Novels by Gem

Cameron POvThe photograph stayed on my screen.I couldn’t stop staring at it.My mother’s face was impossible to mistake.She looked exactly how I remembered her, except the memory of her had always felt strangely incomplete, like someone had taken pieces of my childhood and carefully hidden them somewhere I could never reach.But there she was.Alive.Smiling.Standing beside Brandon’s mother.And suddenly, every painful memory I had carried for years felt like a lie.“Cameron,” Brandon whispered.I didn’t answer.My fingers were trembling around the phone.“My mother,” he said again.I finally looked at him.“She isn’t dead.”His eyes were already filling with tears.“I know.”For a few seconds, neither of us moved.We had spent years believing the people we loved were gone.We had blamed ourselves.We had mourned them.We had built our entire lives around that grief.And now someone had sent us a photograph that destroyed everything we thought we knew.My father stepped forward.“

The Cameron POv photograph stayed on my screen.I couldn’t stop staring at it.My mother’s face was impossible to mistake.She looked exactly as I remembered her, except I had spent years believing those memories were incomplete.She was smiling.Actually smiling.And beside her stood Brandon’s mother.Alive.Together.Standing inside a room that looked strangely familiar.“Cameron,” Brandon whispered.“I see it.”His hand slowly tightened around mine.“My mother.”I nodded.“She isn’t dead.”Neither of us spoke after that.For years, Brandon and I had carried the same kind of pain.We had both believed someone we loved had disappeared forever.We had both blamed ourselves in different ways.And now someone was telling us that the truth had been hidden.My father walked closer.“Give me the phone.”I immediately stepped backward.“No.”“Cameron.”“You don’t get to tell me anything anymore.”His expression tightened.“You don’t understand what that photograph means.”“Then explain it.

The gun being cocked made everyone freeze.I could barely breathe in the darkness.Brandon’s fingers immediately tightened around mine.“Stay with me,” he whispered.“I am.”My voice shook despite my attempt to sound calm.Another click came from somewhere ahead.“Drop the weapon,” Daniel ordered.Nobody answered.Then a gunshot exploded through the darkness.Someone screamed.I felt Brandon pull me down.Another shot followed.“Everybody stay down!”Daniel’s voice echoed through the corridor.I pressed myself against the floor, my heart pounding painfully.“Brandon?”“I’m here.”“Are you hurt?”“No.”I reached for him anyway.My fingers found his shoulder.He was shaking.So was I.Then the emergency lights flickered back on.I looked around immediately.My father was standing near the wall.Victor was beside him.Daniel had his gun raised.Adrian was crouched behind a desk.But someone was missing.“Where is Amelia?”Nobody answered.My stomach dropped.“Where is Amelia?”Daniel loo

gunsh.Cameron POVIt o never cameI remembered that first.My finger had been on the trigger.My father had been standing in front of me.I had looked directly into his eyes.And then—Nothing.No gunshot.No blood.No scream.Just silence.I gasped.My hand flew to my mouth as the memory broke apart inside my head.“Cameron?”Brandon’s voice sounded distant.I couldn’t answer him.I was back there.Back in that room.Back on that night.My father was standing across from me, wearing the same dark suit he always wore when he wanted to look untouchable.There had been blood on his collar.Not his blood.Someone else’s.My hands were shaking around the gun.“You don’t have to do this,” my father had said.I remembered laughing.Not because I was amused.Because I was terrified.“You’ve been telling me what I have to do my entire life.”His expression hardened.“You don’t understand what you’re involved in.”“I understand enough.”“You think you can destroy everything I’ve built?”“No.”

Cameron POVThe sound of the door being forced open made my entire body freeze.For one second, I forgot how to breathe.Brandon was still in my arms, his head resting against my chest, his fingers weakly gripping the front of my shirt as if letting go would make him disappear again.“Brandon?”His eyes were closed.“Brandon, please.”I shook his shoulder gently.Nothing.My heart slammed against my ribs.“No. No, no, no.”I could hear footsteps coming closer.Fast.Heavy.I looked toward the doorway, but the darkness made it impossible to see who was there.“Who is that?” I shouted.No answer.The footsteps stopped.Then someone spoke.“Cameron.”My blood turned cold.I knew that voice.I knew it too well.“Dad?”Brandon suddenly moved in my arms.His eyes opened.“Cameron…”His voice was barely audible.I looked down at him.“What?”He stared past me toward the doorway, and all the color drained from his face.“Don’t let him take me.”My stomach dropped.“What?”“Don’t…”His fingers

