So basically what he was telling me was that I was already in a prison. Sure, you couldn’t see it, but I was stuck with him, stuck within these white walls until he decided to let me go. If he ever decided to let me go.
“All right then,” I said slowly, pulling the flannel sheets up to my collarbone. From where he was standing he had a clear view down my shirt and I didn’t want my hostage-taker to be getting any special privileges. Not anymore.
“So,” I said, “when you’re finished blackmailing me, what do you plan on doing with me?”
“You mean after you help me?”
I nodded brusquely.
“Then we part ways.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And is parting ways a euphemism for something else? Say, killing me?”
He looked disappointed in what I said. “No, Ellie. It means parting ways. It means you go one way and I go another. You head east and I head west.”
“We’re about as west as we can go already,” I noted, eyeing him curiously. He seemed as sharp as ever but a lot more reasonable than last night. He was still scarily unpredictable, and I knew I’d never underestimate him again, but I felt like this was as good a time as any to find out what the hell our deal was based around.
“No. There’s more west to go.”
“So then, tell me. What’s the deal? What’s your plan? What do you need me to help you with? Is it killing people, because I don’t kill people, Camden. You might think I would because I’m a criminal, but not all criminals are the same, and I swear I do have a set of morals somewhere in my body. You might not see it, but it’s there.”
He gave me a half smile, picked up his gun, and walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s discuss this over coffee.”
I watched him leave, my pulse quickening at his avoidance of the subject, then eased myself out of the bed. “Can I go to the bathroom first?” I asked.
“Sure,” he yelled back from the kitchen. “You won’t find any weapons in there anyway, if that’s what you were planning.”
Actually, all I had was a bladder that was about to burst and hadn’t even thought about attacking him with razor blades or tweezers. What would be the use, anyway? Unless I actually killed Camden, which I wasn’t about to do, hence my worry over his ambiguousness, I really had no escape. He’d probably let me walk straight out of the house, but I was sure that no matter where I went, the police wouldn’t be far behind.
And Uncle Jim. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, forget about him.
When I came out of the bathroom, he was sitting around the kitchen table with a lined memo pad and pen in his hands, a French press full of dark coffee and two orange mugs beside him. The gun was nowhere in sight. He had his glasses on, the thin-rimmed ones I’d seen in his office, and he looked up at me with such apathy that he could have been an accountant about to go over some numbers. You know, if most accountants had a piercing at the end of their nose and wore fitted plaid shirts.
“Coffee?” he asked, nodding his head at the press.
“Yes, I know,” I said in reference to the movie Airplane and took a seat. I pulled a mug toward me and inspected the bottom for any powder or liquids. I couldn’t be too careful.
“Do you always make jokes when you’re nervous?” he asked. I gave him a sharp look. He smiled and folded his hands over the notepad. “Go ahead, I didn’t drug it. I’m not some Bond villain.”
I placed the other mug in front of him. “No, you’re definitely not. You’re just a sadistic freak with control issues.” He flinched, barely susceptible. “I’ll drink it if you’ll drink it.”
He sighed and poured my mug before he poured his own. “I guess our trust was broken a long time ago, wasn’t it?”
We both took a sip at the same time, our eyes glued to each other. “Actually, I had trusted this new Camden McQueen.”
“And now?”
“And now I’ll never make that mistake again,” I said after a mouthful. I still couldn’t get over how Camden pulled a fast one on me. I was no stranger to cons getting conned. I’d been conned a few times before, though you learned to read the warning signs as you went along. You get better. More aware. Sometimes, there were just people who were better at your job then you were. But I never saw Camden coming. I never saw his true motives. I never could have predicted his switch. Sure, there were probably a few signs here and there but I was so wrapped up in my lust for him, my plans for him, and he was always such a strange bird, that they could have meant anything. I had no idea—no idea—that I had hurt this man that badly.