by Hamel, B. B.
Camden left us. He never said a single word. Lynn was a mess after he left, called every hospital, mental ward, and police station in a fifty-mile radius. She organized search parties to comb through the local parks and woods for any sign of him. She even hired a private detective to try to track him down. Even when everyone said hope was lost, she kept trying, calling more and more places, sending out his description online, everything.
Eventually, she was forced to move on. Life got in the way. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, but gradually. Bit by bit she became used to Camden not being around, and eventually she accepted that he was never coming home. The pain was probably still there, but it was less. She could handle it.
And then he showed back up on our doorstep, just like that.
After everything he put my family through.
I was pissed. I was so angry I could barely understand it.
“Fuck off, asshole,” I said.
I loved the look on his face as I slammed the door shut and stormed back into the house.
Chapter Two: Camden
I’d had a lot of doors slammed in my face.
Some by ex-girlfriends, some by jaded ex-employers. One or two by victims. But never had it bothered me so much as when Lacey did it.
I meant it when I said she looked good. I hadn’t seen her pretty face in a very long time, though I had thought about it a lot. When you disappeared to Mexico, you didn’t tend to come back. Most people stayed lost.
But I wasn’t like most people.
I left all those years ago to protect my family. Now, well, I guess I hadn’t changed all that much.
I rang the doorbell again, sighing.
“Go the fuck away,” I heard her yell again from inside.
“Open up, Lacey. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
I grinned to myself as I heard her huff and stomp away. I rang the doorbell again and again, glancing around the neighborhood. I had to be careful. I couldn’t draw too much attention to myself. People knew me in Hammond, knew what kind of person I was.
But they had no clue what kind of person I had become.
Finally, after the fifth ring, the door pulled open.
My heart hammered in my chest. “Hey, Mom.”
She stared at me. I hadn’t seen her in four years, not since the day I’d left, but there she was, basically unchanged. I had thought about her a lot over the years, figured I had hurt her pretty badly. But I couldn’t risk contacting her and putting her in danger.
“Camden?” she said softly.
I smiled sheepishly. “I’m home.”
She stared for half a second more before throwing her arms around me. “I can’t believe it,” she said, choking back a sob.
I returned her hug. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“I knew you weren’t dead,” she said. “I never gave up on you.”
“Mom, can we do this inside?”
She stepped back and looked at me. “God, you’ve grown up so much.”
“Come on. You can fawn over me inside.”
She nodded and gestured for me to follow.
“Jeff!” she yelled out. “Jeff, it’s Camden!”
“What are you yelling about?” he grumbled as he walked into the kitchen. “And why is Lacey—” He stopped when he spotted me leaning up against the counters. “Holy shit. Camden.”
“Hey, Jeff.”
He stared. “What are you doing here?”
“Jeff,” my mom snapped.
“It’s okay. I’ll explain everything. I promise.”
“We’re just so, so happy you’re back.” Mom threw her arms around me again, hugging me like I was going to disappear any second. I didn’t blame her. She probably figured I was pretty likely to make another break for it. But little did she know that I was back for good, but I wasn’t bringing good news.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“How? Where have you been? Why are you back?” Jeff fired off at me.
I knew they were going to have questions. Hell, they’d be crazy if they didn’t wonder where I had gone.
But the problem was, I couldn’t tell them. Not everything, not right away. It was for their protection more than anything else. It would have been so much easier to tell everyone every little gory detail of my fucked-up life the past four years, but I needed them to trust me. They definitely wouldn’t trust me if they knew where I’d been and what I’d been doing.
So I had to tell some lies.
“Jail, mostly,” I said to him.
He narrowed his eyes. “We checked all the jails.”
“Not here. Mexico.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing there?”
I nodded at the kitchen table. “Let’s sit down.”
Once Mom was comfortably seated and no longer hyperventilating, I launched into my mostly fabricated tale. I told them about running away to Mexico that night in order to start a new life. I told them about stealing cars in Chicago, about getting caught, and about starting up again across the border. I told them it was my only choice, either I stay or I run.
Then I told them the lies. I told them about getting arrested, about going to jail. I told them about getting out and going back in not long later. And I told them that I was cleaned up, had learned my lesson, was completely done with the illegal shit.
That last part wasn’t true. Not by a long shot. I was knee-deep in illegal shit, though for good reasons.
As I finished, Mom and Jeff stared at me.
“So you really fucked yourself over,” Lacey said.
I looked over and saw her leaning against the doorframe.
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Why’d you get caught twice?”
“Stupidity, mostly.”
“Why not run again?”
“The Mexican police aren’t like they are here. They don’t wait for arrest warrants.”
“So what makes you think you’re welcome back here?”
“Lacey,” my mom said.
“She’s right, Lynn,” Jeff cut in. “We have a life now.”
