Chapter Seventeen:
Different Worlds
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face—which was the last thing I wanted. Why couldn’t it just rain today? Part of me wished that I would open my eyes and find myself back in my tiny room in Callister, living an ordinary life where people like Cameron remained unseen and definitely unfelt. But the other part, that bigger part again, knew that I didn’t want to go back to my former life, no matter what mean things Cameron Hillard could find to say to me. I threw the blanket over my head with the hopes that if I waited in the darkness long enough, clouds would come, to match my mood. But I could feel the bed shake as Meatball was wagging his tail wildly. He knew that I was awake now.
“Not yet, Meatball, please …” I whined.
“You’re going to have to get up eventually.” I didn’t have to pull the blankets away to know that it was Cameron. I hadn’t heard him come in, yet there he was. “Anyway, Meatball won’t go back to sleep if he knows you’re up.”
His chilled tone hadn’t improved. It was going to be another one of those days. I stayed hidden.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than watch me sleep?” I complained from under the blankets, trying to keep my voice as cool as his, even though my somersaulting heart had silently betrayed me. I hated that he had this kind of power.
Something thumped next to me. I peeked out—Cameron had thrown a shiny silver object at me. It was a cell phone—my cell phone.
“Call your mother,” he ordered.
Call my mother? That was probably the last thing I felt like doing in that moment. It was definitely not what I had ever expected Cameron to say. “Why?”
“She left you three messages. Sounded urgent.” His voice seemed unnecessarily guarded.
“You’ve been listening to my phone messages?” I didn’t know what made me more upset: the fact that he had totally violated my privacy, or the fact that I had probably only missed three calls—from my mother, nonetheless—since disappearing from the face of the earth and that Cameron now knew how pathetic my other life was.
He lifted one eyebrow and nudged me to pick up the phone. In order words, he wasn’t asking me to call my mother. Sighing, I climbed out of hibernation and picked up the phone. I went down the list of missed calls and found that my mother hadn’t been the only one who had called. I couldn’t help but casually bring this to Cameron’s attention.
“Looks like Jeremy called a bunch of times too. Did he leave any messages?” I feigned innocence.
He glowered in an affirmative response. The fact that my heart leapt at that precise moment had nothing to do with this Jeremy guy.
“And?” I continued, growing amused by his scowl.
“And nothing. He left a bunch of messages asking why you were mad at him … the guy sounds like a doorknob, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t know that doorknobs could talk.”
“They don’t. They just squeak and spin in a circle.”
I tried to not dignify his response with a further reply, but I just couldn’t contain myself. “So, I should probably call him back too, then. It might be urgent.”
He grinned even wider; like I had fallen for the trap—hook, line, and sinker. “No worries. He’ll never call you again.”
Horrific thoughts suddenly ran through my head. “Oh my God, Cameron! What did you do to him!”
Cameron eyed me, and his face contorted as he understood my meaning. “Definitely not what you apparently think I’m capable of.” He was offended. I was afraid that I had ruined his good mood—but he quickly regained his grin, antsy to finish his story. “I got Rocco to call this Jeremy guy last night and pretend to be calling from a hospital in … Sweden or Switzerland, I forget … I was laughing so hard … something about you having a highly contagious rash that made your ears swell up … that he should run to a hospital right away to get his ears checked.”
I couldn’t imagine Rocco pulling off any believable accent—but then again, Jeremy had probably been the vainest guy that I had ever met and the mere possibility that his ears could enlarge would have certainly distracted, devastated him.
“And Jeremy bought it?”
Cameron shrugged. “Like I said, your boyfriend’s a doorknob. Don’t know what you see in that guy.”
“He’s a nice and normal guy,” I emphasized, for his benefit. He winced. “Anyway, he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Well he was, wasn’t he?” he urged dryly.
I narrowed my eyes. “What difference does it make?”
“It doesn’t,” Cameron responded abruptly. “Call your mother.” He had quickly regained control over himself.
I dialed my mother’s mobile number, and the line rang over and over. I hoped … and grimaced when she finally picked up. All hopes were dashed.
“Emily? Is that you, honey?” my mom almost sweetly asked. Honey? There were so many things wrong with that statement that I couldn’t even begin to analyze it.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Honey, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last two weeks.”
The fact that I’ve been kidnapped and I’m being held against my will by a gang of drug dealers in their million-dollar compound out in the middle of nowhere came to mind. “Er, sorry. I’ve been really busy. What’s up?” was what I actually said.
I could hear the clinging and clanging of dishes and silverware in the background. It was close to dinnertime in France.
“Well, you’ll never guess who we ran into.” Drumrolls played in my head as I paused for the incredible revelation. “Mr. and Mrs. Jacobsons. You remember them don’t you?”
No. “Uh-huh,” I lied to keep things simple and quick.
“Well, imagine the coincidence of them meeting us … here! And guess what,”—more drumrolls—“They brought their wonderful son Damien with them,” she gushed.
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Yes, honey. What else is there?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled. “So what were you saying about the Jacobsons?”
