Fuck, I couldn’t move.

“Now!” he screamed in shaking rage.

The shock of his voice made the feeling come back into my limbs. I put the bag down, raised my hands, and slowly got to my feet. I turned to face him, squinting at the flashlight.

I heard the metal click of a handcuff and saw him bring out a pair from his back pocket.

Oh shit.

He raised them in the air. “Now here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to turn around and put your hands behind your back. Then I’m going to cuff you. Don’t you dare try any funny stuff because I just loaded this gun. The bullets are ready to go. I don’t have a problem shooting you if you don’t cooperate. Maybe in your other leg to make things more even.”

Tears pricked my eyes. Shocked wasn’t the right word. It didn’t convey enough of what I was feeling. None of this made sense. This wasn’t the Camden I knew. I didn’t know who the hell this was.

He was terrifying.

“Are you an undercover cop?” I asked, picking up my voice from the floor.

“Turn around, Ellie. I cocked the gun to make a point. The next point I make will involve pulling the trigger.”

I did as he said. As he walked toward me, I ran through my ways out of this. I could chance it. I could predict where his gun was and turn and knock it out of his hands. I could go low and kick him out at the shins. Or the balls. Anything that would get him to drop the gun, anything to reverse the roles.

But I’d never done that to someone with a loaded weapon before. I didn’t trust my reaction time. I couldn’t count on my limbs to do the job. It was too much of a risk and I’d already taken too many.

I felt him stop behind me, his breath tickling the back of my neck. It was no longer erotic, it was horrifying as hell. His hands went for mine and he slowly placed the cold cuffs over my wrists. When they clicked shut, it was the sound of defeat.

“No, I’m not a cop,” he said to my neck. His voice was so flat, so inhuman, he might as well have been a robot. “I’m just a tattoo artist. I’m just a guy who used to be in love with a girl. I’m just a fool who’s been fooled too many times before. I’m just a man who’s finally getting his revenge.”

“You’re a monster,” I spat out.

He laughed, cold and sharp. Then he placed his hand around my throat and squeezed hard. My windpipe crushed, I could barely breathe.

“Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror?” he asked, his voice rising. “Do you like what you see?”

I fought for breath, trying to squirm away under his hand but it only made him tighten his grip. Those wonderful strong fingers would be the death of me.

“I made an assumption about you,” he said, his voice calm again. “And I was right. If I’m a monster, then you must be the creator of them all. You’re my Dr. Frankenstein.”

And like that, he suddenly let go. I bent over, trying to get air into my aching lungs, trying to think past the burn in my throat. My heart was pounding so loudly I was almost deaf.

“Come here,” he said, and grabbed me by the elbow. He threw me roughly into his desk chair where my hands were crushed against the seat. With the gun still on me, he bent down and scooped up the Safeway bag.

“You know, if you needed the money, you could have just asked me.” His voice was a little gentler now. “I would have given it to you, no questions asked.”

“Why?” My hat fell off my head onto the floor and my hair obscured my vision.

He walked over to me, putting the bag on the desk, and crouched down in front of me. Through the strands of hair I could only see the shiny barrel of the gun in his hands.

“Because it would have meant that you changed. That you found the decency to be honest. I would have rewarded you for that.”

Being busted and cuffed with a gun pointed at you isn’t the best time to get annoyed about things outside the big picture. But I couldn’t help but snarl at his patronizing tone.

“How did you know?” I asked stiffly. “How did you know I was going to scam you?”

He smiled. Beautiful. Wicked. “Because the moment I told you I was successful, the moment you saw my shop, the moment you saw the money I brought in, I saw the same look in your eyes that you used to give the popular girls in high school. The very same look you gave them that day in the cafeteria when you turned on me. The day you humiliated me. The look that said ‘opportunity’.”

“So you set me up?” It was too much to take. I couldn’t believe that Camden had been playing me this entire time.

“Yes, I set you up. I hoped you’d fail. I hoped that I’d lie on the couch all night and never hear you breaking into my house. I hoped that you’d prove me wrong, that you liked me for me. But I was right. Fuck, Ellie. I’ve never hated being so right in all my life. You’re a con artist. A liar. A thief. An unredeemable soul. You can’t be reformed. You can’t be saved. You’ll die trying to make the world pay for what it did to you. And you’ll die alone.”

My heart clenched at his words and the inside of my nose grew hot. The tears were back.

He brushed my hair behind my ears and I flinched at his touch. He observed me curiously.

“Crocodile tears?” he asked with a shake of his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I swallowed. A hot tear ran from the corner of my eye. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“Good. Neither have I.”

He stood up and reached across the desk, bringing out a stuffed animal that had been hiding near the wall. It was a goofy looking bear. I had seen it earlier but not really seen it. I must have subconsciously figured it belonged to his son.

