Vinegar and Honey

"Cam?" I hollered through the door.

I saw his car in the driveway, so I knew he was home.

I knocked again, then tried the doorknob.

Why was it unlocked?

Anxiety shot through my whole body. Did something happen to Cameron? Trembling, I stepped inside. If someone had broken in, they could still be inside, so I moved slowly.

I closed the door as quietly as possible and crept on.

The living room was lit up, and my breaths quickened as my imagination went wild with possibilities of what awaited me.

When I first entered, nothing appeared out of place. But an unmistakable sickly metallic stench filled my nostrils.

I walked around the counter and found the source: a stranger staring up from the floor with wide, lifeless eyes, a slit across his throat, and a stab wound through his chest.

I couldn't process what this meant for Cameron--I couldn't process anything as my mind raced. I had never seen a dead person before--not like this. Corpses in the open caskets at a memorial service just looked like mannequins. None of them looked up at me with a frozen expression of terror, mouth open to never again scream for help.

How many times had that mouth produced jubilant laughter? How many years did those lips round to blow out birthday candles? How--

"Ella?"

I looked in the doorway to see my boyfriend, no shirt, latex gloves on his hands, an expression of utter shock on his face.

"Cam," I whimpered.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we going?" he laughed as I pulled his hand.

"If you hurry up, you'll see!"

He chuckled but picked up his pace and dropped his arm around my shoulder, his hand still in mine.

"Hey," he whispered. "Guess what?"

I giggled. "What?"

I could spend my whole life walking with you, even if we had no destination."

Butterflies swirled in my tummy. That felt like a declaration of love.

I had been thinking about the "L" word a lot lately, about what it really meant to love someone--I didn't have a lot of experience.

I wanted to say it right there as we strolled under the moonlight, in no hurry and under no obligation to reach our destination. But the words stuck in my throat, and I stayed silent.

After about 10 seconds or more, I realized that Cam had just said one of the sweetest things I had ever heard, and I was too stuck in my brain to reply!

I stopped walking and pushed against his chest to stop him. Before he could ask questions, I engaged in a kiss so passionate, I hoped it conveyed what I was unable to say. The most beautiful part was that it was a kiss from the soul, not the kind that ends with clothes on the ground.

Cam must have gotten the message because he held tightly to me as he kissed back, as if I might evaporate at any moment.

When that kiss ended, we both just stood there, hearts pounding. He pressed his lips to my head. I nuzzled my nose into his neck.

"Can we stay here forever?" he murmured.

"Yes, please."

And we held each other like that for a while before Cam teased, "But I am dying to know where you want to take me."

I hummed a laugh and pressed a single kiss to his jaw.

"Let's go, then!" I announced, and we headed off.

But, my ideas for the night had drastically shifted from that single moment. Our destination was the same, but instead of skinny-dipping in the pond in the glow of the moon, I realized I just wanted to cuddle into him and nothing else.

We came upon the pond, and maybe it was the love-glasses, but it was more breath-taking than the last time I'd seen it. The water glittered in the moonlight, and even the nighttime insects seemed to be singing for us.

"Oh, wow," Cam breathed. "How have I never been here before?"

"You haven't been looking."

Our bodies agreed to plop down under a huge tree near the water.

I clung to Cam, acting more needy than I ever had in my life. But he was all I wanted--I was sure of it.

I wondered again if I should call it what it was--love--but decided to let my actions do all the talking.

I don't remember when, but soon we found ourselves lying down, my head on his chest, his fingertips swirling designs across my back.

"Tell me a story," he murmured.

Cam didn't talk too much, but he loved the sound of my voice.

"In this story, we are the main characters," I began.

I continued in an elaborate narrative with detailed imagery of us uprooting our lives and living as nomads, traveling from place to place. And we'd have no responsibility or bills or homes. All we'd have is each other.

"You are my home," Cam confessed, barely managing to move his lips in his half-asleep state.

I lifted my head from his chest to study him.

He twisted a lock of my hair around his finger and chuckled, "What?"

"I..."

Love you.

"...can't believe you're mine."

