a man who weighed in at two

hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.

“And what are you going to give her? Are you going to bring her

back to your condo and turn her into some trophy for your goddamn

wall? She never meant anything to you. She was just a prize. You

only wanted her to fuck with me.” Cam stopped, his face going dumb

for a minute. “Damn it, Rafe. What the fuck are we doing? I’m…”

Whatever Cam was going to say was utterly lost on Rafe. All he

knew was they had had this fight before. He was so fucking sick of

having his money shoved back at him like it was something to be

ashamed of. Cam wielded his impoverished childhood like a sword,

and Rafe was so done with it. City boy was done taking country boy’s

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shit. With ruthless precision, he brought his foot up and kicked out.

His heel met with Cam’s cock, and Cam went down with a long,

animal-like moan of pure agony.

Rafe rolled over and shoved himself to a standing position. He

wiped the blood off his face. It was time to have a long talk with his

ex-partner. They used to be best friends, and damn, but Rafe missed