Cam yanked the keys out of the ignition and grabbed the bags sitting on the passenger seat.

She was pretty sure she’d never driven through Aspen Falls as quickly as she just had. It was a miracle she hadn’t been pulled over during her race around town.

It had taken a lot of convincing to leave the house and go pick up the prescription Miguel had called in. She didn’t want to leave Alex.

Mostly because she wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t try to bolt as soon as the coast was clear. But he’d promised her, in no uncertain terms, that he would stay put.

She didn’t have to believe him…but she did.

There was a small part of her that hesitated over leaving him because of the condition he was in. Even though Miguel hadn’t seemed too terribly worried, and even though she’d checked and cleaned his leg wound and it looked to be closing back up again, she still had concerns about his health. What if his leg started bleeding again, more profusely this time? What if his ribs really were broken, and one of those horrible sounding conditions Miguel had mentioned suddenly developed? She wouldn’t be there to help. To take care of him.

Cam shook her head as she hustled toward the front door. The garage door was already closing, squeaking noisily on the rollers. Two of the neighbor kids, Austin and Ella, whizzed by her on their bikes.

“Hi, Ms. Perez,” they called out in unison, their voices muffled by the bike helmets strapped to their heads.

She offered a half-hearted wave. Their dad was in the backyard, pushing a mower over the perfectly manicured lawn, while their mom watched over a grill positioned on the back deck. The scent of hamburgers filled Cam’s nostrils and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. And she was starving.

She unlocked the front door and made sure to lock and deadbolt it behind her. She wasn’t normally an overly cautious person—being a cop in Aspen Falls, she knew just how safe the town really was, especially in comparison to where she’d grown up—but with Alex there she could feel herself channeling some of his nervousness and anxiety. She had no doubt it was probably influencing her behavior a little.

With the bags looped over her arm, Cam made her way down the hall. Her pulse quickened as she approached the half-open door. A sense of dread loomed over her. What if the bed was empty? What if the window was propped open again, the shade flapping in the breeze, no sign of Alex anywhere?

What would she do? Go looking for him again? Call her friends at the station?

She didn’t know the answer, and that disturbed her. The obvious choice—the only choice, really—should be to call the station. But she knew herself, and despite her best attempt at keeping her distance and maintaining neutrality, she knew she was losing her objectivity. She was connected to Alex, for better or for worse, and she knew this link to him would influence the decisions she made.

Hell, it already was.

She’d convinced her brother to write a prescription for painkillers. Even worse, she’d had him put it under her name so she wouldn’t have problems picking it up. Celeste, the pharmacy technician she’d gotten the prescription from, had briefly dated one of the officers at the station, and even though she wasn’t supposed to comment on patients’ medications, her eyes had rounded when she read the label on the bag as she was ringing Cam up.

“Gee, I hope you feel better soon,” she’d whispered.

Cam had gritted her teeth and just nodded.

She sincerely hoped Celeste didn’t have a penchant for gossip.

She pushed those thoughts aside just as she pushed the bedroom door open. She was bracing herself for worst-case scenario. An empty bed.

That wasn’t the image that greeted her.

Instead, she saw Alex asleep. The white sheet was pulled up to his abdomen, leaving his upper half bare. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, noticed that he didn’t seem to be struggling with breathing or experiencing any pain as he slept. His leg was covered, hidden behind the sheet, but the fabric was still white, which meant there was currently no bleeding.

All good signs.

But those weren’t the only things Cam noticed. She drank in his long dark lashes resting against smooth, tanned skin and his rosy, rounded lips. Even though it had been years, she had total recall of just how that mouth had felt pressed against hers. Alex was wearing his hair a little shorter now, but she could still see the hint of waviness, and the persistent cowlick he’d fought as a teen looked to be just as stubborn as ever. She’d twined her fingers around that rebellious lock of hair more times than she could count.

Cam dropped the bags on the chair she’d positioned next to the bed. The sound of the plastic rustling against the vinyl seat made Alex stir.

His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he looked confused. Then terrified.

“It’s just me,” she said quickly, crouching down so she was in his line of vision. Without thinking, she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Big mistake.

More memories flooded her mind.

Interlocked hands.

Entwined bodies.

A vault of images, firmly locked away, suddenly assaulted her senses.

She let go of his hand and dropped into the chair, startling herself when she sat on the plastic bags. She’d forgotten they were there.

She yanked the bags out from underneath her. “I have your pills,” she said.

He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

She dug around in the bag and pulled out a small paper sack that contained the bottle of medication. “It’s two weeks worth. I think there are a couple of refills available.”

He glanced at the bag. “What else is in there?”