He brushed his thumb against my cheek. I felt as though gravity itself pulled me toward Cam so that I could get closer to him. I pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek and stayed there, my nose against his soft skin, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Throughout my life, I had experienced only bad luck until Cam came along. All of a sudden, everything clicked into place, and I felt happy for the first time in...I don't know when. I had never relied on anyone in my life, but with Cam, I never wanted to be away from him.

The singing cicadas and thoughts of a future with my love are what lulled me to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Cam," I whimpered.

I thought my knees would give out, but Cameron was at my side in an instant to catch me before I hit the floor. I buried my nose in his warm neck and felt my tears dampen his skin.

"You're okay," I breathed shakily. "I thought...I thought that--"

A sob cut me off, and Cameron's arms tightened around me.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he soothed. "Why don't you go home, and I"ll meet you later tonight?"

I pulled back to look in his eyes but didn't loosen my grip on his strong arms.

"Go home?" I exclaimed, my voice cracking with emotion. "And do what?" Watch TV? Read a book? Pretend I didn't just stare into a man's dead eyes?!"

"Keep your voice down," Cameron gently ordered. He sighed, studying my face. "I was afraid of this."

Behind my back, he ripped off the gloves and tossed them, then ran his hand through my hair, pushing the part that used to be bands aside to see my eyes clearly.

"Damn it, Ella," he whispered.

I re-initiated the hug, needing the warmth of his skin to counter my shivering. Cameron kissed the top of my head.

The irony of finding comfort in the arms of someone who had just taken a life was not lost on me, but Cameron was my comforter and protector for the last three months.

"Can we go to your room?" I asked quietly. "I can't..."

Cameron pulled back and tucked my hair behind my ear, but I immediately shook it free.

"Of course, baby. Come here."

Cameron scooped me into his arms like I was a child, and I was grateful; I closed my eyes as Cameron stepped over the dead man's head and didn't open them again until I was set on the bed. As soon as Cameron sat next to me, I gravitated into his embrace once again.

"What happened?" I whispered, my head on his shoulder.

His fingers gently broke through every tangle in my hair; I focused on this feeling as I waited for him to answer.

"I can't answer that, Ella," he stated grimly.

I didn't push, even though I wanted to. Ignorance was bliss, and maybe if he didn't answer, I could continue believing the best in the man who took such care of me and black out the voice that told me this act wasn't as innocent as self-defense.

I had stopped shaking, but the terror ripping through my body was far from gone. My boyfriend--the man with deep dimples, blue eyes, and the sweetest laugh, the one who made me text him that I was safe when I got to my apartment each night, who checked everywhere for signs of an intruder, who hated for me to even drive at night--had killed another human being. Take a life.

And here I was, cuddled up to this...killer. But I couldn't call him that. This was my boyfriend. Cameron wasn't a killer. He just took one life and probably had a good reason.

Then why is he so calm?

What did that make me, anyway? An accomplice, sitting here, my phone in my back pocket, making the active decision not to call 911?

"Cam, I don't want to go home by myself," I whimpered.

With almost no beat in between, Cameron stood up, patted my head, and mumbled, "Wait here," before walking back into the other room. He came back with a fresh pair of gloves on and a serrated knife in his hand, face void of expression.

-----------------------------------

A cold drop of water splattered on my neck, and I crinkled my nose. I thought I could ignore whatever it was and go back to sleep, but more drops followed. When I opened my eyes, I remembered how Cam and I had fallen asleep outside.

I breathed a content sigh as I admired Cam's perfect face, undisturbed by the light rain sprinkling onto us through the trees.

The chill in the early morning fog rolling off the pond in combination with the damp grass beneath us made me wish I hadn't dressed for summer in my halter top and denim capris. I wanted to curl into Cam for warmth, but I didn't want to wake him. I didn't want our moment to end.

It was the one time in my life I felt complete serenity; the rise and fall of Cam's chest, the sound of light rain hitting the water, and the gray sky and fog blocking out the rest of the world gave the feel of a storybook, taking life one page at a time.

For all my life, I would come back to this moment and wish I had never turned the page.

The sprinkles turned to heavy raindrops, which woke Cam with a start. He looked around, but when his eyes landed on me, I felt the tension leave his body.

