by Hamel, B. B.
“Calm down, Lace,” he said as he walked toward the front, my body thrown over his shoulder like it was nothing.
“Put me down, you psycho!”
I punched his back a few times, shocked he’d actually grab me like this. While I was outraged, there was a part of me that was beyond excited. I could feel how wet I was already, which only made me more angry and embarrassed.
“I told you I had to do this.”
“You can’t just pick someone up whenever you want.”
He grunted and adjusted his grip, throwing me farther over his shoulder. I let out a gasp and a small yell and started to punch him in the back even harder.
“Put me down, you fucking asshole.”
“Stop punching me,” he grunted as he moved fast toward the front door.
“Is everything okay?”
I looked up at the owner of the Salty Whale, Mr. Ellsworth. He was an old man, easily in his seventies, maybe his eighties. He wore the same dress slacks and dress shirt every day, and his hair was a shock of white cotton puff dropped on his wrinkly head. His eyes were narrowed at Camden and me as Camden blew past him.
“We’re fine,” I called out at Mr. Ellsworth. “This is my asshole stepbrother.”
Camden just grunted and kept moving, completely ignoring Mr. Ellsworth. He crossed the room in what seemed like three steps while I continued to punch him in the back and yell at him, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem to feel it as he pushed through the front door one-handed and barreled over toward the car. I felt like I was floating, locked against his hard body. It simultaneously excited and angered the shit out of me.
He dropped me back on the ground. Rage flowed through me, making me see red, all excitement gone. Who the fuck did he think he was, picking me up like a child and throwing me over his shoulder? I reached back my hand and whipped it at his face, but he moved even faster than I thought possible and caught my wrist a few inches from his cheek.
“You’ll thank me later,” he growled at me.
“Let me hit you and I’ll thank you.”
“Get in the car.” He nodded and I followed his gaze.
The look on my dad’s face drew me up short. It was pure fear and worry, and he was looking around the parking lot like someone was going to follow us any second. Meanwhile, Camden’s mom was crying softly to herself and staring down into her lap. Another man, gruff looking like Camden, was sitting in the passenger seat.
“What’s going on?” I said, and Camden let my hand drop.
“Told you. Mexicans caught up to us.” He gave me a gentle push toward the car. “Get in and I’ll explain.”
“Why is Lynn crying?”
“Lacey,” he said, exasperated. “Get in or I swear I’ll shove you in head first.”
I found myself moving toward the car, compelled by some invisible force. Whatever humor or lightness in his voice from earlier in the day was completely gone, replaced by a business-like seriousness that seemed totally out of his character. Or at least it used to be. I realized I didn’t know the new Camden. Although I saw his old self there in everything he did, there was a new aspect to him overshadowing that old self completely.
He pulled open the door for me and I climbed in.
“Lacey,” Dad said, wrapping me in a hug.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Camden shut the door and walked around the car, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Took too long,” the man I didn’t recognize said.
“Shut up, Trip.” Camden put the car in gear and pulled out of the spot.
“It was so horrible,” Lynn mumbled.
“Dad?” I asked him.
“We need to go with Camden now, sweetie.”
The fear in his voice sent a jolt of lightning through my core.
Was it really true, everything he told me?
There was no way. It was too wild, too insane. And yet the look on Lynn’s face and the fear in my dad’s voice both suggested that something real and really bad was going on.
Camden pulled out of the parking lot and started to head west toward the border of town. He was driving fast but not dangerously, and his gaze didn’t stray an inch from the road.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I snapped.
The man called Trip turned around and looked at me, a sheepish smile on his face.
“Everything’s okay,” he said.
“Who the hell is this?” I asked my dad.
He shook his head. “Friend of Camden’s.”
“I’m Trip.”
“I swear I’m climbing out of this car in one second if someone doesn’t start talking.”
“I already told you,” Camden said loudly. “The cartel is here and we need to get out of town.”
I looked at my dad, and the look on his face all but confirmed it.
“What happened?” I asked him softly.
“We had no clue,” he said slowly. “I answered the door, assuming it was just someone trying to sell something. They came in and tied us up, started to threaten us, said they’d kill us if we didn’t find Camden.”
He paused and looked away. A stone the size of the Rocky Mountains lodged itself into my guts.
“That can’t be real.”
He looked back. “Camden showed up. He killed the guys holding us captive and here we are.”
I looked at Camden. “You killed someone?”
He didn’t look back at me. “Only because I had to.”
Lynn began to cry harder and Dad turned to comfort her, speaking softly into her ear.
“We need to call the police,” I said.
“No cops,” Trip and Camden both said at the same time.
“They can help us,” I said, confused. Why wouldn’t we call the police? Why were we just driving when Camden had killed someone?
“No, they can’t,” Camden said. “Trip, you explain.”
Trip looked back at me, still smiling his sheepish smile. I wanted to smack it off his face but kept myself under control.
