His Lethal Love

Present.

Camille POV.

"Scott!" I gasped to see him in the room as he stood like a statue, gazing at me down. "How did you..." I glanced past him at the window, which was opened. He must have sneaked through the window. "Shocked?" he scoffed, stepping toward me. "Why are you avoiding me, Cam?" I cringed when he came closer to me. "Answer me?"

"You have been busy these days and I..." I bit into my lower lip, searching for the right words.

"This is not what I am asking," he said coldly. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"Scott..." I glanced at the door. "Conan will hear us. You must go now."

"I came here for a talk," he said, gritting his teeth. "I'm here for you."

"I don't want to talk. Now leave!" I hissed and sprang to my feet, glaring into his eyes. "Get the hell away from here before Conan sees us together."

"So what?" He growled, coming even closer to me and making me step back. "So what if he sees us, Cam?"

"I don't want him to find you here." I tried to stop my rapid heartbeat when he hovered over me. He looked so intimidating at that time.

"Really?" he sneered, turning around and heading toward the door. "Let me call him first before we start our conversation."

"Scott, no!" I rushed to him and blocked his way. "Please, don't do this..."

"Cam, get out of my way." He pushed me aside gently and grabbed the knob of the door and was ready to open it.

"Scott!" I grabbed his hand before snatching it away from the knob. "Why can't you see my happiness? I've come here for some peace, and that too you're taking away from me."

He sighed and turned to me, staring into my eyes and I saw hurt. "I'm an asshole!" He cursed. "Fucking asshole."

"Whatever is going on between us, don't involve Conan."

"But he is coming between us. He just brought you here..." he said sharply and his eyes burning with anger. "I want to talk to you, Cam." I said nothing as he continued, "I want to know about that night. I want to know everything about it." "What night are you talking about?" I pretended to be confused, which irritated him even more.

"The night when we..." he hesitated. "I want to know the truth, Cam." He grabbed my shoulders, his gaze softened as he looked into my eyes. "The night we were having sex and you suddenly..."

"I don't want to talk about that night." I shook away his hands and turned around so that he couldn't see my eyes. I felt myself shaking from inside as I clenched my hands into tight fists to stop them from trembling. "Just go, Scott." "I said I want to know the truth, Cam," he said with determination.

I squeezed my eyes, counting my breaths and wishing my panic would not rise. The more he asked, the more panicked I would get.

"I have seen it with my own eyes, Cam," he said. "It was in there."

"What was in there?" I asked without turning to him.

"Terror," he whispered. "When I entered you, you were traumatized. You just... I felt like you were..." his voice shook as he was speaking. "Fuck! I can't think about that, Cam. I know I'm overthinking. I just can't think you were..." Suddenly, my back shook when I broke into a deep cry. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep my voice, but it didn't work.

He heard me.

"Cam..." Scott came in front of me and grabbed me by my shoulders gently. "Is it true?" There was fright in his voice. When I didn't speak. "Cam? Jesus Christ!"

"I don't want..." I shook my head. "Stop it now!"

"Cam..." I watched Scott's pained expression as he spoke softly, his breath choking as he made me look at him. "I haven't slept since that night. I can't even think about it. Just tell me I'm overthinking. Just tell me I am thinking wrong... I... I... please, Cam." When I said nothing, he sighed and sat me on the bed before pouring water into a glass and handing it to me. "I won't leave unless you tell me the truth. I told you I'm here for you and I'm here for the truth."

"Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom." I stood up and rushed to the bathroom, but he caught my hand and stopped me.

"You're a fucking coward, Cam. You're even scared to tell me the truth."

I spun around, meeting his gaze bravely. "Trust me, you won't be able to handle it once I tell you."

"Tell me now," he whispered.

"You don't trust me and you'll never trust me."

"Tell me, damn it!" He growled, making me retreat. "Just tell me who he was?"

"He is your br..."

"Camille!!!" Conan knocked on the door harder.

"Leave!" I shoved Scott toward the window. "Fast!"

"I can't ride my bike," he said quietly.