Cameron had settled himself by the couch, leaning against the back and watching me with hilarity while my mom carried on about the Jacobsons and their son: they were pronounced to be such a good family, and Damien was absolutely delightful and well-bred and … not to mention that he was staked to succeed his father in taking over the family empire. I was biting my tongue a lot.
“I’ve been talking to Damien, and he is just dying to see you. How quickly can you catch a plane to come meet us?”
There it was—the reason for the niceties. The only time my mother was ever “motherly” was when she wanted something. The only time my mother spoke English to me and didn’t force me to speak French to her was when she was trying to impress someone who was listening. This time I assumed it was both. I couldn’t imagine what embellishments my mom had told Damien for him to be just dying to meet me. The truth was that I remembered Damien Jacobsons all too well. We were seven years old, and I had been forced to go to one of those stupid family picnics for one of my dad’s clients. Damien had decided it would be good fun to play connect the dots with my freckles—when I dared to protest, he stabbed me in the back of the arm with a pencil. I still had the scar to prove it. I doubted that someone like Damien Jacobsons would remember that small fact, but, unfortunately for him, I never forgot and I was really good at holding a grudge.
“Mom, Europe is just not an option right now and—” Cameron had curiously raised an eyebrow.
But my mom didn’t let me finish with my attempts at finding more excuses. “Oh, here he comes now. He wants to talk to you.”
“No. Mom! I don’t want to talk to this Damien—”
“Hello? Emily?” A deep voice rang through the phone.
I cringed. “Yes. Hi. Damien.” Cameron’s interest had picked up when I had said Damien’s name.
The clanging and chatter noises became more distant on the other side of the line. Damien had clearly walked away from the rest of the party. “So did you ever grow out of your polka dots?” he said.
So he remembered me—and had apparently not matured past the age of seven. “No. I haven’t—actually, it’s gotten worse. Much worse. How about you? Are you still eating your snots when you think no one is looking?” I wondered out loud.
Cameron practically choked on his own saliva.
There was awkward silence on the other end of the phone. Damien then cleared his throat and continued the conversation, unfortunately. “So … you should totally come meet us here. A bunch of us are spending the summer chill-axing in the Riviera. The whole gang is here—Chuck, Jimmy, Lance, Chrissy, Angela …”
Images of the “whole gang” came into my head—all of them had, at one point or another, pulled my hair or taunted me in some horrible way when I was a kid. “Sorry, I’m really tied up right now.”
Damien wasn’t listening. “My Dad had the yacht sailed to port in Monaco. I’ll take you sailing—just you and me. Come on … it’ll be great!”
Nothing about being alone with him where the only way to escape was to drown trying to swim to shore sounded fun. I would have picked drowning any day. “Damien, sorry, my phone is about to die. I’ll get back to you on the boat thing. Say—bye—to—my Mom—for me …” I hung up and threw the phone at the foot of the bed. I fell back onto my pillow, worn out.
“Emergency averted. Happy?” I said to Cameron.
“Yeah. I am,” he said with a grin that almost reached his eyes. “That was more entertaining than I thought it would be. I didn’t know Europe could be an emergency.”
When you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter, it was surprising the things that became a crisis. “Weren’t you afraid that I would tell my mother where I was?” Not that I had any idea where I was.
“Would she have believed you?”
He had a point.
I heard music booming in the distance. “You’re working today,” I mused, surprised by my automatic connection.
He nodded yes, but didn’t look like he was in a big hurry to go. “So, who was this Damien fellow you were talking to?” I thought I had glimpsed jealousy—or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
“His parents’ money is friends with my parents’ money,” I explained wryly, but Cameron looked lost. I sighed. “Just some boy my parents would love to see me settle down with.” As I said this, another thought occurred to me. “You know, you and my parents would probably get along quite well.”
“Oh?” Cameron fell into my ambush this time.
“You both try to control my life and seem to think I’m better off sticking with my own kind, whatever that is.” I threw the blanket back over my head before he had time to respond. “Do you have any more orders, or can I go back to sleep?”
“I wasn’t ordering you. I was just concerned that—”
“Whatever,” I interrupted coolly. Now I was in a really bad mood—a common side effect of my mother. “Can you let Meatball out when you leave?”
I exhaled loudly—my indication that the conversation was over.
The room was silent. He remained still. I imagined that he was staring at the big bulge that was under the blanket, considering his next move. After a minute, I heard him walk with insistence past the bed, and he left the room, calling Meatball to follow him.
As soon as I heard the door click and confirmed the noise of his steps down the stairs, I ripped the blanket off me. I had an idea where Cameron was going—and I had a plan. With record speed, I was dressed and ready to execute. I crouched by the bedroom door and listened. After what seemed like forever, I heard what I was waiting for: the muffled voices of Cameron, Spider, and Carly as they walked out the front door. I waited a few more minutes after I heard the door close and then headed out to follow them. I slightly opened the front door, peeking to make sure they were out of sight.