"Hey, beautiful."

I sat up with him and scooted close to his body, not that it provided much warmth now that we were soaked from the rain.

"I thought you hated camping," he teased.

I laughed, "Trust me, I was certainly not planning on sleeping outdoors. But I guess you make me feel pretty safe."

He cupped my face with his hands and leaned in to kiss me, but just before he made contact with my lips, he breathed, "I will always keep you safe."

It was the kind of kiss I didn't want to pull away from. The kind that felt like our souls were connecting. The fairytale kind.

Cam ended the kiss first, though he didn't exactly pull away. He stayed there with his hands on my face, nose on my nose, breathing me in.

Too soon, he stood up but held his hand out to me.

"May I have this dance?" he asked theatrically

I threw my head back laughing and took off my slippery sandals.

We twirled around like children, laughing as the rain poured over us and mud squished through our toes. Our kisses tasted of rainwater, and our songs were hilariously off-key, but it was the kind of perfect you'd only see in Hallmark movies.

Even when we had worn ourselves out, we slow danced until I started shivering--my body could not deny the cold any longer, though I tried to ignore it.

"Ella," Cam chuckled as we swayed back and forth. "You're freezing. Come on."

"I'm not ready," I whined.

"Yes you are. Let's go."

Cam swiftly grabbed our shoes and scooped me into his arms, drawing squeals and laughter from me.

He carried me the entire way to his car, despite my objections.

A few feet away from the Camaro, I distracted Cam with an unforeseen kiss, one that stopped him in his tracks. He put me down but barely allowed a second to pass where our mouths weren't united. I didn't notice him drop our shoes as he grasped my face in his hands to pull me closer, though I was already as close as I could get.

I backed into the hood of the Camaro, which was a signal to me that we needed to get going before we turned X-rated.

Breathing hard, I pulled back, brushing my thumb over his delicious lips while the fingers of my other hand combed through his curls.

"Okay, we can go," he breathed.

He went back to fetch our shoes while I stood outside the passenger door. It was unlocked, but my rain-heavy clothes reminded me how particular Cam was about his car.

"What are you doing?" he laughed.

"Cam, your seats!" I pointed out.

He hesitated but insisted, "There's nothing we can do about it. Just get in."

I didn't need any further convincing. I got in the car, buckled my seatbelt, and rubbed my arms for warmth. Cam turned on our seat warmers and the heat, but he wasn't ready to drive away.

He turned to me and grabbed my hand.

"I don't want to get all sentimental because I know you hate that--" Correct. "--but I need you to know that you're my favorite place, and there's nowhere I'd rather be than with you."

My heart swelled because in the last 24 hours, I had gotten very sentimental--he just didn't know it.

I closed my eyes.

"You are everything," I breathed, even though the L word remained on the tip of my tongue.

With my eyes still closed, Cam pressed a delicate kiss to my lips, lingered for a moment, and then put the car in drive.

"Permission to say one last cheesy thing?"

"Cheese is my favorite food," I said goofily. He grinned.

"Okay. Well you should know that I've never been as serious about a girl as I am with you. If my folks were around, I'd take you to meet them and look through photo albums."

"You are too adorable," I commented, unable to take my eyes off of him. "When do you think it was that you became so perfect?"

He scoffed and showed off the dimples from his gorgeous grin.

"Whatever," was his only reply.

We didn't talk the rest of the way, but we held hands, and I hummed Cinderella's "So This Is Love."

When we pulled up in front of my apartment, I sighed. I knew that once I walked in that door, our perfect date would be over, and it would be back to real life.

I was surprised when Cam turned off the car.

"Let's go," he prompted. When I didn't move, he said with an eye roll, "Are you going to walk, or should I carry you?"

I giggled and got myself out of the car, motivated by the fact that Cam would be joining me instead of just dropping me off.

I had never seen The Notebook, but as my lover and I walked hand-in-hand, soaked from the rain, I imagined this was a "Notebook" moment. At least that's what the cover made it seem.

