A Sinner’s Saint (De Bellis Crime Family #4)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I love my brothers. But, fuck, I wish Gio could have just had a local wedding. Besides the gruelling heat up here, I fucking miss Cammi. My head has been more fucked up over the last twenty-four hours than it has been in weeks.

I credit Cammi for that. The peace she gives me is unlike anything else. Right now, though, the nightmares are wreaking havoc. I can’t seem to smoke enough to fog out the voices. And then there’s my brother Santo.

I thought I was fucking crazy. Seeing him talk to a blank wall, thinking it’s his dead fiancée, though? That’s the height of crazy, if you ask me. And there’s fuck all I can do to help him.

We’ve been watching him all night. Marcel and I. He just went to get Gabe to come and take over. We haven’t been able to get through to Santo. And although I know it’s all in his head, he’s happy talking to Shelli. Even if she doesn’t exist. It’s fucking hard. Santo and Shelli had been together since they were teenagers. Her death rocked the whole family but obviously it’s hit him hard.

I’m standing outside of Santo’s room lighting up a blunt, trying to ease my mind while I have two minutes alone. I don’t doubt that my brothers know I smoke, but it’s an if you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist kind of thing.

I’m puffing on my little happy stick when Gabe and Marcel appear. I flick the blunt to the ground and quickly stomp it out.

“Don’t let Gio see you doing that.” Gabe juts his chin towards my foot.

“Good thing he’s too busy playing house then.” I chuckle. I follow my brother into the room and watch as Gabe works fucking wonders on Santo, who finally lies down and goes the fuck to sleep.

By the time I get to my own room, I have a few hours before we jump back onto the jet. I pick up my phone and message Cammi.

Me:

I think we should move in together. I can buy us a house or an apartment.

Cammi:

That’s… a lot. Are you okay?

Me:

I’m not with you. So, no, I’m not okay.

Cammi:

When do you get back?

Me:

We should land around lunchtime.

Cammi:

I can’t wait. How was the wedding?

Me:

It was good. Until Santo got wasted and started talking to a ghost.

Cammi:

Really? A ghost? What ghost?

Me:

It’s a long story.

My phone starts ringing in my hand and Cammi’s picture lights up the screen. “Hey.”

“How are you really?” she asks.

“Tired,” I admit.

“Have you slept at all?”

I can hear the concern in her voice. I hate that she’s worried about me. She might not know why I don’t sleep well, or what my nightmares are about, but she realises that I sleep better when I’m next to her. “A couple of hours. I’m fine though. I don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m allowed to worry about you. It’s what girlfriends do,” she says, then adds, “I have an idea!”

“I don’t like being the thing that makes you worry. But what’s your idea?” I ask her.

“You’ll see when you get back. I’m going to send you an address. That’s if you still want to see me this afternoon?”

I laugh. “There is nothing I want to do more than see you, Cammi.”

“Okay. I’m going to text you a place before you land. Meet me there.”

“I’ll be there. What did you end up getting up to last night?” I question her.

“I stayed home and wallowed over the fact my boyfriend’s out of town,” she says. “And I watched The Princess Diaries with my mum.”

“I’m sorry.” I hate that she spent the weekend missing me. At the same time, it’s fucking good to know I’m not in this thing alone.

“It’s not your fault, and I’ll get over it. How was the ceremony? Was it romantic? What about the reception? Did you dance with anyone?” There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Jealousy too.

“It was a wedding. I danced with El once. We all had to,” I explain.

“Are you really okay?”

She can tell I’m barely holding on. I’m out of weed and, honestly, I just want to get back to Melbourne and back to her. I need a few minutes of quiet. “I am. I gotta go. Gio’s calling, but send me the address of where you want to meet. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon.” She cuts the call.

I want so badly to be able to tell her how I feel. It’s not fair to put that on her, though. I know she’s here now, but if she ever finds out about me, she’s not going to stick around. I wouldn’t blame her for it. I’m not a lovable person. I’m not someone who can love her wholly the way she deserves to be loved, because there’s always a chance the monsters will creep in and mess up my head.

