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  Cameron’s Contract

  An Enthrall Novella

  by

  Vanessa Fewings

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Advertencia Antipirateria del FBI: La reproducción o distribución no autorizada de una obra protegida por derechos de autor es ilegal. La infracción criminal de los derechos de autor, incluyendo la infracción sin lucro monetario, es investigada por el FBI y es castigable con pena de hasta cinco años en prisión federal y una multa de $250,000.

  Cameron’s Contract

  Copyright © 2015 Vanessa Fewings

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Cover design by VMK

  Cover photo is by Zigroup-Creations from Shutterstock

  Book formatted and edited by Louise Bohmer:

  http://www.louisebohmer.com/site/freelance/

  Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9965014-7-7

  Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9912046-6-3

  DEDICATION

  For Louise Bohmer, my wonderful editor, and for Mary, Debbie, and Diane.

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  AUTHOR BIO

  “Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos.”

  I Ching

  CHAPTER 1

  DUKKHA.

  This Buddhist term loosely translates into the word suffering, a feeling of being unsettled, or off kilter.

  To be free of dukkha, one is advised to behave decently, not act on impulse, and function mindfully. The opposite of this best described me right now, with my grip tight around the Bugatti Veyron’s wheel, feeling impulsive and full of rage, with no intention of any decency.

  I was going to fucking kill someone.

  And the only way to end this suffering was to get Mia back—my lover, my beautiful, sweet submissive—who was driving my BMW ahead of us way too fast.

  Barely twenty-one, and the most beautiful woman I’d ever known, her sweet nature miraculously remained untouched despite all she’d been through.

  Shay’s focus roamed from his laptop balanced on his knees, where he tracked the car, to back on the road. His intense concentration was a change from his usual humorous self, but, as my head of security and proven techno genius, he knew I was on tilt. My woman was driving into danger, and if that small red blip was correct we were about to lose her.

  As an ex-SEAL, Shay wasn’t a stranger to all this drama, though he did squirm when our speed hit a hundred.

  I loosened my necktie, self-hate welling in my gut.

  “Which one’s the air conditioner?” Shay’s hand hovered over the dashboard. “This looks like a flight panel.”

  I turned the air up for him, and weaved around the car in front.

  My focus remained on not hitting any of the other cars, but evening traffic barely lightened up.

  A promise had been broken.

  I’d told Mia I’d protect her from the wolves and never again would anyone hurt her. Yet here she was heading into danger, willing to face off with an old enemy, and all this was to protect me. I knew this with certainty.

  It started with that sinister appearance of Adrian Herron a few days ago outside Badgley Mischka. Mia refused to talk about it. My miscalculation came in not pushing her to open up about it. Now I knew without a doubt it had been him. This bastard had murdered her mother and then left a fourteen-year-old Mia to carry the guilt. Her past had caught up and I’d not seen it coming.

  An innocent morning shift working at Charlie’s Soup Kitchen had put Mia in jeopardy, and despite having my driver Leo watch her from inside the cafeteria, and Shay’s team guarding the property from outside, Adrian’s younger brother Decker had infiltrated my charity café, cloaked as a staff member. He’d gotten to Mia, and intimidated her into silence.

  Decker Herron had snatched Mia’s collar off her, right there in Charlie’s Soup Kitchen, leaving the scar on the nape of her neck to prove it. I’d been so full of jealousy I’d missed the most importance piece of evidence. The kind that would have elicited questions and prevented Mia from ever leaving my Beverly Hills home and trying to deal with this herself. I’d believed her lie about how she’d sustained that small abrasion.

  “Let’s call it in.” Shay glanced over at me. “Please, Cam.”

  “I’m handling it—”

  “This should be me. My men—”

  “Mia is my woman—”

  “You’re too invested, Cam. You’re emotional right now. Understandably, but still. Will you please slow down!”

  “And risk losing her?”

  “It’s a good idea to turn up alive.”

  I eased up on the gas, not least because my dashboard blinked to indicate a cop car was fifty feet ahead.

  “Your team as well as Leo were meant to be watching her,” I snapped. “No one noticed Mia enter Charlie’s wearing a choker, yet when she left—”

  “We fucked up.” He tapped the laptop in frustration. “They’re meant to make a note of every detail, including what she’s wearing, incase…”

  “She goes missing?”

  “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry. Men will be fired. I can promise you that.”

  I knew what had happened.