“If the cops come, me and Camden are going away. Once in prison, we’ll get shanked in some dirty shower one night, and you all will get murdered in your beds.”
“That can’t be true. The police can protect us.”
“No, they can’t. The cartels have more money, time, and manpower than any police agency. Now that two of theirs are dead, El Tiburon won’t stop until he gets revenge.”
“El Tiburon? Is that a joke?” My brain wracked itself for what I remembered from Spanish class, but it couldn’t find anything.
He shrugged. “Cartel leaders like to have nicknames. His means ‘The Shark.’”
I sat back in my seat, shock washing over me in waves. Lynn continued to cry and Dad continued to comfort her while Camden stared at the road stone-faced and Trip fiddled with the radio.
I stared out the window, practically numb. This couldn’t be happening. Camden just came back, out of nowhere, and suddenly he was bringing down the wrath of some random Mexican drug cartel. Not to mention he was murdering people now, too.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry, Lace,” Camden said.
I glared at him. “Don’t talk to me. You did this to us.”
His expression didn’t change. “I know. And I’m sorry this is happening.”
“Great, Camden is sorry yet again. How many times do you get to royally fuck our lives up before you just go away for good?”
“Damn,” Trip muttered.
Camden was silent for a minute. “I’m going to fix this,” he said finally.
“Yeah? Are you going to somehow go back in time so Lynn doesn’t have to be totally traumatized? Are you going to make this cartel magically go away?”
“I’m going to fix it,” he repeated, and the car fell into silence.
As we got onto the highway, heading west, driving fast away from town, I realized that all of my plans had changed irrevocably. I
t seemed almost trite and silly to realize that my summer plans were all out the window, but I had been banking on a certain kind of life.
Now, suddenly and without warning, Camden was back and we were on the run from Mexican gangsters. No matter what happened, nothing was ever going to be the same for us again. My life was changed forever.
All because of him. That bastard, that self-absorbed, cocky asshole. No matter how he made me feel when he was around, he ruined everything. He was an unstoppable hurricane, even years ago. He did whatever he wanted and didn’t care about the consequences.
Suddenly, my whole life was a consequence of his stupid mistakes. We were all getting dragged down.
And yet, for as angry and shocked as I was, part of me believed we’d make it out alive.
If there was anyone in the world that could fix our fucked-up situation, it was him. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was him.
Chapter Six: Camden
I hated that look on her face.
It was pure loathing and scorn. I knew I deserved it, knew I was bringing more pain and horror into my family’s lives than they deserved, but it still hurt. Of everyone in the world, I cared about what Lacey thought of me, and clearly she thought I was a piece of shit at the moment.
Who could blame her, though? My poor mother was busy going through full-on post-traumatic stress in the backseat as we sped out of town. And as far as Lacey was concerned, I was a murderer.
I felt slightly better once we were on the highway. I knew that Castillo’s men wouldn’t try to run us off the road, and we’d be relatively safe if we stayed off the grid and were careful. Still, they knew where we were, and it was very possible that they could catch up to us at any moment.
“Cam,” Trip said softly. “I think we should talk about this plan.”
I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?”
He shook his head, glancing into the backseat. It was clear that he meant, not in front of them.
“Anyone need a break?” I asked the car.
“I’m starving myself,” Trip said.
Nobody else answered.
“Okay. We’ll stop off at the next rest stop.”
Trip gave me a look but I ignored him, keeping my eyes locked on the road.
Lacey was staring out the back window, her face a mask of anger and confusion. I had no clue what was running through her mind, but I was sure it wasn’t good.
After all, I was a selfish hurricane leaving destruction in my wake. And I couldn’t even deny that. Truth was, ever since I left for Mexico, I’d been seeing more and more the truth of who and what I was becoming.
Things changed. I was trying to do something different, something good. But I couldn’t tell them all about it, not yet at least. My handlers had sworn me to secrecy, and I was afraid of losing what privileges I still had by telling everyone the total truth.
We drove on in silence until I spotted the first rest stop. I pulled off toward the bland, squat building, the parking lot full of bored and tired people who only wanted to get where they were going. Rest stops were both necessary and bizarre. Nobody went to a rest stop as a destination, and yet there were plenty of people there at all times, either working or waiting.
I pulled into a spot well away from the other cars and cut the engine.
“Should we be stopping?” Jeff asked.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Go use the bathroom if you guys need to. We’re not stopping again for a while.”
Lacey climbed out of the car and stalked off toward the building without a word. Jeff and my Mom followed her silently, staring ahead like zombies.
I climbed out and leaned against the hood of the car. Trip stood in front of me, his arms crossed.
“Shit situation,” he said.
“No kidding.”
“Folks seem to be taking it well.”
“They watched me kill a guy.”
“They’ll get over it.” He paused. “They saw me kill the other. And it’s not like you had a choice.”