They won’t let me keep her forever. And there’s nothing I can do to shut them up for good. I will, however, take advantage of whatever time I have with her and hope like fuck that it doesn’t completely destroy me when I lose her.

I step off the plane and look at Cammi’s message for the tenth time.

Cammi:

Meet me at the Sheridan. The girl at reception has a key for you. Room 1012.

Me:

Just landed. Be there soon.

I have no idea why she wants me to meet her at a hotel. It’s also not something I’m going to question. Honestly, she could have told me to meet her at the landfill and I’d be there in a heartbeat.

“Where are you going?” Gabe asks when I walk in the direction of the small office at the private airfield.

“I got plans. Catch you all later.” I wave a hand over the back of my head as I keep walking.

Thankfully, he’s too preoccupied by his girlfriend to question me. I don’t think they’ve technically put a label on it, and the fact they are trying to hide that they’re fucking every chance they get tells me Daisy doesn’t want people to know.

She’s one of El’s friends, and not a bad chick. A bit too intuitive for my liking. She took one look at me and could tell I was masking my anxiety. Given she’s a social worker, I guess she should be good at it. It’s what she does for a living. I don’t need anyone trying to work out the mess that is in my head, though, so I plan to steer clear of her.

I pull out my phone and call for an Uber. The hotel is only fifteen minutes from here. I wonder if this is what junkies feel like? Itching for their next hit. My body’s hyperalert. It’s like every fibre of my being knows we’re going to get to touch her again soon.

The moment I push through the doors of the hotel, I make a beeline for reception and give my name. I’m handed a card and directed to a bank of lifts. When I finally reach the tenth floor, I find the door and raise my hand to knock, but it swings open before I can bring my fist down.

“Get in here.” Cammi reaches out, taking my hand and pulling me into the room. Before the door can shut, she wraps her arms around my neck and her body presses up against mine.

I go still. It’s not that I don’t want her to touch me. It’s just that I’m not used to people just doing it. I need a bit of warning.

“Vin, I want you to hug me and I want you to never let go. Don’t ever leave me again. I missed you so much,” she says.

I feel it too. It wasn’t even forty-eight full hours. But, fuck, I hated every second I was away from her. My arms wrap around her waist and I hold her tight. My body relaxes, and I feel like I can breathe properly.

I sink my face into the crook of her neck and sigh. “I fucking missed you too.”

Cammi drops her arms way too fucking soon. “Come over here. Lie down with me.” She drops her robe, and now she’s only wearing a pair of pink lace panties. “Give me your shirt.” She holds out a hand.

Reaching behind my back, I pull the shirt over my head and hand it to her. As painful as it is to cover those fucking tits up, if she literally wants the shirt off my back, I’ll always give it to her.

Cammi covers herself and then slides under the blankets. I slip out of my shoes, standing in just my jeans before hopping on next to her.

“I want you to hold me and I want you to sleep,” she says.

“You want to sleep?” I ask, pulling her against me.

Cammi rests her head on my shoulder. “I want you to sleep, so that’s what we’re doing. Sleeping.” She tilts her head up so that her eyes connect with mine.

My fingers brush the stray strands of hair away from her face. I’m overwhelmed with emotion. She knows that I sleep better when she’s next to me. And here she is, offering to just stay and bed so I can sleep.

“I love you.” My words are whispered and I think they shock both of us.

Cammi blinks her eyes a few times and then she smiles. “Oh, thank god. I love you too. I wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t want to seem crazy,” she says.

“Why the fuck would you think you’d come across as crazy to me?” I ask her.

“Because of this. You and me. It’s a lot and it’s fast. But I just… I don’t know. I feel it, though, so deep. It’s like you’re in my blood. Your soul and mine are linked,” she tells me.

“You don’t want to be linked to my soul, babe. It’s not going anywhere good. And you? You’re a saint. You belong up, not down.”

“I belong wherever you are, Vin. I don’t care where that is.” She snuggles into my chest.

I close my eyes and inhale her scent. I can feel sleep wanting to take hold already.