She stared at the two of them. “This is my son,” she said. “Lacey, he’s your brother now. I don’t care what he did. I’m just happy he’s not dead.”
I held up my hands. “Hold on, Mom. They’re not wrong to be angry.” I paused and grinned at Lacey. “Right, sis?”
“Damn right we’re pissed,” Lacey said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I was glad Mom and Jeff got married, though I wasn’t sure how I felt about being Lacey’s stepbrother. I definitely didn’t think of her like a sister. The dirty thoughts swirling through my brain as I stared at her arms crossed over her breasts defiantly would have definitely been inappropriate even before we were related.
“I don’t expect to be taken in just like that,” I said.
“Good,” Jeff replied. “Because that’s not happening.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Mom said.
“Mom, please. It’s okay if they’re mad. I just wanted to drop by and say hello.”
“You’re not staying?” She looked almost crushed.
“I have a room nearby.”
“But you’ll stay for dinner.”
I shook my head. “I think you guys need time to get used to this.”
“What about the authorities here?” Jeff cut in. “Aren’t you still wanted?”
“Not exactly. I heard they arrested someone else for the car stuff.”
“But you could be in trouble still,” Lacey said.
“It’s a possibility.”
“You can’t leave us so soon,” my mom said.
I crouched down next to her and took her hand. “Listen, Mom. I promise that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
She nodded. “I’m so, so happy you’re home.”
“Me too.”
Jeff and Lacey both watched me suspiciously, but I didn’t care. I needed to keep my mom calm, or at
least as calm as I could make her, before the shit really hit the fan.
I stood up and looked at Jeff. “I’m glad you married her.”
“Me too,” he grunted.
“I should get going.” I started walking toward the door. My mom stood and followed.
“How can I reach you?” she asked.
“Room 101 at the Lincoln Motel. I don’t have a cellphone yet, but that’s where I’m staying.”
“Come back soon,” she said.
I hugged her again. “I will. I promise.”
I moved out the front door before she could stop me, heading toward my car. All in all, that little visit went way better than expected. I figured there’d be more yelling, maybe some cursing, and definitely some thrown objects. Instead, my mom seemed shocked and happy, and Jeff was suspicious at best. Lacey, well, Lacey was a whole different issue.
I didn’t hear her sneak up behind me until she spoke. “I don’t believe your story.”
I turned and grinned at her. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, and I had the irrational and insane desire to kiss her. She looked so fucking sexy glaring at me angrily.
I missed that pout. I missed that serious expression. Fuck, I missed everything about her. She had no idea how many times I had thought of her in the dead of night down in Mexico.
There’d been plenty of other women. There had to be, considering what I was doing down there. I couldn’t afford to look weak in front of my employers. But there hadn’t been a single woman that held a candle to Lacey, even the Lacey that I knew, the girl from high school.
I regretted a lot from those days. I regretted the way I drifted away from her, the way I treated her. I hated that I couldn’t see what I had right in front of my face. Instead, I went looking for more exciting things, more drugs and more parties. I wanted to live life to the fullest. I wanted to burn out instead of fading away.
But that was stupid.
All of that shit, it all led me down to Mexico and into my current situation. It only got me more danger, more heartache and sadness, more pain and regret and death.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Seems too easy. You were in a jail for four years and we never heard about it?”
“It’s Mexico. They’re not exactly great at keeping records.”
“Still. Lynn and Dad tried to find you, even hired a private investigator. There’s no way he wouldn’t find you down there.”
“Maybe he wasn’t as good as he said he was. Plus, I wasn’t using my real name.”
“Still. White guy in a Mexican prison? Not exactly hard to find.”
I shook my head. “There’s a surprising number of gringos in prison down there.” I stepped close to her, loving the way she reacted to me. “What do you want me to say, Lacey? That you’re right? That I’m lying?”
“I just want the truth from you for once in your miserable life.”
I sighed. I wanted to tell her so badly, but it was too soon.
“I already gave you the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t want to listen.”
“It is your fault, actually. It’s your fault you ran away and your fault you came back.” She paused and stepped back. “I wish you had stayed dead.”
I reached for something to say but found nothing. Instead, I just grinned at her. “Good seeing you too, Lace.”
She turned and walked back up toward the house. I watched her ass, remembering how badly I used to want to grab it and press her body against mine, and felt that old desire come whirling back through me.
She had always been stubborn. That was part of what I liked about her. She was smart and strong-willed and absolutely sexy when she wanted to be. Hell, she was fucking gorgeous and probably didn’t realize it.
I waited until she was safely back inside before I crossed the street and headed back down the block.
Up ahead, I caught sight of Trip’s black Nissan parked up against the curb. I walked up and pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in.
“How was it, Lazarus?”
I shrugged. “Not bad. They took my resurrection better than I thought they would.”
Trip laughed and turned on the engine. He was a few years older than me, a few inches shorter, and a few pounds heavier, but every bit as capable. We met when I first came to town in Mexico City, and we had been partners ever since.