  Leo had assumed the team outside was watching Mia, and the same went for them. After all, Leo was ex-military too. With his experience, they’d assumed an ex-marine had what it took to watch over a young woman for three hours. Or so you’d have thought.

  “I’ve let her down,” I said.

  “I take full responsibility.” He pointed at the screen. “We’re closing in on her.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Shit.”

  “She’s under a bridge.” I sounded calmer then I felt.

  Shay refreshed the screen. And then again. “There she is. We’ve got her.”

  I let out a slow, steady breath.

  “We need a gun,” I said. “Have one of your men meet us there.”

  “If she gets to that house before us, you’re not going in, Cole.”

  My jaw tensed and I ignored him.

  “She’s heading off the freeway.” He pointed. “Next exit.”

  I navigated the car across three lanes.

  “I showed Mia the address of where her collar is on my phone and she committed it to memory.”

  “She’s super smart, Shay. Everyone underestimates her. She’s gone through my entire collection of books by Joseph Campbell, and she’s currently obsessed with the work of Mil
ton Erickson.”

  I turned left onto the street and cursed when we hit a red light, willing it to change and close to running it.

  “I know you love her,” Shay said.

  Mercifully we got a green and I touched the gas, propelling us through the cross street.

  “She’s different, Shay.”

  “I know.”

  “If anything happens to her—”

  “Well we taught her a few self-defense moves back in London.”

  “That means nothing.” I gestured to the screen.

  He glanced back “Behind us. Back up.”

  I threw the Bugatti into reverse, wheels squealing as we flew backwards.

  I hit the brakes and peered over.

  The BMW was parked. Headlights off.

  Mia was gone.

  CHAPTER 2

  “WHERE THE HELL are you?” Henry’s gruff voice boomed through my phone.

  Through force of habit, Shay placed his hand on the BMW’s hood to feel for warmth.

  “Henry, where are you?” I said.

  “On the plane. You?”

  “An hour away.”

  “Where are you?”

  If I told him downtown L.A., he’d know I was close. “Can I call you back?”

  My gaze swept the small homes overshadowed by office buildings. City Hall loomed in view.

  “You’re not doing this, Cam.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I know your feelings about Cole Tea—”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Shay gestured for me to cut the call.

  “Get to New York,” I said. “I’ll catch the next flight.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I have to go—”

  “Cameron, it looks bad.”

  I followed Shay down a pathway between two houses. “Don’t lose hope, Henry.”

  The phone became muffled and I heard him talking to the pilot. My heart sunk with the realization I was letting Henry down, letting them all down.

  I should’ve been on that flight.

  “Henry, I’m as devastated as you about the business.”

  “Actions speak louder, Cam.”

  My grip tightened around my phone. “Cover for me.”

  A long silence fueled the tension.

  “Henry?”

  “I’ve got your back.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  I glanced left and right, flanked between two tall, rundown wooden fences.

  “The stewardess is giving me the stink eye.” He killed the call.

  My feet melted into the asphalt. The air thick and the threat of rain suffocated in this muggy heat. Many of the homes had bars on the windows, which didn’t bode well. Several streetlights were out.

  I ached for Mia.

  Shay held his phone out and followed the blip leading us to the collar. He looked back at the BMW and Bugatti Veyron, both self-indulgent contrasts to the cars around them.

  Damn the cars.

  Shay led the way and we continued down the alleyway. Over his shoulder, I watched that red dot. Jewelry that had put Mia in danger was ironically leading us to her now.

  “There,” I said in a rush.

  Mia was up ahead.

  She hurried toward a rundown house with bars on the windows. The shades were drawn. The lawn was long dead.

  Shay grabbed my arm. “Stay here.”

  I broke away and sprinted toward her, blood roaring in my ears, my lungs not caring if they ever filled again. Those early morning runs paid off in a way I’d never imagined.

  Mia lingered on the top step of the house. Her hand reached out to knock.

  Tearing across the lawn, it felt like it took a lifetime to reach her.

  She didn’t see me.

  I swept her up and pulled her around to the right side of the house and shoved her against the wall. My palm covered her mouth.

  Her terror showed, but recognition softened her frown. Her body trembled.

  She startled when Shay sprinted around the corner.

  “You’re probably wondering how I found you?” I whispered.

  Her gaze returned to mine and she gave a nod.

  I leaned in. “I shoved a bug up your ass when you were sleeping.” I arched an amused brow and, despite my heart still trying to force its way out, I forced a smile.