“A gel ice pack,” she said. “I thought you might want to try it. See if it helps. I…I bought some more gauze, too. And some ointment. For your leg.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” She pulled out the items and set them on the nightstand.

“What’s in the other bag?” Alex asked.

Cam felt her cheeks warm.

“I…I thought you might want a change of clothes,” she half-mumbled. “I mean, your jeans have a massive gash in them and your shirt was pretty filthy…”

Alex’s eyes locked on hers. “Show me.”

She plunged her hand into the bag, mostly so he wouldn’t notice that it was trembling. Why on earth were her hands shaking? All she’d done was pick up a few cheap pieces of clothing so he didn’t have to be in her house half-naked.

“Just a couple of T-shirts,” she said quickly, lifting them up for him to see. A blue one and a black one. His two favorite colors, she’d realized as she was picking them out. “A pair of sweats. A pair of shorts. A couple pairs of underwear. And a pair of socks. Yours got pretty bloody…”

“Wow.” His voice was still weak but that didn’t mask how impressed he sounded. And how grateful. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“You need clothes. And I don’t live with a man.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he murmured.

She sat back in the chair, hoping to slow her racing heart. Her adrenaline had kicked up a notch when she’d gotten home because of the uncertainty of what she was coming back to. But now that she was there, she felt a little more relaxed. A little more in control of the situation. Alex was stable. He’d trusted her enough to stay put while she ran errands.

Maybe now was the time to ask her questions.

And get some answers.

Her stomach growled, loudly enough that Alex noticed.

“Hungry?” She swore his eyes twinkled when he said this.

It was useless to deny it, not when there was such strong evidence to the contrary. “Starving.”

“Me, too.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. You haven’t eaten anything. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said simply. “You’ve been dealing with other things. Like making sure I don’t run away. And figuring out how best to interrogate me…”

She didn’t bother denying any of his statements. “I also took care of you,” she pointed out.

“Yes, you absolutely did.” His immediate agreement took her a little by surprise.

“But you’re hungry?” she asked, standing up.

“And then some.”

Cam smiled. That had to be a good sign, a sign that he was on the road to recovery.

“Wait right here,” she told him.

He arched an eyebrow. “Where would I go?”

She gave him a withering look. “Out the window. Again.”

His answering grin revealed a stealth dimple in his right cheek. It only appeared with his widest of smiles.

Her heart threatened to explode at the sight of it.

She lurched toward the door. She needed to regroup. Another smile like that could seriously undo her.

“I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

Five minutes later, she returned with her emotions under control—sort of—and two steaming bowls of soup.

Alex sniffed the air. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Tortilla soup,” she said as she handed him the bowl. She’d only partially filled it, not knowing how hungry he was and not wanting him to have to manage an overly full bowl.

He inhaled the steam rising from the bowl. “I can’t remember the last time I had this,” he said.

Cam sobered.

She could.

It had been the last meal they’d eaten together. He’d come over late, just as she was finishing her homework. She’d wanted a snack before bed but there was nothing to eat. Nothing except a margarine tub filled with leftovers of her grandma’s tortilla soup. She’d heated it in a pan on the stove and then plopped it on the rickety linoleum table, using a threadbare kitchen towel as a hot pad. She’d fished two spoons from the dish drainer and they’d eaten directly from the pot, sucking down spoonfuls and scraping the sides clean.

He ate a bite and she watched as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Is this your grandma’s recipe?”

Cam nodded.

His grin swallowed his entire face, revealing that dimple again. “She’s still cooking, huh?”

Cam looked down at her hands. “I make it now. She gave me the recipe.”

“Is…?” Alex’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is your grandma still alive?”

Cam looked up at him. Concern filled his features. “She’s still kicking around,” she assured him. “But she’s in a senior home now.”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s just old.” Cam stirred her soup with her spoon, watching as the black beans and tomatoes swirled in the thick broth. “She moved out of the neighborhood years ago, to an apartment in Fridley.”

Alex held the bowl in his hands and listened.

“But that got to be too much for her. Mama talked about taking care of her, but you know how that goes.” She rolled her eyes. “She can barely take care of herself.”

“How is she doing?” he asked gently. “Your mom?”

Cam shrugged. “Sober right now. Has a job. Who knows how long it’ll last this time around?”

Marta, her mother, had been like that Cam’s entire life, jumping from job to job, spending weeks, sometimes months, at a time unemployed. With no dad to speak of—even Miguel barely remembered the man who had donated his sperm to create them—the bulk of the childrearing had gone to Cam’s mother. And when she was derelict in her duties, Grandma had stepped in, doing what she could despite the fact that she worked full-time to support herself.