I grabbed the spare key from behind a loose brick and went inside. Instantly, we were met with an unwelcome blast of cold air; I had left the AC on when the weather was in the 80s. Cam swore, prompting a giggle from me. I turned off the air conditioner and grabbed towels for us both.

"Go take a shower before you freeze to death," he ordered, then kissed me quick.

As glued to him as I was, the steaming water was what I craved to warm my freezing bones. Knowing Cam would need to get warm was my only motivation to leave the hot water, but I took my time combing my long hair and drying off as well as I could. I wrapped my towel around me and stepped out, but I didn't see Cam right away.

"Cam?" I called. "The shower's yours."

He rounded the corner from the kitchen in only his boxers with two mugs of tea in his hand. I grinned.

It was hard to put into words how this one moment made me feel, but for the first time, I felt like I could spend a lifetime with someone. I imagined our life under one roof where he would bring me tea, and we would cuddle and lie in bed all day.

"Thank you," I sighed, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.

He pecked my cheek, then walked toward the bathroom, running his fingers through my hair as he did.

Even after he had closed the door to shower, I lingered for a moment, playing it over in my head. Cam's was a face I'd be happy to wake up to for the rest of my life.

Eventually, I made it to my room to change into right black leggings and a warm flannel shirt that once belonged to Cam. I curled up on the couch to slowly drink my tea, anticipating seeing him again.

Geez, when had I gotten so clingy? I never had an interest in a long-term boyfriend and didn't believe in marriage. I rolled my eyes at couples displaying PDA.

But lately, Cam had me wanting to write songs, make a scrapbook, talk about our future.

I knew, though, that Cam was the same as me--didn't believe in marriage or long-term relationships; he had been burned in the past and shown that commitment was a lie. This reminder helped me reign in the part that just wanted him to get out of the bathroom so I could have him again.

He exited with a towel around his waist and kissed the top of my head.

"Do you...is that my shirt?"

I shrugged and sipped my tea.

With a smirk, he said, "I was going to ask if you had any of my clothes here, but it looks like you're wearing them!"

I giggled and resisted the urge to reach for him, not wanting to seem as needy as I felt.

"Go look in my room. Should be something in the dresser."

"Thank you," he sang and walked away.

I hopped up to hang my sopping clothes in the shower where they could drip into the tub.

Cam hollered from my room, "Why do you have so much of my stuff?"

I chucked to myself and answered, "I'm pretty sure if it's in my apartment, it belongs to me."

-----------------------------------------

I knew too much, and Cam couldn't trust me not to squeal.

Maybe knowing I was going to die is what helped me think so clearly, but I knew I had to act like nothing was wrong and remind Cameron how he felt about me.

I wanted to act like I wasn't scared, but my face betrayed me the moment I saw the knife.

Cameron knelt in front of me and cupped my face with his hand. I resisted the urge to gag in reaction to the sticky feeling of the latex and instead placed my own hand over his.

"I'm so sorry, Ella. This was never supposed to happen. You were never..."

He looked away to hide the pain in his eyes. I wanted to kiss his palm, but the smell of the latex was turning my stomach.

I pulled at the lip of the glove, but Cameron snapped his hand back as if he'd been burned.

"Ella," he reprimanded, his tone harsh.

Tears brimmed my eyes.

"Take it off, Cam!" I demanded, emotion thick in my voice. "I need to feel your skin." A tear trickled down my cheek, and I whispered, "I need it."

Cameron watched me carefully while he put down the knife to take off the glove, as if I had time to plan some elaborate scheme.

As soon as the glove was off the right hand, he grabbed the knife with his left, gripping it tight.

I imagined the two hands belonged to two different people. The right hand, tan with chipped black fingernail polish on each finger, belonged to my loving boyfriend.

My eyes fluttered closed as his thumb slowly brushed my tear away. His hand lingered on my skin.

I couldn't look at the left hand--the latex-wearing hand of a murderer.

"Ella," Cameron said softly. I opened my eyes. "You understand, don't you?"

I furrowed my brow and placed my hand on his again.

"I don't want to talk about this," I sniffed.

He sighed, wearing pity on his face.

"We have to, baby. I don't want this. I swear I don't. You just--you should have gone home, Ella! You weren't supposed to be here."