"Did you come by bike?" I asked.

"Yeah, I got into an accident." He raised his hand and showed me his hand, which was wrapped in cotton fabric. It was spotted with blood.

"Camille!!" Conan slammed the door harder. "Open the damn door!"

I eyed Scott's wounded hand and my heart clenched. A small part of me wanted to keep him to myself, but the rest didn't want him. "Go away!" I hissed, pushing him toward the window roughly.

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"I want the truth, Cam. Tell me his name." There was fury and desperation in his eyes.

I let out a shaky breath and shook my head. "Go away, please."

"Do you want me to go?" he asked, gazing at me.

"Yes, leave."

"I'll come for the truth again, Cam." He smiled sadly and jumped off the window.

I shut the window and walked to the door. Letting out a long breath, I opened my eyes and stared at Conan, who seemed worried.

"Why were you crying?" he rasped, scanning the room. "I heard you crying."

"It was a nightmare." I hesitated, glancing at the window and worrying about Scott.

How would he ride?

"Is everything okay?" Conan stepped up to me, cupping my face. "I know you are not okay, Cami."

"I'm okay, Conan." I sniffed, lowering my gaze. I didn't want him to comfort me again. I just hated when he saw me with a broken toy as he treated me like one. "I'm staying with you," he said firmly, his jaw flexing.

"No, Conan..." Before I could finish, he shook his head and held my hand gently, leading me to the bed. He sat me down before sitting beside me.

"I want to stay with you whether you like it or not." He leaned my head against his chest as he stroked my hair. "You know how worried I was when you were not opening the door."

I swallowed down guilt as I closed my eyes, inhaling his masculine smell. He took a bath because he was smelling like body wash and his hair was damp. Our fingers intertwined as I gazed at them.

"Conan." I sighed heavily. I should tell him about Scott because I hated to lie to him. He was so kind to me and I kept him in the dark.

"Yes."

"It was Scott, not nightmares."

He released a sharp breath as his body tensed. He didn't speak for a while but after a few minutes he whispered, "I knew that and I was waiting for you to tell me the truth." I peered up at him. "I saw his bike and blood and then I realized he was there."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked with irritation.

"You should have told me earlier," he said with a hint of annoyance.

"I thought you would get mad," I mumbled, lowering my gaze. "I didn't want to get hurt."

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"You hurt me anyway."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He ordered. "I know it takes a lot of time to get rid of that bastard, but I swear I will make you forget him, Cami."

"I hope you will..." I broke into a laugh.

****

I was making sandwiches and pancakes for breakfast while Conan was working on the radio. It was Sunday, and we were planning to go hunting in the forest. He looked sexy, shirtless. He was shirtless because I was wearing his shirt. "You look sexy as hell," Conan grinned, eyeing my legs. "And your legs. Damn, they are just so gorgeous.'

"Now, shut it and take off your eyes, and do your work." I laughed while putting cheese slices in the sandwich.

"I'll make coffee," he said, turning on the radio and putting it on the kitchen counter.

"My grandma taught me how to make the most delicious coffee," Conan said while grabbing a coffee machine.

"All the work is done by machine. What exactly did she teach you?" I laughed.

"Well, she taught me how much water to add to coffee." Conan grabbed a container of coffee and added two spoons to the filter before pouring water. Plugging the coffee maker he turned it on.

'Breaking news: The popular star and richest director Scott Martinez fell off a bike late at night and was injured badly...'

I froze when I heard the radio and looked at Conan, who was already staring at me.

"Did she say, Scott?" I swallowed.

"She said Scott," Conan confirmed.

"He was injured when I told him to leave." My voice cracked as tears gathered in my eyes. "He told me he couldn't ride a bike, but I forced him to..."

"No, it's not your fault," he said quickly. "Don't blame yourself."

"Can you call Kat?"

"Yeah, sure." He reached into his pocket and called Kat. "Fuck! He is not receiving my call."

"We need to leave, Conan." I grabbed the kitchen counter, trying to stop myself from shaking.