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Miami trip
Camille's POV
I climbed down the chair and rushed towards Gav. He met me halfway with a long stride and scooped me up into his arms.
I brushed my face deeper into his warmth, wishing I could stay there forever, safe and happy.
One of his hands caressed my hair, pushing it aside so he can see my face and the bruise on my neck. I looked up to see fierce hazel eyes narrowed in anger. He traced the bruise with his fingers and I winced in pain.
"Who did this?"
Who indeed.
Alan Johnson.
And his son, Nolan.
"Who, Camille? Talk to me," He sounded agitated, he cupped my face, stroking it with his thumb.
Should I tell him about Nolan? My skin crawled in disgust just at the thought of his name. Would Gav
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