by Hamel, B. B.
“Maybe. College just doesn’t seem like it’s the thing for me.”
“What’s for you, then?”
“I don’t know.” He threw another rock and I watched his biceps flex. “Working on cars, maybe.”
“Sure. But you’ll have to stop stealing them first.”
He laughed. “I don’t steal cars. Not officially, anyway.” He looked at me, grinning. “You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
“Me. You wish you could be so free. You’re like this tightly wound clock that’s constantly running out of time.” He shifted his weight and faced me.
“Nice metaphor for an idiot.”
“Thanks. But that’s why you’re so into me. You like that I’m free.”
“I’m not sure that’s it.”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. “You’re right. It’s probably my good looks and charm.”
“You’re as charming as an old tire.”
“Didn’t you just get done saying how smart I am and how much people like me?”
“I was lying. I had a stroke. Help, help, I forget where I am.”
His grin widened as he pulled me tighter against him. My heart was hammering in my chest.
“Good one. But don’t forget,” he said, soft as cotton, “I’m the free one. And all my time is borrowed.”
If only I could have convinced him back then. If only he could see what others saw in him. Instead, he wasn’t going to see anything anymore.
Two minutes passed, or maybe an hour, I wasn’t sure. The room was brightly lit by a single bare bulb, which meant time essentially didn’t pass until it all rushed to catch up in one painful and sudden moment.
I was deep in my memories when the door pushed open. It slowly creaked toward me and a single man walked in, shutting it behind him.
“Good evening, pretty girl,” Brent said.
He was short and stocky, all fat and muscle. He grinned at me this disgusting grin, and I realized that he was missing a few teeth. He had looked harmless enough when I first saw him all those hours ago, but suddenly he looked downright evil. He walked over to me, leaving his rifle leaned up against the wall near the door.
“Rare we get pretty girls here,” he said. “I see a whore in the city, but she isn’t like you.” He stood behind me, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
“You smell nice,” he said, sniffing the crown of my head. “Like flowers. You like flowers?”
I wanted to scream, but the duct tape was still firmly over my mouth.
“So, you be quiet now, yes? You be good and I won’t hurt you.” He paused and leaned into my vision. “Much.”
I began to struggle and he laughed. He unstrapped my right hand from the chair but held my wrist as I tried to hit him. He unstrapped my other hand, grabbing my wrist before I could punch him. He laughed as he tipped the chair over, smashing me onto my side.
My head bumped off the ground and I saw stars. Groggily, I felt him begin to unstrap my ankles.
“Like I said, don’t fight and I won’t hurt you too much.”
I felt my other ankle come free, and I desperately began to crawl away. I heard him cackling behind me and moved, trying to get to the gun that rested near the door. I was so close, maybe two feet away, when I felt him grab me by the feet and drag me back to the other side of the room.
“That won’t save you,” he said, unbuckling his pants.
I began to thrash and fight and he frowned at me. He pulled his belt off and hit me once in the face with the buckle. I tried to cry out, but the tape over my mouth muffled the sound.
“I don’t want to do that,” he said. “But you’re making this hard. I don’t want it to be hard. I like simple.”
I moved away from him, cowering against the wall, sobs beginning to wrack my chest again. I wanted Camden, needed him to save me, but he was gone and I was gone. I could feel my soul draining out through my chest, pooling onto the concrete flood as Brent pulled his pants and his underwear down, revealing his hard dick.
It was small and thick and covered in coarse hair, and he laughed as I cowered away from him. He repulsed me, made me want to vomit. He began to pull at my pants, tugging them down my hips, and I struggled at first. Another punch to my gut, though, knocked every ounce of resistance out of me. I was nothing; my body was just a shell. I was ready to give in to whatever was happening. Nothing mattered anymore, anyway. Camden was gone and I was going to be gone soon, too.
He got my pants down around my ankles and smiled. “So pretty. Such pretty panties.” He quickly pulled them down.
“What a pretty little puss—”
Suddenly, a thump filled my ears, and Brent’s skull exploded against the wall. Blood dripped down the bare concrete as his body slumped backward.
Terror filled me and I began to scream and crawl away from Brent’s motionless corpse.
“Lacey, it’s okay. I’m here.”
His voice filled my ears. I shook my head and shut my eyes, not wanting to believe.
“It’s okay, Lace.” I felt the tape on my mouth get slowly tugged off. I gasped and opened my eyes again.
Camden’s concerned smile filled my vision.
“You’re dead,” I whispered.
“I’m not so easy to kill,” he said, shaking his head.
I kissed him. I kissed him hard, throwing my arms around him. He kissed me back just as frantically, needing and hungry. I had to prove it was him, really him, not some phantom. I didn’t care if I was dead, so long as it was really Camden, kissing me back.
Someone cleared his throat loudly from the doorway.
Camden pulled back.
“We have to go,” the man’s voice said.
“Look away, asshole,” Camden answered.
I looked over. Standing there, shielding his eyes and smiling sheepishly, was a man close to my dad’s age with light blond hair cropped short. He was wearing loose green khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. He looked completely unremarkable, except he was holding a silenced pistol. Just like the pistol Camden was holding, I realized.
“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.
16
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 climbed 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.