Yeah, I should have. If I could turn back time, I wouldn't have even left my apartment. I wouldn't have fallen so hard for the dimples, strong arms, and perfect smile.

But I wouldn't take back the day we met. The flirting and uncharacteristic confidence I displayed at the gas station. Mystery, charming laughter, teasing smirks. That day, I found new reason to live. And by being at the wrong place at the wrong time, my reason to live would be the end of me.

I cursed when my fuel light turned on; all I had was three dollars in change.

With trembling hands, I handed over my pre-payment, but the young man behind me handed over his credit card.

"I'll get her gas," he offered kindly. "Pump four?"

I nodded in response, unsure of how to react. He gestured toward the door, already having lost interest in me.

"Thank you so much."

I walked slowly out to my car as the young man--not much older than I--engaged in conversation with the cashier.

The tiny screen at the pump told me I had $30 prepaid.

Why would someone do that for me?

I crossed my arms in an attempt to keep the wind from sneaking into the sleeves of my jacket. I leaned back against the car, watching the numbers on the screen climb.

I heard the door open I heard the door open and watched my benefactor stroll to his car.

"Hey!" I called out. When I had his attention, I continued, "Why did you do that for me?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans and headed in my direction.

"You think that was for you?" he asked when he reached me, humor in his tone. "I did it so I wouldn't have to wait for that poor guy to count a hundred coins."

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbed three crisp dollar bills, and impatiently stuck out the gift.

"Here," he said stiffly.

I looked into his black-lined eyes, searching for a hint--was he arrogant or confident? Generous or selfish? Impatient or a jokester?

I smirked and pushed his hand away.

"Liar."

For a split second, his brow furrowed in confusion, but he quickly recovered, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"Oh, I'm a liar, am I?"

"Yeah," I teased. I think you're a secret softie, but if everyone knew that, your reputation would be tainted."

He let out a sharp laugh, and for the first time in years, butterflies erupted in my belly.

I knew why I trusted him so quickly: I was a sucker for the eyeliner, grunge style, and jewelry.

"You think you know me, firecracker?"

"Everyone does, e-boy."

He chuckled, showing off perfect teeth.

The gas pump clicked off, and we reached for the pump at the same time.

"Just because I'm poor doesn't mean I've never been to a gas station," I snapped holding back laughter.

He put up his hands in surrender.

"By all means."

I wanted to ask for his number, his social media, something. I wasn't ready to say goodnight.

But this was a stranger! What had gotten into me?

As I moved to get into my car, the stranger grabbed the top of the door, holding it still.

"Have drinks with me tomorrow," he insisted.

"No."

Other than a brief flicker of surprise, he kept his expression cool.

"Dinner, then."

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't have been more thrilled about the invitation.

"I can't afford to put gas in my car. Do you think I do much eating out?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Are you an idiot? If I'm asking you to dinner, I'm obviously paying."

Say yes. Say yes.

"I'm not trying to be in debt to you."

"One night," he requested, becoming serious.

I kept up the sass as I acted like he was forcing my answer, "Fine. Tell me when and where, and I'll meet you there."

"You couldn't give me your number, and I could text it to you."

"Too easy," I said with a wink."

Cam knew me better than anyone. And as he searched my face, he knew I was on the brink of saying something meaningful--he just didn't know what.

If I was going to die, I wanted him to know that I loved him, but I was just too scared to say it before. But if I said it now, it would seem like I was grasping at straws.

"What?" Cam asked.

I shook my head, eyes closed, focusing on the warmth from his hand spreading to my cheek.

"Ella, what do you want to say? I'm listening."

"Nothing," I said softly.

"Tell me," he pleaded.

"I can't. You won't believe me."

With my eyes closed, I didn't see Cam stand up, but I felt his weight as he transitioned to the bed.

I blinked up at him and ran my fingers through his dark curls.

"Take me home," I whispered. "Hold me tight as we fall asleep and dream about escaping to our island far away."

He closed his eyes, and I brushed a soft kiss across his cheek.