Cameron POVThe footsteps became louder.They were coming from both sides of the corridor.I looked around the archive room.There were too many of them.“We need another way out,” Daniel said.Evan was already moving toward the shelves.“There is one.”My father stared at him.“You won’t find it.”Evan looked back.“You’re forgetting who taught me how to escape this place.”My father’s expression hardened.“Cameron did.”“Yes.”Evan pulled a file from a shelf and threw it onto the floor.Behind it was a narrow opening in the wall.Amelia stared.“That was there the whole time?”Evan nodded.“This facility was built with emergency passages.”Adrian hurried toward it.“Where does it lead?”“Outside.”Everyone started moving.Everyone except me.I was still staring at the screen.The final sentence remained there.THE HUNT STARTS NOW.My younger self had known this would happen.He had planned for it.But there was something else.A small blinking icon had appeared in the corner of the

**Point de vue de Cameron**J’avais à peine quitté la salle de classe quand mon téléphone a vibré avec un message de Brandon.**B :** Je t’attends dehors. Ne traîne pas.J’ai fourré mon cahier dans mon sac sans même prendre la peine de répondre. Typique de Brandon. Il agissait comme s’il me faisait une faveur juste en existant.J’ai passé mon sac à dos sur mon épaule et j’ai poussé mon chemin à travers le couloir bondé, ignorant les chuchotements habituels qui me suivaient. Les gens agissaient soit comme si j’étais invisible, soit parlaient de moi comme si je ne pouvais pas les entendre. C’était comme ça depuis des années. Aujourd’hui n’aurait pas dû être différent — sauf que ça l’était.Dès que je suis sorti, j’ai repéré Brandon appuyé contre la voiture, les bras croisés sur la poitrine. Son t-shirt noir épousait parfaitement ses formes, les manches relevées juste assez pour laisser voir les légères lignes de muscles sur ses avant-bras. Sa mâchoire était serrée, le regard distant, co

Point de vue de CameronCette nuit-là, j’étais allongé dans mon lit, fixant le plafond tandis que les ombres se tordaient dans la pièce comme des fantômes agités. Le lampadaire dehors clignotait toutes les quelques secondes, projetant de faibles traînées de lumière sur mes draps. Mes doigts faisaient tourner la bague à mon doigt, le métal froid et inflexible contre ma peau. Le nœud dans ma poitrine se resserrait à chaque tour, une pression dont je ne pouvais pas m’échapper.Je détestais à quel point la bague était lourde. À quel point elle me rappelait tout ce que j’essayais d’oublier.Ce n’était qu’un deal.Un arrangement.Rien de plus.J’ai enfoncé la bague dans ma paume, espérant que la piqûre me recentrerait, mais ça n’a fait que me rendre encore plus conscient de la douleur qui se répandait dans ma poitrine.J’aurais dû être soulagé. L’arrangement me donnait tout ce dont j’avais besoin : de la sécurité, de la stabilité, une échappatoire aux critiques de mon père et au poids cons

Point de vue de BrandonLa cuisine était silencieuse, si ce n’est le tic-tac de l’horloge. Les assiettes du dîner étaient abandonnées sur la table, les couverts reflétant la lumière tamisée comme de petites dagues.Drake s’appuyait contre le comptoir, faisant tourner la tige de son verre de vin entre ses doigts. Il n’avait pas bu une gorgée — il le tenait juste comme un accessoire, quelque chose pour occuper sa main pendant qu’il aiguisait ses mots en armes.J’étais assis en face de lui, le coude posé sur la table, traçant paresseusement le bord de ma tasse de café. Je n’y avais pas touché. Il était devenu froid. Peu importe.Parce que tout ce qui m’importait à cet instant, c’était la façon dont Drake ne cessait de jeter des regards vers le couloir — attendant que Cameron revienne comme un vautour tournant autour d’un animal mourant.Drake a ricané, brisant le silence en premier. « La bague a l’air ridicule sur lui », a-t-il marmonné d’une voix teintée de dégoût. « Comme habiller des