“Is she close by? Your grandma?” Alex asked. “Or does she live closer to the cities now?”

Cam smiled. “She’s close. Miguel and I wanted to make sure at least one of us could check in on her regularly. Considering where he’s decided to live, it made the most sense to move her here.”

“I’m glad she’s okay,” he said quietly. “And I’m glad you’ve taken over the tradition of making her soup.”

Silence filled the room. Cam stared back down at her bowl. The steam had dissipated, and she wondered if it was even hot anymore. The bowl was certainly still warm in her hands, but the contents? Who knew? She felt as though she’d been talking for hours.

Irritation welled up inside of her. She’d spent the last several minutes chatting with Alex as if he were simply an old friend and they were catching up on each other’s lives.

Except there were two things wrong with this scenario.

He wasn’t an old friend.

He was essentially a stranger, a stranger who had broken into her home.

And they weren’t catching up on each other’s lives. She’d filled him in on her grandma, even fed him tidbits about her mom’s continued battles, and he’d told her…nothing.

Inwardly, she fumed. She wasn’t angry with him, per se. Well, maybe she was a little bit. Mostly, she was furious with herself. For falling into the same trap he’d entangled her in years ago. He had always been so easy to talk to, so willing to listen. He’d always sucked her in with his simple gestures: his gentle voice, the looks he gave her. He exuded an air of authenticity, projecting the idea that he really cared: about her, about her family, about them.

And then he’d gone and shot it all to hell.

She set her soup down.

“You’re not hungry anymore?”

She shook her head.

“Something is wrong.” Alex said this as a statement, not a question.

Cam fixed him with a cool stare. She wasn’t about to admit the thoughts running through her mind. He didn’t deserve that level of intimacy. He didn’t deserve anything from her.

Something changed in his expression. “I can’t tell you everything.” Alex’s voice was soft. It was the first time he’d volunteered information. “Please believe me. If I could, I would. But there are some things no one can know. Not even you.”

Her chuckle was harsh, grating to her own ears. “Oh, really?” She shook her head in disgust. She had no idea what he was referring to, but she could make a pretty good guess. If his past was any indication, she imagined he was high up the chain of command with whatever gang he was running with now.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he said. “Or put you in danger. Talking to you about certain…things has the potential to do both. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Cam bit her lip so hard it hurt. She hated that his words still affected her. Even now, with anger coursing through her veins, her heart still thrilled at the words he’d just spoken.

She brushed back a strand of hair, pushing it off her face. “And the last thing I want to do is haul you in,” she said evenly. “But I’m a cop, and a damn good one. I like investigating, and I like solving cases. And I love bringing the bad guys to justice.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “I’m not who I used to be, Cam.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” she retorted. “Since you won’t tell me jack shit.”

Her phone buzzed, and she yanked it from her sweatshirt pocket. Nate’s number flashed across the screen.

“Nate.” Her voice was flat.

“You really need to work on how you answer phone calls,” he said dryly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She stole a quick glance at Alex, who was staring out the window, his half-eaten bowl of soup apparently abandoned. “What’s up?”

“Blaine and Ollie had a traffic stop a couple hours ago. Car reeked of weed so they did a search. Found a shit ton of heroin. Might relate to the Douglas case.”

Cam pulled open the nightstand drawer, looking for a pen and a pad of paper. She found neither. She settled for making mental notes instead.

“I’m taking tomorrow off,” Nate said. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you decide to go in. Otherwise we can touch base on Monday. The guys posted bond but they’ll be due back in court. I’ll check the paperwork and touch base with the DA’s office.”

“Sounds good,” she said. A part of her itched to get into the office and pore over the Douglas case file, but she already knew that was a pipe dream. She wasn’t going anywhere while Alex was in her house.

“Oh, one more thing,” Nate added. She could hear papers shuffling. “A BOLO came through.”

A BOLO. Be on the look out. They didn’t get a ton of those coming through the station.

“Non-emergency, but they’re asking us to keep our eyes open.” He broke off. “Shit. Sally’s calling.”

Cam fought back a smile. Sally was Nate’s fiancée, a nurse at the hospital, and one of the sweetest, most generous people Cam had ever met. She gave Nate a lot of latitude when it came to his job and the amount of hours he worked, but he’d realized that when she called or demanded attention, he’d better drop everything and give it to her.

“I gotta go,” he said quickly. “I’ll get you the details later. But the name of the guy is Alex Castillo.”

He ended the call.

And Cam almost dropped the phone.

Her gaze flew to the man sitting in the bed.

The man who was watching her with a curious expression on his face.

The man who was wanted by the police.