by Hamel, B. B.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“That’s Jared. I’ll explain later.” Camden helped me pull my clothes back on.
The man called Jared moved out into the hallway and then poked his head back into the room. “We need to move now, Cam.”
“Got it.” Camden helped me to my feet.
“How?” I asked, entirely confused. Someone had saved him?
“I’ll explain soon. I promise. We need to get out of here first.”
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to my feet. My legs felt wobbly and shaky and I nearly fell, but he was there to support my weight.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“I think so.”
We moved toward the door, Camden supporting most of my weight. I was still in shock, barely able to understand how he was alive, but it didn’t matter. All I cared about was his arm around me, his strong body holding mine.
“All clear,” Jared said as we got into the hall.
We moved behind him, down toward another door. Slumped against the wall was another dead man’s body, and I had to force myself not to stare at him.
“It’s okay,” Camden whispered as we stepped around the body. “It’s going to be fine. We’re getting out of here.”
Jared stopped us at the next junction. We paused, quietly, while the sound of footsteps grew louder. Jared looked at Camden and held up two fingers. Then he pointed straight down the next hall. Camden nodded and slowly leaned me against the wall.
I didn’t say a word. I leaned against the wall while the two of them moved around the corner as one. Jared went high, firing three shots, and Camden went low, firing three as well. The two men didn’t make a noise other than a soft thump.
Camden was back by my side a second later. He threw his arm around me and we were off, moving down the hall. We turned the corner and climbed up a staircase. Jared cautiously pushed open the door and checked. He gave an “all clear” sign to Camden and we moved into the main part of the house.
We didn’t have too much ground to cover until we made it to the front door of the house. The whole place was eerily quiet.
“This is the hard part,” Camden whispered to me. “We’re going to have to make a run for the car.”
“Okay. I can run.”
He frowned. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
He looked at Jared. “On your mark.”
Jared nodded. “Stay low, stay close, and keep moving no matter what.”
Camden gave me a smile and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, and I realized that I didn’t feel nervous at all. I had a feeling we were about to do something very dangerous, but I didn’t care. I was back with Camden. He wasn’t dead.
I had purpose again.
“Move,” Jared said, throwing the door open and sprinting forward.
Camden surged after him, pulling me along. I kept up but barely. My legs felt like lead and I was limping hard on my right side from where Brent had kicked me. The sun was setting, casting red and violet rays across the open space.
Jared was running toward a black Jeep. We followed him, keeping low and not speaking. Jared made it there first. Just as Camden made it to the door, I hit a rock and went sprawling, skidding up toward the passenger door.
Although it hurt like hell, it probably saved my life, because a second later gunshots rang out from the house. They were loud and fast, hitting the dirt where I had just been standing.
Jared dove through the door, starting the engine as bullets smashed into the door around him. Camden got in next, hauling me up and into his lap.
“Hold on!” Jared yelled, throwing the car into gear and flooring it.
We shot forward. Jared turned the wheel hard, spinning us around and putting our back to the house. The guns kept firing, but they were missing as we began to move. We flew forward, hurtling away and toward freedom.
Up ahead was the road we had taken to get up to the house. We barreled down it, moving out of the range of the guns.
“Not out of the water yet,” Jared said.
Up head, I made out a thin chain-link fence and two men with rifles standing on either side of it.
“Camden,” Jared yelled.
Camden opened the window and leaned out. I covered my ears as he began to fire at the men, forcing them to scatter for cover.
“Hold on!” Camden yelled as Jared revved the engine, throwing us forward even faster.
We slammed into the gate. I lurched forward but Camden grabbed me, holding me hard against his chest. The fence gave and smashed open, throwing sparks and debris all over the place. The men began to shoot at us, the bullets whizzing through the air, but Jared sped away. We hit a bend in the road without slowing down, and then we were away.
The sound of gunfire receded into the distance as Jared made it out to the main road and turned left, driving fast away from the house.
“They’ll be after us,” he said.
“How soon?”
“We have a small head start, but we can’t slow down.”
“You okay?” Camden asked me.
I nodded. “How are you not dead?”
Camden laughed and grinned at me. “Like I said, I’m hard to kill.”
“Not, strictly speaking, true,” Jared mumbled.
“Who is this?” I stared at Jared.
“Remember my handlers?” Camden asked me softly. “Turns out they didn’t abandon me.”
“We try to take care of our own most of the time,” Jared said, looking at me.
“I thought you said they weren’t helping.”
“That’s what I thought,” Camden said. “But it turns out they’ve been tracking us this whole time.”
I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
Camden frowned and looked at Jared. “When can we stop?”
“Not for a while.”
My head was pounding.
“I think she might be hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
The truck seemed so small and I felt so tired. Suddenly, although it seemed crazy, all I wanted to do was fall asleep. My head was killing me.