Point de vue de CameronJ’ai suivi mon père tandis qu’il me conduisait dans le bureau. La porte lourde s’est refermée derrière moi avec un bruit sourd. Le son a résonné dans ma poitrine, comme un rappel que je ne pourrais pas partir tant qu’il n’aurait pas fini de me démolir. La pièce sentait le cuir et le whisky éventé, l’odeur tenace des cigares flottant dans l’air comme un fantôme.Il ne m’a pas regardé. Pas tout de suite. Il s’est dirigé vers le bar dans le coin, s’est versé un verre de whisky et est resté là, faisant tourner le liquide comme s’il avait tout le temps du monde. La glace a tinté contre le verre, le son tranchant dans le silence étouffant.Je suis resté raide, les doigts tressaillant le long de mon corps.« Assieds-toi », a-t-il ordonné sans même se retourner.Je me suis assis sur le bord de la chaise, le dos droit. Le cuir a grincé sous mon poids, le bruit absurdement fort dans la pièce tendue. Mon pouls battait dans mes oreilles, étouffant tout sauf le poids écrasa

**Point de vue de Cameron**J’avais envie de vomir.On avait ce stupide dîner de famille aujourd’hui, et maintenant j’étais planté devant la porte d’entrée, l’estomac noué. Les immenses doubles portes se dressaient devant moi comme les portes de l’enfer.Brandon ne me lâchait pas. Quand il avait appris que je dînais avec ma famille, il avait décidé de se joindre à moi.Je lui avais dit qu’il n’avait pas besoin de venir, mais il avait insisté, affichant ce sourire suffisant comme s’il savait quelque chose que j’ignorais.« Tu trembles, joli garçon », a dit Brandon d’une voix basse et amusée.J’ai retiré ma main d’un coup en réalisant qu’il avait raison. « Je ne tremble pas, va te faire foutre. »Il a penché la tête, savourant clairement le moment. « Tu n’es pas obligé de faire ça, tu sais. »J’ai roulé des yeux et poussé la porte sans frapper. « Si, je le suis. Je dois le faire pour pouvoir avancer dans mes plans. »La maison sentait pareil — comme le citron du polish et l’air fr

Point de vue de CameronBrandon n’a pas perdu une seconde.Dès que nous avons accepté cette proposition ridicule, Brandon m’a traîné dans les rues comme si nous étions en retard pour quelque chose d’important. Je l’ai suivi les mains enfoncées profondément dans les poches, en retenant l’envie de lui dire de ralentir. Il n’avait pas l’air de se soucier que je traîne un demi-pas derrière lui ou que ma réticence rayonne de moi comme une enseigne au néon.Il était trop concentré à nous mener vers une boutique complètement excessive appelée Graff.L’endroit avait l’air tout droit sorti d’un film — tout en verre et en or, avec des projecteurs qui faisaient scintiller chaque diamant comme s’il avait son propre soleil personnel. J’ai hésité sur le seuil, mes baskets usées grincant contre le sol poli. Toute la boutique sentait la vanille et les roses, ce genre de parfum qui colle aux vêtements et fait battre la tête.Je n’avais pas ma place ici.Brandon, bien sûr, s’y intégrait parfaitement —

Epilogue Brandon’s POV(The Wedding)The sun had never looked this soft before. It wasn’t harsh or blinding — just golden, like it knew today wasn’t meant for anything loud. The breeze carried the scent of roses and vanilla, and somewhere behind me, Erica was quietly tearing up even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t.I stood there at the altar, palms damp, heart hammering like it was trying to break free from my chest.Cameron was late. Not by much, but just enough to make my nerves short-circuit.Hilda leaned in from her seat, grinning. “Relax, pretty boy. He’s coming. You know he wouldn’t miss this.”I tried to smile, but my voice came out shaky. “If he doesn’t show, I’m marrying you instead.”Erica snorted, resting her head on Hilda’s shoulder. “Sorry, babe. She’s taken.”And right then, I saw him.Cameron walked out from the garden path, wearing a light gray suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was a little messy, like he’d tried to fix it and gave up halfway, and the sunlight cau