“About that,” I said, standing up. “Where were you back there?”
“Told you. I had to take a piss break.”
“One hell of a piss break.”
“Look, I’m sorry. You know I’m not built for long stakeouts.”
I clenched my jaw. I wanted to hit him, but he had helped save my life back during the shootout.
“You can’t fuck up like that again.”
“I know, Cam.”
“If the cartel doesn’t kill you, I will.”
He grinned. “Loud and clear, captain.”
I wanted to keep pressing, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. It wasn’t worth going over and over the same ground. We had to move forward. “Okay. Why did you want to stop?”
“Well, there’s the matter of our plan.”
“You mean that completely fucked thing that’s basically useless now?”
“Yeah, that,” he said, laughing.
“I’ve been thinking about it.” I looked back at the building, frowning, and then back at Trip. “I think we should split up.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“The Mexicans only have so many guys. They can’t track us both effectively.”
“But we’ll be more vulnerable if we split up.”
“True. We just have to make sure we don’t get caught.”
He frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“What was your idea then?”
“Can’t really say I have one.”
“You take my parents,” I said, “and I’ll take Lacey.”
“Good luck with that. Girl seems to despise you.”
“Do you fucking blame her?” I leaned back up against the car again with a grunt.
“Nah, I don’t. Why don’t you just tell them about the agency?”
“You know we can’t do that.”
“Cam, man, the fucking CIA doesn’t give a shit about us anymore.”
“Maybe. But if we start telling state secrets and shit like that, we’re completely on our own.”
“We’re on our own right now.”
“I’m not so sure we are.”
“Look, Cam. Tell the girl at least. Maybe it’ll help her hate you a little less.”
I sighed and shook my head. Trip didn’t understand and he never would. He didn’t know about my past with Lacey and how she made me feel every time she was around. To him, we were just stepbrother and stepsister. But in my mind she was still Lacey, the girl I’d had a crush on ever since I first met her, the girl I thought about every time I jerked off. The girl I let go.
“Maybe,” I said, shrugging.
After that, we talked about where we would go. Trip decided he’d take a shot at crossing the Canadian border right away and try to travel that way. He’d cut north, which meant his trip would be shorter than mine. I was going to move through America until we hit the coast, and then start traveling north from there.
It was going to be a long trip. Alaska was far, far away from Hammond, especially by car. We were looking at a week, possibly more, assuming we drove at least eight hours a day. And since Trip was taking a more direct route, he was going to get there a few days before I did.
Which was good, since they were his people and he needed to make contact.
As we finalized our plans, Lacey and our parents walked back up to us. Lynn looked marginally more interested, though Lacey still had an awful scowl on her face.
“We need to talk,” Jeff said.
Trip grinned at me and stepped away.
“What’s up, Jeff? We need to get moving.”
“First, tell us what’s happening.”
I nodded. “We’re going to Juneau, Alaska. Trip knows some people there, people that can keep us safe.”
He frowned, looking skeptical. “How do you know that’s true?”
“Trip is as fucked as we are.”
Trip raised an eyebrow, pretending like he hadn’t heard.
“Then we wait.”
“How long?”
“Weeks, months. Maybe years.”
“We can’t just hide out in Alaska for a few years. We have a life.”
“I know, Jeff. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.”
“Me and Lynn were talking. What if we called the police but you guys left?”
“Not happening.”
“We’ll take the risk. We understand.”
“Listen to me, Jeff,” I said, getting in his face. “If you leave with Lynn right now, you will die. But not quickly. The Mexicans will torture you for information about me first, and you’ll give it to them. Then I’m fucked and you’re fucked and we’re all dead.”
“It can’t be that simple,” he said, exasperated.
“It’s that fucking simple.” I looked at Lacey and Lynn. “Anything else?”
“When did you become such an asshole?” Lacey asked.
I ignored her. “We have a new plan.”
“Great,” she mumbled.
“We’re splitting up.”
They looked stunned and angry all at once.
“Absolutely not,” Jeff said.
“I’m not splitting up from anyone,” Lynn nearly yelled.
“You changed,” Lacey whispered, shaking her head.
“Calm down,” I said loudly, raising my hands. “Listen to me. We’re still meeting in Juneau in a few days, but we’re going different ways. Jeff and Lynn, you’re going with Trip.” I looked at Lacey and gave her my best grin, almost loving her reaction. “And you’re with me, Lacey girl.”
“No, thanks,” Lacey said. “I’m not going anywhere with just you.”
“It’s for the best,” Trip said, rejoining the group.
Jeff and Lynn spoke at the same time, both saying how they’d rather call the police, how they’d rather take their chances, the police can surely help, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew they were in shock and didn’t understand how serious their situation was, but they were being such stubborn idiots.
“Enough,” I said, yelling over them. “Get in the fucking car right now.”
Jeff blinked. “Don’t talk to us that way. We’re just scared.”