“Lace,” Camden said, “don’t fall asleep.”
“Concussion?”
“Probably.”
“I’m fine,” I said again, but the words felt heavy on my lips.
“Keep her awake.”
“I know.” Camden looked at me. I curled up in his lap, my head pressed against his strong chest. “You have to stay away, Lacey.”
“Just let me nap a little.”
He sighed. “Come on, Lace. I’ll tell you a story.”
“’Kay,” I said groggily.
My head was pounding and I felt incredibly tired. But I struggled to stay awake anyway.
Because I was with Camden. I was with him, and he wasn’t dead. I didn’t understand what had happened or who Jared really was, but I was overwhelmingly relieved.
Back at the house, I had been ready to die. But suddenly, in Camden’s lap, the only thing I wanted was to live.
Even though all I wanted was to sleep, I forced myself to stay awake as the miles droned past and Camden softly told me the story of how he first fell in love.
Chapter Sixteen: Camden
Once upon a time, there was a guy who loved fast cars. He was young and he was reckless and he was stupid with himself and with his friends. He was careless, like a lot of young men are, because he couldn’t think beyond his own selfish wants and needs.
He lived in a city built out of walls. There were no doors or windows, just holes for people to crawl through. Except he couldn’t figure out how to get from one place to another, and so he stayed in his own little part of the city, looking at the same old cars over and over.
He felt very, very alone. He felt the kind of alone that made you want to never be alone ever again. Sometimes, that kind of alone feels like it’s never going to end.
But everything ends, and one day a new person climb
ed into his little hole in the city. She was beautiful and young and smart and made him feel things he forgot he could feel. She walked like the ground was made of clouds and she was all wrapped in lace.
Soon, though, even with his beautiful new friend, he got bored again. Young men can be stupid dumb assholes sometimes. Anyway, one day the young man crawled out into the larger city and realized that there was so much more than just the spaces he knew.
He was dizzy with everything around him. Suddenly, he wasn’t lonely at all. How could he be lonely with all the lights and noise and people? He let it all surround him, and he felt good. The things he used to value seemed old and quaint and stupid, and so he rebelled against them, remaking himself into something new. He wanted everything, wanted to learn everything, wanted to live the life he wanted and couldn’t imagine compromising.
So he took what he wanted and didn’t care about anything else. Even though he was surrounded with new people and experiences, the young man was just as selfish as he had always been. He couldn’t see past himself any better than when he was trapped in his little space. He couldn’t change or grow.
But when you’re suddenly drowning in new experiences, that selfishness can lead to bad things. The young man wasn’t thinking clearly. All he wanted to do was have the life he really wanted, and he began to do things that were wrong or bad. He justified it by saying that he’d stop eventually, as soon as he made enough money, but it was never enough.
And so, slowly but surely, the young man forgot about the beautiful girl. He was lost, so deeply and terribly lost. He was buried in the huge new world. He thought he could handle it all, and maybe he could, but it wasn’t exactly what he thought it would be.
Then, one day he found her again. It was like a light turning on in his brain. She had never disappeared, not really. The girl in lace had always been there, standing by his side, trying to get him to see the badness that was beginning to swallow him up.
And he loved her. He realized he loved her more than anything, because despite all the new things he had seen and done, she was the only good thing in his life.
But he was too far gone. One day, not long after he realized he loved the girl in lace, some bad men from his new life came to find him. They threatened to kill him and his family if he didn’t pay them the money he owed them. Not knowing what else to do, he ran away to a place where nobody could find him.
He did it to protect the girl in lace. He did it to protect his family. He disappeared into a new place, fell deep back into his loneliness, back into the little room he promised he’d never go back to. All because he loved her, the girl in lace, the only good thing he knew.
I managed to keep her awake as we drove through the night. She was loopy and half there, but she didn’t fall asleep. It was pretty obvious that she had a concussion, but we couldn’t do anything about it just yet. Hospitals were completely out of the question.
“Where are we going?” I asked Jared after a few hours.
“I know a place,” he said, not looking from the road. “We’re close now.”
“You sure it’s safe to stop?”
“They haven’t caught up to us, so I doubt they’ll be able to follow.”
“You doubt or you’re sure?”
He glanced at me. “Just take care of your stepsister.”
I clenched my jaw and looked back at Lacey. She smiled up at me and I began to tell her another story, this one about a prince living in Mexico.
Once upon a time, there was a prince living in Mexico.
He didn’t like it there. He wished he could go home, but the prince was a prisoner. He was a prisoner of an evil government and an even more evil wizard. The wizard liked to make and sell bad potions, and the government wanted to stop him.
The prince was trapped. He could help the evil government take down the bad wizard, or he could end up rotting away in jail and dying. And so the prince helped the government, because he had no other choice.