Partners in everything, including the shit storm that was slowly building in the distance.
“Catch any sightings?” I asked him.
“Nah. Perimeter’s all quiet.”
“Good. I’ll take first watch if you want to head back.”
“Fine with me.”
I leaned back in my seat and he looked at me for a second.
“It’s weird being home,” I said.
“You’re telling me. But at least you got a home.”
“Please. You’ve been an orphan forever. The street’s your home.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
I laughed. “How long do you think we have?”
“A few days at most. We got a good head start, but you know Castillo.”
I grunted and shook my head. Jorge “El Tiburon” Castillo was our old employer, and the current leader of the largest narcotics cartel in all of Mexico. They specialized in crystal meth but dabbled in heroine and marijuana as well.
Castillo was a terrifying man. I hated working for him, and so did Trip, but we did what we had to do to survive. I had learned a lot working with the cartel, plus a lot on the side, but he wasn’t called “The Shark” for nothing. El Tiburon was tenacious, nasty, violent, and a little bit insane. He wasn’t the sort of man you crossed and expected to live, no matter how far or how fast you ran.
He was never going to let Trip and me get away.
“See you in a few hours,” I said, climbing out of the car.
Trip rolled down the windows. “Don’t do anything stupid, Cam.”
“You know me,” I said, grinning. “I’m as careful as they come.”
“Seriously, man. We’re not in Mexico anymore. You can’t get away with shit up in the States.”
“I know. I’m just keeping an eye on them.”
“A few days,” he reminded me. “Then we have to go.”
“I’ll have them ready.”
“I hope so. Otherwise, I’m out of here.”
He rolled up the window and pulled away.
I never expected Trip to come with me. Frankly, the second we crossed the border I assumed he would high-tail it up north the second he could. He had contacts in Alaska, people we had worked with who could hide us until our handlers came up with a way to extract our asses from danger, and I figured he’d go right there. I knew my own people and could probably make a run for it without him.
But he stuck with me. Trip didn’t have family like I did. He grew up in New York, ripping off tourists and snorting coke at the age of twelve. He only knew a life on the run, stealing when he could and robbing people when he couldn’t. He was a criminal through and through.
He owed me, though. He owed me a lot, and it seemed like he was more loyal than I gave him credit for.
I walked back toward the house and stopped at the corner. I leaned up against a light pole and made sure I had a good sightline to the house.
Now the boring part started. They weren’t nearly ready to do what they had to do, and I needed to give them time to adjust to the idea of my being alive. Trip was right, though. It was only a matter of a few days before Castillo caught up to us, but in the meantime I had to play it right.
My mom was happy to see me, but that was going to wear off. Soon, she’d have questions, most of which I couldn’t answer without more lies. I knew my little visit was quick and shocking, and maybe I should have stayed longer, but it was hard. Being back in Hammond was dredging up more strange emotions than I thought I had left.
The way Lacey looked at me made me want to leave. But it was also that same look that made me want
to make sure they were all going to be safe, no matter what.
I fingered the gun in my waistband, feeling its reassuring heft and hardness.
Only a matter of days. I had to make sure they were going to be safe. Even if they hated me for it, I was going to keep Castillo away from my family.
I leaned back farther, preparing myself for a long and boring evening.
Chapter Three: Lacey
I rolled out of bed early the next morning, eyes bleary from not sleeping well.
I couldn’t get him out of my head. The way he looked, so confident and cocky, yet still so handsome, drove me insane. It was like he had shed any bit of youthful uncertainty and had turned into this totally different man.
He both was and wasn’t the Camden that left four years ago. I wasn’t sure if Lynn saw it or not; she was probably just too happy that he was alive, and wasn’t looking too deeply into the situation. But there was definitely something new and intriguing about him, as much as I hated to admit it.
Why was he back? Sure, he had a story, but I didn’t believe it. I’d been suckered by his lies too many times in the past to just accept what he said at face value. I wanted to believe he was telling the truth, wanted desperately to believe that he got out of jail and decided to come right home, a changed man. But there was something else in him, something that couldn’t be explained by a long stay in a prison.
I wasn’t sure exactly what that was yet. But I had a feeling I was going to find out sooner or later. Say one thing for Camden, as infuriating as he could be, he rarely disappointed.
I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom, starting to get ready. A quick glance at the clock told me that I was running a little behind schedule and had to hustle.
Back in high school, I worked part time at a used bookstore. As luck would have it, the owner was looking for a little extra help during the summer. Since I needed something to do, I applied and was hired on the spot.
I had to admit, after all the craziness of college life, the bookstore was a nice change of pace. It didn’t get much traffic, and the owner was a really decent guy, which meant that I had plenty of time for reading between stocking and running the register. He wasn’t creepy, either, which was more than I could say for most of my bosses in the past.
