Love, Scars, & Shooting Stars

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Cameron whistled a lively tune as he pulled a clean shirt over his still-damp hair and headed for the kitchen. He was still in awe over his good fortune, and despite a shortage of sleep coupled with the effects of the slightest whiskey hangover, he felt more energetic than he had in years. Funny, what love can do to a man.

When they'd left the old house, he'd agreed to give Julie a ten-minute head start, although he knew it wouldn't matter much if Finn was already awake. She was worried about how it would look if they arrived together after being gone all night, so—not wanting to burst her bubble by pointing out that her kid wasn't stupid—Cameron had dutifully lingered behind. But now, as he poured his morning coffee and recalled the taste of her on his, he wished for the opportunity of one more stolen kiss.

There'll be plenty of time for that later, though, he smiled to himself. The rest of our lives, even.

But for now, it was time for him to head down to The Sub Shack. He hoped for a hectic day, with enough work to keep his mind from thinking of Julie and the conversation she would be having with her son. What if Finn didn't approve, what if he didn't want his mother to have a relationship with Cameron? Would she give in and side with her son, or would she follow her heart? And if she chose the latter, would Cameron be able to go through with it, knowing that she would always be torn?

Cameron's mental anguish was interrupted as his kitchen door burst open and Julie came sweeping in. He turned with a smile, thinking that she had come to steal another kiss after all, but one look at her face and the smile instantly fell from his lips.

"He's gone," she choked out, her face ashen and her eyes wide with panic. "Phineas is gone!"

Within minutes Cam was behind the wheel of his truck and barreling down Route One, headed for the closest on-ramp to I-95 South. Julie sat in the passenger seat, staring intently through the windshield and looking as if she might shatter at any moment. Finn's note was still clutched in her hand, although it didn't offer them much to go on. All the boy had written was that he was going to live with his father, and that it would be better that way for everyone involved. No clues as to how long he'd been gone, how he planned on getting there, or if Garrett was somehow involved.

Cameron cast a worried glance in Julie's direction as she used his cell phone to dial Finn's number yet again. Again, no answer. She clutched the phone to her chest and went back to staring out the window.

Damn it! he thought, resisting the urge to slam his hand against the steering wheel. Finn seemed fine when I dropped him off at home last night! What did I miss? Christ, if I'd have known he was planning to run away, I never would have—

"This is my fault," Julie mumbled, to no one in particular.

Cam reached across the console and placed a gentle hand on her thigh. "No, it's not..."

She turned slowly and regarded him with a look of confusion, as if she didn't realize that she had spoken the thought aloud.

"This isn't your fault," he reiterated.

"I wasn't there, Cameron," she argued. "My son needed me, and I wasn't there for him. And now he's out there somewhere, alone and confused and—" Her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself, hunching forward over her lap. "Oh, God!" she wailed, right on the edge of hysteria. "What if we can't find him, Cameron? What if we can't find him?"

Cameron had never felt so damned helpless in his entire life! He wanted to stop the truck and comfort her, to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but he knew that, for her sake, he had to keep driving. Gripping the wheel with both hands, he fixed his eyes on the road ahead and eased the gas pedal down as far as it would go.

"We're going to find him, Julie," Cameron said. "I promise you, we're going to find him."

Please, God. Just let us find him.