"Ella, there's too much DNA. The cops in this town are good at their jobs. They'll see from the cameras that you come here often; they'll find your fingerprints on the door." He looked into my eyes and hesitated before explaining, "I can't let them get to you. I can't put you in a position where you have to lie for me."

I crisscrossed my legs so that I could face him on the bed.

"I know," I whispered, more rebel tears trickling down my face.

"Tell me what you were going to say before," Cameron requested gently.

I expected with all the chaos that he would have forgotten, but he wouldn't drop it.

"You said I wouldn't believe ou? What is it, El?"

I scooted off the bed and took a couple of steps, rubbing my tired eyes.

Cameron delicately grabbed my arm, and I turned to face him. He was standing, the knife still firmly in his hand by his side.

I wondered if I had lost. There were no more negotiations to be made. Begging for my life was beneath me. And without Cam, what exactly did I have to live for?

I slid my hands up Cameron's bare chest and rested them on the back of his neck.

"Tell me, Ella."

I leaned in closer and whispered, "Cameron," taking my time feeling each syllable on my tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Take me home." He kissed my head but looked away. "Keep me safe."

Cameron placed one hand at the base of my neck and pulled me in for a desperate last kiss. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding tight, hoping that with each kiss, each touch, each breath, I would be able to convince Cam that I didn't have to die.

I felt his left arm wrap around my waist, and he placed an open palm on the small of my back. No knife. Had he dropped it?

I transitioned the kiss into a hug, nuzzling my nose into his neck.

"I just--"

I stopped myself again, wanting to be sure it was a good time before saying it.

"Please say it," Cameron begged in a whisper.

"I just...I love you, Cam."

He wrapped both arms around my waist and squeezed as i I could slip away at any second.

"Damn it, Ella. You're a real life fairytale."

If my life was a fairytale, which character did Cameron play?

In the absence of my answer, Cam asked, "You see me differently, don't you?"

I bit my lip. He was right, but if I told him that, he might lean more toward killing me. I was making substantial progress; the knife was on the floor, after all.

"No, Cam. I'm a little confused, but I know you, and--"

"No you don't," he interrupted, dropping his arms from around my waist.

I backed up to look at him, but he wouldn't meet my eye.

My chest tightened, and my hands clammed up as I prepared myself to ask my next question.

"What's next?"

Cameron scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I don't know," he sighed. He looked at me sadly. "Can you wait here for a bit? I have to take care of that--" he gestured to the other room "--before I can think about anything else."

I nodded.

Cameron sighed again and placed both his hands on my face.

"Do you know how much you mean to me?"

I didn't. I cast my eyes downward. One of his gloves was still on, making it impossible to feel love while I tried not to distance myself from the latex.

I let Cam's question hang in the air until he realized I didn't have anything to say.

"Okay, Ella," he whispered, "I need you to give me your phone, okay?"

I furrowed my brow. I wanted to tell him no, but I couldn't find my voice.

"El," he beckoned softly. "Please."

I reluctantly handed it over, pouting as I did.

"Thank you, baby. I'll move as fast as I can."

He closed the bedroom door on his way out, and I crawled into his bed, knowing it would be the last time I burrowed under these covers.

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my fists around the down comforter. Three months ago, I wouldn't have had a life to lose or anyone to mourn me if I died. In fact, I viewed death as a welcome escape from the constant hell I faced every day for the last 24 years. But then I went and fell in love.

Quiet sobs escaped me as I wrapped the blankets tighter around my body.

Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll wake up and this will all have been a dream. Nothing but a bad dream.

I spent who knows how long imagining how I would have done things differently to avoid this situation in this moment.

Still, unanswered questions raced through my mind. Who was that man on the ground? Was this even Cam's apartment? Was it really that easy for Cam to decide that I had to die? Could I manipulate my way out of this fate? I didn't want to manipulate Cam; I just wanted him to love me and take care of me. To keep me safe like he promised.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed before Cam opened the door, changed his clothes, and knelt down in front of me.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered gently.

I numbly got out of bed and wrapped my arms around him, wondering when he would kill me just to get it over with. Waiting in suspense for my unavoidable fate was worse than coming to terms with it.

He gave me a jacket and held my hand as we wordlessly walked out to his car.