At first, it was easy. He did the things he always did. You see, the prince was also a master thief. He had been trained from birth to be able to open any lock anywhere in the world. At first, the wizard only had him opening locks.
But soon, as the wizard began to trust the prince more and more, the prince was forced to do things he didn’t want to do. He killed people and he hurt people. Some of those people were innocent victims, and some were bad men. The wizard didn’t care. All he wanted was to make more and more gold.
And so the prince was forced to go inside himself. He was trapped between the wizard and the government, stuck doing bad things for bad men for supposedly good reasons.
Bit by bit and day by day, parts of the prince died off. In place of those parts, new parts grew, but they were harder parts. The prince grew a shell around him, a thick armored shell nothing could get through.
The prince couldn’t feel the bad things anymore. He stopped caring who was killed and who wasn’t. All he wanted to do was get through the next day and the next. The shell kept him safe from all the horrible things on the outside.
He needed that shell. He was good at what he did, but the things he did were sometimes bad. The prince hated himself for that.
Then, one day, things changed. Something happened and the wizard found out about the evil government and the prince working for them. The prince ran away, back toward his kingdom.
But the shell stayed in place. The prince couldn’t just get rid of it in a single day.
Back in his kingdom, the prince tried to warn his royal family. He took them away, far far away, to keep them safe from the wizard.
And one day, while running from that wizard, the prince’s shell began to crack.
It was all because of the princess. She was beautiful and smart and funny and strong, and she always wore a lovely lace dress.
Day by day, bit by bit, his shell cracked, until the prince was able to breathe again.
He didn’t realize it, but that shell was slowly choking him. He was going to die alone inside it. He was ready to die. In fact, part of him wanted to die for all of the bad things he had done. But before he could die, the princess broke that shell and he didn’t want to die anymore. He wanted to live and be with the princess.
And so the prince and the princess lived together far far away from the wizard, happily ever after. The end.
We pulled off the main road and began to wind our way along dirt and rocky roads through thick wilderness. Not long after I finished my stories, we slowly pulled up a steep drive and stopped in front of a small, squat cabin.
“We’re here,” Jared said.
“What’s this?”
“Old safe house.”
“What do you mean, old?”
“We haven’t been operating around here for a while.” He shrugged. “Not sure what it’s used for now.”
“We should check it out, make sure it’s safe.”
“I’ll go. You stay with the girl.” He climbed out of the Jeep, gun in hand, without another word.
I watched him slip around the side of the building, barely more than a shadow. The way he moved was impressive, silent and stealthy.
Jared seemed to be who he said he was, though I wasn’t sure I trusted him just yet. Still, I couldn’t help but remember how I was kneeling down, ready to die, gun pressed up against my head, when he had come out of nowhere, killed Mikhail and Tomas with two quick shots, and helped me to my feet.
I had thought I was dead. But Jared saved me. He came out of nowhere, like a ghost.
“Who is he?” Lacey mumbled.
“A good guy. I think.”
Her eyes looked clearer than they did earlier. “But who is he?”
“He says he’s a member of the people that were handling me back in Mexico.”
“So he’s CIA.”
“He won’t say.”
She paused for a second, blinking. “I have an awful headache still, but I feel a lot better.”
“Good.”
“I thought you were dead.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around me.
“I’m sorry. I thought I was too.” I hugged her tight against me, savoring her smell.
“Don’t do that again. I told you not to sacrifice yourself.” She pulled back and gave me a fierce, angry look.
“You know I’m a bad listener,” I said, grinning.
“Stubborn, too.”
“And an asshole.”
She nodded. “Definitely an asshole.”
I kissed her then, hard, and she kissed me back, pulling my face tight against hers. It felt right, like I was coming home, and it lasted a long time.
Until a knock at the window startled me. We both looked up sheepishly at Jared, who motioned for us to come out.
“Aren’t you two siblings?” he asked, making a face.
“Stepsiblings,” Lacey said.
“Got a problem?” I asked.
“Nope. Place is clear. Let’s go inside.”
We followed him, holding hands. For some reason, I didn’t want to let go again. I knew we were safe, but I didn’t want to risk it, which was crazy. I’d never felt so madly fucked up over a girl before, but there she was: Lacey, perfect Lacey.
Inside, the cabin was small and dusty. It obviously hadn’t been used in a long time. It was simply furnished, with a kitchen to the left, six cots along the right wall, and a simple table in the center of the large open room. Another door probably led to the bathroom.
“Home sweet home,” Jared said and sat down on a cot.
I sat at the table. “Time to talk, Jared.”
“Yeah. I figured.” He looked away and grunted.
“Time to tell me who you really are.”
“Like I said, I can’t.”
“You expect me to keep doing your shit if you can’t tell me who you are?”
“Already took a risk saving your miserable life.”
“You’re the assholes who put him in danger to begin with,” Lacey cut in.