  Mia stared up at me, blinking her confusion.

  Despite this relief, my mind was ablaze with the consequences of what might have happened if she’d disappeared inside. These two men had proven their violence. It pained me to think it had been me who’d driven her here.

  “Cole,” Shay said. “What the hell was that? I’m trying to protect you here.”

  Mia squeezed her eyes shut.

  I ignored his glare and asked her, “What are you doing here?”

  Her frown deepened as she eased my hand away. “I’m taking care of it.”

  “What exactly?” snapped Shay.

  “Back off,” I told him.

  “They just want a little money,” she whispered. “They promised—”

  “You come to me with crap like this,” said Shay.

  “Mia, how can you bear to face that man after what he did to you?” I said. “To your mom?”

  “He threatened you, Cameron.” Her hand reached for her collar that was no longer there. “They swore they could ruin your reputation.”

  “They don’t have that kind of power, Mia, unless you give it to them.”

  “But—”

  “We know they have your choker.”

  She held back tears. “I’m going to get it back.”

  “Forgive me for spanking you, sweetheart,” I said. “It was unconscionable.”

  “I let him walk away with your beautiful choker.”

  “You’re more important. Don’t ever forget that. Never put yourself in danger again.”

  “Adrian threatened to leak my past to the press,” she said. “Tell the world you’re dating the daughter of a drug addict.”

  “Oh, Mia. What would be the worst that could happen if that came out?”

  “They told me it would affect Cole Tea.”

  I glanced over at Shay.

  We both knew Cole Tea didn’t need any help nose-diving into history.

  Mia wrapped her fingers around my hand. “They warned me if I told you they’d contact the press.”

  “Did Decker grab your collar off you this morning?” asked Shay.

  She gave a nod, and she looked so worn down, so fragile.

  “I’m sorry I shouted at you—” My arm shot up to protect her from the blur of movement to our left.

  It was Emma, from Shay’s security team. We’d witness firsthand what she was capable of outside The Manor a few days ago. Her Ronda Rousey moves were legendary. Emma had taken down my attacker so quickly no one had seen a thing until the man was lying on the floor.

  She handed Shay a gun and he tucked it inside his jacket. A few maneuvers later and he’d also hooked up a wire beneath his shirt, with Emma’s help.

  I turned to face Mia. “Stay with Emma.”

  “Let me talk to him,” she said.

  Shay scoffed at that and tucked whatever else Emma had handed him into his jacket pocket.

  “I have to deal with this,” said Mia. “This is my problem.”

  “No, Mia,” I said calmly. “They want me. And they’ve come after me through you. I’m going to make it go away.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to safety.

  I forced her to sit in the car, where she’d be safe with Emma and two of Shay’s guards watching over her. They’d turned up fast, making this an impressive display of his security detail. All this apparently went on in the background, and I paid Shay well not to see it.

  With Mia calmed in the back of the Cadillac Escalade, Shay and I returned to the Herron’s front door.

  “Sure you want to do this?” he said.

  I held back on this urge to kick it down. Shay had
to see me calm, collected, ready to deal with them and not escalate the situation.

  “Take off your tie,” he said. “Less formal.”

  After pulling it from my neck, I tucked it into my pocket.

  Shay knocked.

  Fierce barking came from inside, chilling my veins and setting off my adrenaline.

  Shay casually sprinkled dark crumbs along the doorstep and dropped more along the threshold.

  He met my gaze. “Emma checked the pet registry on the way here.” He brushed his hands together to get rid of the rest. “Dog food.”

  I admired his forethought. “What kind?”

  “Kibbles ’n’ Bits.”

  “I meant the dog.”

  He gave a shrug. “Rottweiler.”

  CHAPTER 3

  THE PUNGENT SMELL hit us.

  Dog urine and burned food and something else—cigarettes and stale beer. A TV blared from the living room, raising the stakes to the drama.

  Decker stood in the open doorway staring us down.

  He’d aged from his driving license photo taken five years ago. A crooked life hadn’t been kind to him. He looked older than twenty-six. His boxer shorts and vest needed a wash. He hadn’t shaved in a while, or combed his hair.

  If my ex-girlfriend McKenzie saw this tattooed stud now, the one everyone supposedly swooned over at Charlie’s, she’d have shut her damned mouth and run. To think I’d been fretting over this mystery man being a threat.