Sins & Needles(47)

The girl ran out into the halls and went straight for the girl’s bathroom, the safest place for any teenage girl to hole up and cry. But as she sat huddled above the toilet, the tears wouldn’t come. She was so angry, so livid. Justification? Oh, she was more justified than ever now.

She waited until the bell rang signaling the last class of the day. She had ten minutes to get to her social studies class. Ten minutes to get through the halls and put on a brave face.

Only she couldn’t go straight to class because she had to get her textbook from the locker. She gathered some strength, pushed her long blonde hair behind her ears, and marched out into the hall as smoothly as her leg would allow. She looked straight ahead, avoiding any stares that were coming her way, those predictable glances of pity, and went to her locker. The guy next to her was putting something away and gave her a quick smile as she approached. So far so good.

Then she felt it. That presence. She always felt it, wherever she was. She wished she had noticed it that day during gym class. This whole thing could have been avoided.

With her heart in her throat, she turned around and looked Camden McQueen right into his bespectacled eyes, their brilliant blue color magnified by the glasses. She expected him to be angry or sad or even apologetic after she’d yelled at him in front of everyone. But his eyes were blank, as if every feeling inside him had been sucked away and he was just an empty bag. He was as cold as the metal locker her back was now pressed against.

“You’re a bad person, Ellie,” he said without a trace of irony.

She watched him carefully, like a trap ready to spring.

“I’m not bad. The world is bad and I’m just trying to survive in it.”

He smiled, both sad and self-righteous.

“And that’s why I chose you,” he whispered, leaning in so close she had to flatten against the locker.

Then, after he searched her eyes for a few torturous moments, he whipped around and took off down the hall. He walked as if he’d just won something, but in the girl’s opinion, they both had lost.





Now





I never thought I’d be able to fall asleep with my hands cuffed behind my back, but I guess when the body is tired, the body is tired. And I was fucking exhausted.

When I woke up, the sun was already up and birds were chirping outside the window like they were welcoming the day with open wings. I was welcoming the day by feeling scared, stupid, and ashamed. I was lying in Camden’s bed for the second time in a row, only there was no hunky, naked man in bed with me. No, the hunky naked man was dressed and sitting in the corner of the room, poised regally in an armchair.

My eyes squinted from the light. From the way he was positioned by the window, he almost looked angelic. But angels don’t have tattoos and they certainly don’t have guns in their hands.

I sat up slowly with burning abs, the flannel sheets falling away from me. I supposed he had covered me up in the middle of the night. How nice of him.

“Good morning,” he said, as if we were old friends. Old friends that didn’t want to kill each other.

I glared at him. “Is the gun really necessary?”

“No,” he admitted. “It’s just fun to have one.”

“Like an extra penis,” I mused.

He smiled unkindly. “Something like that.”

I leaned over, rounding my back and letting out a moan of pain. I’d never felt so sore and stiff before. I was sure the cuffs had carved deep lines into my wrists.

“How did you sleep?”

“How do you think I slept?” I snapped without looking up at him. “You have my hands cuffed behind my back. I’m being held hostage here against my will and I have no idea what the hell you have planned for me.”

He chuckled. “You’re not being held hostage. You’re free to go. In fact...” I heard him get up and walk over to me. “You’re right. You shouldn’t be cuffed.”

I cocked my head to the side and looked up at him. He had put the gun down on the armchair, brought a pair of keys out of his pocket, and began fiddling with the handcuffs. With a joyous click, they opened up and my wrists felt sharp air and cool relief.

He removed them and tossed them onto his oak dresser where they landed with a clatter.

“There. Better?”

I examined my wrists. They were raw and stung a little but were mainly undamaged. “Not really. I suppose there’s a price for letting me go?”

He went into a wide-legged stance with crossed arms and tilted his chin down at me. “There’s a price for everything. We still have a deal, remember? You’ll help me because I need your help, and because the other two choices are…the greater of the evils. You won’t run away because I’ve got all the proof to put you behind bars ready to go at the click of a button. If you run, you’ll never escape, and all the lives you’ve tried to create will be ruined.”