As he started to drive, I kept my eyes on him, trying to separate the killer from my boyfriend.

You didn't actually see him kill anyone.

But who else would have done it?

Maybe it was self-defense?

Then why didn't he call the police? Or at least tell me that?

"Where are we going?" I asked, finally breaking the stale silence.

"Somewhere we can both thing," Cam answered softly.

Was he hurting too?

Cam parked the car on a familiar patch of gravel, and I felt myself getting choked up.

I didn't want to get out of the car. I didn't want to take a walk. I simultaneously wanted to pretend that nothing had happened and yet demand that Cam tell me everything.

I didn't even realize Cam had gotten out of the car until the passenger door opened.

I jumped slightly, then relaxed when I realized it was only Cam, holding out his hand to me.

I placed my hand in his and let him help me up.

This close up, I could see the pain in his eyes.

He didn't say anything as we walked hand-in-hand, taking the same path as the night I first realized I loved him.

"Listen, Ella..."

I didn't acknowledge Cam's words but instead waited for him to break it to me that he had brought me out here to murder me.

"We have a couple of choices. I don't do this very much, and I haven't in a really long time, but..." He stopped to clear his throat.

We approached the more luscious area covered in tall grasses, cozy oak trees, and the still pond.

"Basically, a nice alternative to...you know...would be...you could come live with me."

That, I was not expecting.

I stopped walking to stare back at him in shock.

"Come...live with you?"

I didn't think "live" would be part of the negotiations at all.

"It's not what it sounds like," Cam rushed to explain. "I mean, not in the longterm-serious-relationship way. Well, it is long-term, but--"

"Cameron," I interrupted as his anxiety spiked. "Let's sit down and breathe for a moment."

The two of us sat under the oak, and I interlaced our fingers.

"I'm listening," I assured softly.

Cam kissed my knuckles and, tears in his eyes, continued, "There's a house. With four other guys and a few other girls. It's off the grid, and you could come live there with all of us as an alternative to, well, death."

My brain processed this information in slow motion.

"It's...a house?"

"Well, kind of. It's more like a...I don't know. It's a large building."

"So like, a warehouse or something?"

"I...I guess."

"And so my choices are to die, or to live in a warehouse with a bunch of strangers for all of eternity?"

I couldn't keep the edge out of my tone, and Cam noticed.

"You don't have to make it seem so hopeless," Cam defended.

"I mean...it is for me, right? Either options leads to death, just one of them is more drawn-out."

"Ella, don't talk like that. It's a nice place. There are other girls there that you can be friends with. You won't have to work. You can be happy there. Take the offer."

"And do what, sit around in a cellar for the rest of my life eating dehydrated food out of a bag?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cameron groaned. "Come on, baby. You know I can't let you go."

I looked to my right, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't you trust me?" I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Of course I trust--"

"Then why can't I keep living my life? You're trying to hide me away like I'm going to blab to the first person I see."

"Your DNA is all over that apartment, El. Did you touch the doorknob when you cam in? Have you slept in that bed? Used that bathroom? Eaten in that kitchen? The cops in this town know what they're doing. They'll track you down and ask you questions, and you'll have no choice but to mention me."

I didn't respond, so he continued.

"But I'm giving you a choice right now. You get to have control right now," Cameron said softly.

I rolled my eyes and faced him with a look that told him that was the stupidest thing I had ever heard.

"You are so full of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"You get to have the control. Whatever, Cam! I can't go home. I can't even go grab something from Taco Bell because you're holding me hostage, practically."

Cameron hesitated. "Do you want Taco Bell?"

I growled. "No! The point is, I couldn't go get it if I wanted. If I have to ask your permission to do anything, I don't really have control, do I?"

Cameron cracked his knuckles while he thought through everything.

"I hear what you're saying..."

"But I might as well have been talking to the corpse in the apartment?"

Cameron snapped his head over at me, eyes ablaze with fury.

"You told me you didn't see me any differently."

"That was before you gave me the choices of death or captivity."

"It's not like that," he groaned.

"What's it like, then?"

"I told you. It's a nice place. There's a lot of space, people you can be friends with--"

"Other people who also had their freedoms taken away?"