“See this?” he asked, making the bear dance in front of me.

“Is it Ben’s?”

“It’s a video camera.”

Double shit.

“It’s one of those nanny cams that you set up in your kid’s room. To catch the weirdos. I don’t get to take care of Ben and I probably never will, but if I ever had to hire a babysitter, I’d use one of these. You can’t trust anyone these days.” He smirked at me. “So, I pressed play at about eight o’clock. It’s been recording ever since. No matter where you go or what you do, I have all of this on tape. You’re done for, Ellie. They’re going to lock you up and swallow the key. You’re going to follow down the same path as your family, except you won’t be able to run. You know, sometimes I look at you and I see this…cornered desperation.” The phrase rolled off his tongue like smoke. “Think of how cornered you’ll be when you’re living in a jail cell.”

I’d had some low moments in my life. I’d been scared to death. I’d had the shit kicked out of me on two different occasions. I’ve had my fingers broken once (a poorly thrown punch). I’d been humiliated, cheated on, cast aside. But other than the moment I got my scars—the moment that put me on the path I was on—I’d never been so scared as I was sitting there handcuffed in Camden’s chair with my entire future resting inside the bowels of a teddy bear.

I looked him in the eye and took a steady breath. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” he repeated, placing the bear back on the desk, facing me and out of reach.

I sighed loudly. “Yes. What do you want? Are you turning me over to your dad or do you just feel like torturing me for a bit first?”

He leaned against the wall and bit his lip. “I do feel like torturing you, Miss Watt. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time.”

My face scrunched with despair. “So you’ve harbored a stupid grudge ever since high school?”

He smiled tightly. “Don’t make it sound trivial. Haven’t you harbored a grudge since high school?”

“But I have reasons!”

He raised his brows. His eyes looked opaque and glossy like blue glass. “Oh do you? You think because of your leg and your scars that gives you a right to punish people? Rob people? Cheat, scam, and steal? You think you can use that to justify what you do for a living?”

“You weren’t me,” I said through grinding teeth. “You have no idea what I went through.”

“I have some idea. We were friends once, you know.” He walked slowly in front of me, holding the gun behind his back like he was deep in thought. “Do you think because you can’t see my scars that they don’t exist? That’s the trouble with pain, Ellie. If you’re lucky, you can wear it for all the world to see. Most people have their pain deep inside, in places no one ever goes. Not until it’s too late.”

I had nothing to say to that. In a way, he was right. I had no idea what kind of scars he had and just because they weren’t visible, it didn’t mean they weren’t there. I mean, the guy was acting a little sadistic and a little fucking nuts. He was obviously hurting, far more than I would have ever thought.

“Well,” I said slowly, licking my dry lips. “I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry.”

He stopped in the middle of the room. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I mean it, I’m sorry I hurt you.” I felt like a flood was opening up in my throat. “I…I didn’t mean to. I was an idiot back then. I was a bitch, I…I was weak. I wanted people to like me. No one had ever liked me and I just wanted to be normal.”

“I liked you,” he said quietly. I opened my mouth but he went on, “but I guess I wasn’t normal enough for you.”

My chest went hollow at the pain in his eyes. “It’s not that, I just didn’t know how to appreciate your friendship. You were my first friend. Ever. I had no one before you except my parents, and when the thing with my leg happened…I couldn’t trust them anymore. I wanted to trust you, Camden, I really did. But then I thought if you liked me then there was something wrong with you. And that you’d hurt me.”

“So you hurt me first.”

“Yes,” I said breathlessly.

He nodded to himself. He seemed to get it.

“So why did you try and rob me just now?”

Shit.

“Why,” he continued and started pacing again, “did you try and scam me? Why now? Why me?” He choked on his last words like he was swallowing a bone. “Why did you try and fuck with me again?!”

My hands went into fists behind my back, my body instinctively picking up on the flashes of rage that were starting to flow through him. Flee or fight. Human instinct. In the dull light of the room, with his wild tats and hair that looked like he’d been pulling on it all night, he looked like a crazy person. His eyes were darting back and forth like a metronome.

“You used me,” he said incredulously. “You pretended to like me, you went to my show. You fucking paid some drunk-ass one hundred dollars to be your scapegoat. Don’t give me that look. The guy approached me in the bathroom before we left. He told me what the note said. I remembered the opportunistic look in your eyes and I started thinking about things that I didn’t want to think about. I’ve been fucked over too many times to not see the signs. To know when a woman’s got something else up her sleeve. And you kept going. We went out on a date. I had to know, I had to see where this was going. We went on a date and you slept with me. You fucked me and fucked me good and you still went through with it. You say you were a bitch in high school. You say you were weak and you just wanted to be normal. Well guess what. You’re not normal. You’re definitely weak. And I don’t think I’ve ever met a bigger bitch than you.”