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Her expression softened with gratitude as she slumped down on the bed. “I suppose I better call Quinn.”

“I’ve already done it. You sleep.” I squeezed her shoulder as I passed and disappeared into the moisture-clouded bathroom to scrub today’s events off my body.

I was quick because I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I felt marginally more human as I stepped out into the room. Cameron was sitting up on the bed, eyes permanently wide.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked as I scrubbed my short hair dry with a towel.

She shrugged helplessly. “Would you … will you … can I sleep in the same bed as you?”

Hiding my shock, I nodded. “’Course you can.”

Throwing the towel back into the bathroom, I returned to her bed. “Scoot over.”

She pushed the duvet down first and then shimmied over to the side to let me in. I got in slowly, stretching my legs, and then I turned to study her. Cameron stared up at me wearing a look I hadn’t seen in years. For a second, she was a wee girl again, gazing at me like I was special, like I could protect her and keep her safe.

Sliding my arm around her shoulders, I drew her head down to my chest and she shifted lower on the bed to cuddle into me. Her clenched fist rested over my heart, and I covered it with my hand, gently massaging her fingers loose.

Her body shook against mine and she made this awful choking noise.

Anguish made swallowing painful as I realized she was trying to stifle her tears. My voice was thick, gruff, as I squeezed her closer and whispered, “Let it out, baby. Don’t hold it in. You can let it out. You’re safe with me.”

Quite abruptly a low, keening sob escaped Cameron, eliciting my own tears. I held mine back, though, as my grip on her tightened. I didn’t speak. Just let her cry. Until eventually her breathing evened out and sleep rescued her from this fucking awful reality.

13. Cameron

Waking up the next morning, not only was I surprised to find myself still wrapped in Forde’s arms, cuddled in the same position we’d drifted off in, but I was taken aback I’d slept the whole night through.

True sleep had evaded me for days, so it was kind of shocking that on the day we’d discovered horrific evidence that probably proved Greig Wallace was a psychopathic serial killer, I’d slept. And deeply too since I hadn’t moved position.

I lifted my head from Forde’s chest and something scarily tender scored through me. His features were relaxed in sleep. He slept upright, his arm loosely draped over my back, his other hand still covering mine that rested on his chest. He had extra beard growth already, making his usually trimmed facial hair a wee bit patchy. This close to him, I could see there were a few gray hairs in among the dark. For some strange reason that caused an aching pang to echo near my breastbone.

My gaze traced the sharp angle of his cheekbones, his thick dark lashes. His lower lip was fuller than his top, giving him an attractive pout. Forde had a bold nose like me and while I disliked mine, I always thought his provided rough masculinity to his otherwise pretty-boy looks. As did his tattoos and muscularity. As long as I’d known him, Forde had thrived on physical activity. The riskier the better.

Despite the history between us, I was grateful to him. I also felt guilty that he’d been dragged into this by some weird twist of fate that had brought him to me in Aberdeen. Yet he hadn’t left my side. It was a reminder that when the two of us weren’t screwing around with each other’s feelings, we were good friends.

And even if I possessed a wealth a feeling for this man, that reminder proved we were better as friends.

When this nightmare was over (if it ever really ended), I wanted to find a way back to that place with Forde.

I winced at the sight of his slightly bent neck. He was going to hurt today for having slept in such an awkward position.

Abruptly, Forde’s eyes opened as his body gave a jerk. His arm tensed around me as he blearily took in the room and then slowly glanced down at me.

Dark eyes searching mine, my breath caught as we held gazes. The moment stretched on as if we were both afraid to break the connection. It felt like how it used to between us. Before I stupidly made the decision I was going to seduce him on his birthday so my first time would be with the boy I loved.

I didn’t think I’d loved Forde like that for a long time.

But in that moment, he made me question if you ever really stopped loving someone.

A banging on the hotel room door had me jumping in his arms.

Fear shot through me as Forde sat up while pulling me tighter against him.

“It’s DI Mulvaney and PC Colins,” the familiar voice called out.

Nausea swam in my gut, but I rolled off the bed before Forde could and hurried over to open the door. The detective inspector looked as exhausted as I felt as she strolled into the room with the younger female officer who’d taken me seriously yesterday. Forde had gotten off the bed to join us. I wondered what time it was.

“How are you both?” DI Mulvaney asked bluntly.