"Stop!" Cameron shouted suddenly.

I finally silenced myself, heart hammering.

Cameron had never yelled at me before.

We bathed in the tension for a moment before Cameron spoke up again, carrying his anger in his tone, "See, this is exactly why we have to make this decision: because you're too headstrong and say careless things when you're worked up."

"I don't believe this," I grumbled, standing to my feet. He jumped up as well but didn't say anything. I took his silence as invitation to speak up again. "Literally three hours ago, I told you I love you, and now I'm finding out you don't really care about me that much."

I turned from him and began walking in the opposite direction, but Cam was quick on my heel.

"Obviously I would have preferred you didn't see that side of me--"

"That side of you?" I interrupted. "So murder is a personality trait."

Cameron spat curse words in my direction, which fueled my defiance.

He abruptly grabbed my hand and yanked me around to face him. In an instant, he pulled a gun from his waistband, took the safety off, and pointed it right at my forehead.

I wanted to look into his eyes, to find some trace of my boyfriend, but I couldn't see past the barrel of the gun.

"Make your decision, Ella. We can make this go away, release you from time and existence for good. Or, you can come live with me. We have a big family, but there's always room for more."

I couldn't do anything but blink back at him. Family? If the stakes weren't so high, I would have made a joke that it sounded like he was trying to get me to join his church.

My silence must have lasted too long because he asked, "Ella, did you hear me?"

I snapped, "I'm gonna need a minute."

Cameron's jaw dropped.

"You have got to be kidding me. You're seriously considering death as an option?"

"More and more by the second," I snapped.

"If you really loved--"

"Is it my choice, or isn't it?" I interrupted, glaring with a foreign abhorrence.

Cam opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. He lowered the gun, watching me carefully.

Feeling claustrophobic and apathetic toward any consequences, I pulled my arm out of his grip and marched off into the thick of the trees.

"Don't take another step!" he threatened. I turned to see the gun once again aimed at me.

I reflected on the ironic difference between ever-compliant crybaby Ella back in the apartment just a few short hours before, convincing Cam I didn't have to die, and then present Ella, angry and cold. In the apartment, I tearfully begged Cam to drop that knife. And now, I stood a good 10 feet from Cameron who so easily aimed his gun in my direction, without so much as a tremor.

What happens when your reason to live becomes the reason you die?

I took a step toward Cameron. He didn't flinch.

"Do it," I dared, balling my fists to hide the shaking. "You're obviously ready, so do it."

"Ella--"

"I've made my decision, Cam."

"This is permanent, Ella. You can't take it back."

"Pull the trigger."

Another step in his direction.

He nervously ran his hand through his hair, then returned to a ready stance. I opened my arms to give the bullet easy entrance. Cam lowered the gun, looked around, then once again got ready.

"You look like an amateur," I taunted. "Shouldn't this be a piece of cake for you? I mean, this isn't exactly your first--"

"Lower your voice," Cam barked.

I smirked. So I was getting to him. He watched carefully as I took another step.

"What are you waiting for?" I challenged, no longer shouting.

Cameron sighed and again ran his hand through his hair.

"Ella...I can't do this."

"Since when?"

He blinked at me, sorrow in his eyes.

"Since you became the target."

I could barely hear him.

I got even closer; by now, I was about five feet away from him.

"Don't be a coward. Shoot me."

He furrowed his brow.

"I've never seen you like this. You're hostile, challenging, and harsh."

Oh, that was rich.

"Did you forget I had to see a new side of you today? You're not who I thought you were."

Cameron snorted, "Yeah, that's kind of the point."

I watched as he set the gun on the ground and closed the gap between us.

"Ella...I can't kill you. I can't say goodbye to you."

He reached out and delicately grabbed my hands. Just that simple touch was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"It's what I want, Cam," I insisted unconvincingly. "Please. It's what I want."

"I thought you wanted a life with me," he murmured, pulling me closer. "Maybe this isn't an island of our own, but it's still you and me."

I closed my eyes and considered this. He was right--I did want a life with him. And maybe this was unconventional, but what did I actually have to lose?

"You and me?"

"Forever."