Cameron’s POVIt had been two weeks since everything went down. Two weeks since Drake was finally locked up and life started to feel… breathable again.The world had quieted. Brandon was smiling more, laughing again, though I could still see the shadow behind his eyes sometimes — the kind you only get after surviving something too heavy for your heart.But tonight, I wanted to change that.I’d spent the entire day planning. Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic — just something us. Because the first time I’d proposed… everything around it got poisoned. Drake had twisted it, used it. This time, I wanted it to be ours again.No cameras. No manipulation. Just me and him.The sky was painted in warm orange streaks when I parked outside the old lakeside park. Brandon loved this place. It was where we’d had our first fight and our first real “I love you.” The water shimmered like melted gold, the air calm except for the rustle of the trees.He climbed out of the car, squinting at the sunset. “You

Brandon POVIt’s crazy how fast things can change.One week ago, our lives were chaos — flashing sirens, screaming, and Drake’s twisted smirk burned into my memory. Now? The house was quiet again. Peaceful, even. My parents were back to drinking morning coffee on the porch, pretending like their son hadn’t just been caught in a nightmare.And Cameron… he was still healing.Every morning he’d walk into class wearing that same navy hoodie, the one with the tiny tear on the sleeve. He’d pretend he was fine, answer questions like nothing happened, but I could tell. The way his fingers tapped against his notebook. The way he sometimes zoned out mid-conversation. The way he looked at the window like he was waiting for something bad to happen again.I got it.Because I was waiting too.But life didn’t stop. Exams were back. Assignments stacked up again. Everyone else had already moved on — except us.Friday came, and I found Cameron sitting at the bleachers behind the school gym. His hoodie

Cameron POVEverything was noise and motion.The alarm screamed through the house, echoing off the walls and into my skull. My pulse hammered in time with it. Brandon was still grappling with Drake, both of them sliding across the floor, the rain slamming harder against the windows like it was trying to drown out the chaos inside.“Bran—get back!” I shouted, but he didn’t. He never did when it came to protecting me.The blinking light under the table flashed faster. Red. Urgent.I dropped to my knees, ripping away the tablecloth, and froze. A crudely wired device sat on the floor, timer flickering in uneven numbers. My stomach twisted. “He set a bomb.”Drake laughed from across the room, voice hoarse but still mocking. “Told you I’d make you choose.”Brandon slammed him into the ground again, pinning his arm. “You’re done, Drake! You hear me?”Drake grinned through split lips. “Not yet.”My hands shook as I studied the wires. I didn’t know how to defuse bombs—I wasn’t some movie hero—

Brandon’s POVThe night felt heavier than usual. Every street we passed on the drive home looked blurred through the rain, like the whole city was trying to wash itself clean but couldn’t. Cameron hadn’t said a word the entire ride. His hands stayed clenched on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road like if he blinked, everything would fall apart.I wanted to say something—anything—to make it better. But what do you say after your stepbrother basically threatens your life, vanishes, and calls the cops on you? There wasn’t a guidebook for that.“Cam,” I said softly. “You’re shaking.”He didn’t answer. Just kept driving, headlights slicing through the mist. “I just want to get home,” he muttered finally. “Just home.”So I didn’t push. I let him have the silence.When we finally pulled up to my house, everything felt… off. The porch light was on, but the front door was wide open, creaking slightly in the wind. That was the first sign. The second was the stillness—the kind that didn’t

Brandon’s POV)The air was cold enough to bite. I could see my breath fog up the car window as Cameron killed the engine, his jaw locked tight like he was about to walk into a war. The streetlights buzzed above us, throwing pale light over puddles and cracked pavement. Somewhere in the distance, thunder grumbled like a warning.I didn’t say anything at first. My fingers were gripping the seatbelt too tight, like if I let go, I might lose it. The message Drake had sent earlier still burned in my head — ONE HOUR. OR I COME TO YOU. It didn’t sound like a bluff.“So this is it?” I finally said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant. “We’re just… going in?”Cameron didn’t look at me. His eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, scanning the shadows. “We’re not running anymore.”I swallowed. “Cam, this isn’t like before. You said he was dangerous—”“I know,” he snapped, too fast. Then softer, “I know. But he’s not going to stop. If we wait, he’ll find us anyway.”I studied him. His knuckl