My encounter with Roach had taught me that wandering around the grounds was a dangerous thing, especially now that Griff was gone. I glanced around and didn’t see Roach; I was safe enough—for a while anyway. I made my way down to the garage, stopping as I neared the corner. There was a guard walking by the entrance of the pathway where I had seen Carly trek through the day before. So I waited for my opportunity.
The guard walked back and forth by the path’s entrance; he got bored after a few minutes of having nothing to look at but the back of the garage and kept marching down the line until he disappeared around the corner. This was my chance. With as much speed as I could rally, I ran straight for the pathway and didn’t look back until I was sure to be hidden in the trees.
There I stopped and listened: rustling of leaves and creaking and cracking of branches, all above my head. I breathed again when I was sure no one was running in after me.
I warily continued on the beaten path. I had no idea how far the path went, or how far I would be able to go before I was discovered—then who knew what would happen. I tried not to think about that, and focused on getting moving instead.
The dirt line seemed to go on forever. With every step I took, I was losing my nerve. I was starting to consider turning around when I hit a green brick wall. Strangely erected, tightly up to the tree line was the back of a one-story building that had no windows facing out and the beaten path ended directly under its metal door that had been left ajar.
I stood by the door and listened for voices—I heard nothing. I gulped and, with the speed of a snail, softly treaded in.
Inside was a small office—or at least it looked like it was supposed to be an office. At the farthest end of the room was an oversized wooden desk with a sleek, black leather chair half hidden behind it. In the middle was a burgundy rawhide couch and a ratty blanket pitched upon it. There were two wood-burning stoves stuffed in a corner, but no wood.
The floor and desk were spilling over with disarrayed piles of clothes. Recognizing some of Cameron’s wrinkled T-shirts, I realized that this was where he had been sleeping since I had taken over his room. I glanced at the stiff-looking couch and the yellowed pillow and felt a bit guilty—I couldn’t imagine having to sleep on that every night.
I moved toward the large desk. Apart from Cameron’s improvised bedroom, there was something else that made this room seem like just the shell of an office—its emptiness. The floor-to-ceiling bookcases were, for the most part, empty of normal office stuff. There were no pictures, papers, pens, computer, files, or anything else that would make this office an office.
When I heard quick footsteps, I froze.
Next to Cameron’s improvised sleeping quarters was a closed door. The footsteps seemed to be approaching from the other side of it, and getting closer fast. I pushed the leather chair aside and hid under the desk, peering through the hairline cracks between the wood planks that faced the desk.
There I held my breath and watched Carly speed across the room and exit outside, closing the heavy door behind her.
My heart was wildly thumping. I took a few seconds to calm myself and puffed. This had been a close call. Too close. Ghastly thoughts of what Carly would have done had she discovered me went through my head. Somehow I knew that I was not welcome to snoop here.
I crawled out from under the desk and headed for the metal door. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t worth getting in trouble for … or worse.
But when I pushed on the heavy door—nothing happened.
I pulled, and then I pushed, using my whole body, but the door still did not budge.
It was stuck—and so was I.
When I heard unrecognizable voices through the other door, I froze in place again, terrified, listening. There were several voices echoing in the distance, yet none seemed to be coming closer.
I tiptoed to this new, possible, alternate exit and peeked out. It opened onto a short, narrow passageway that led nowhere. A dead end. And oddly, there was no one there, though I could still hear people noises.
I went to the dead end and noticed a door-shaped split in the wall. At the bottom was a small pedal, which I assumed would open the secret way. In the middle of the frame was a dime-sized eyehole. I slowly brought my face forward and peered through.
Over a dozen people talked over each other in a bright room. There were darkened windows on the opposite wall, and I could see cars, SUVs and motorcycles outside. In the middle of the room was a large, rectangular glass table. Cameron was calmly seated at the head, engrossed in paperwork, while the others slowly found seats.
It was a mind-boggling assortment. Sitting next to each other around the table were over a dozen men and one woman who looked like extremes of each other—people of all shapes, sizes, and age—some were dressed in three-piece suits, while others had lopsided ball caps and gold chains or full leather outfits … rival gang bosses, together, in one room, acting like normal people.
The seated members, the bosses, were noisily talking among themselves and each had one man standing guard behind them, each man looking fiercer than the other. Spider stood behind Cameron.
When Cameron lifted his head, the table immediately went quiet. “We have several items on the agenda today. I thank you again for making the trip out to attend this meeting. I can assure you that we will pursue our meetings in the city as soon as feasible for me.” The room stayed very quiet. “Let’s try to keep on topic today so that everyone can get out of here at a decent time for once.”
Cameron’s voice was intimidating and very businesslike. Everyone inside—and outside—the room remained captivated. “The most pressing item is an apparent breach of territory lines which has led to hostilities between two of our branches and the loss of some of their members. This conflict has also brought coverage in the news, and our suppliers have expressed concern over media attention.”
Cameron eyed one of the suited men sitting at the table. “Johnny, I understand that this started after some of your boys tried to distribute product in California.”
A man who was wearing a blue bandana around his head piped up. “They didn’t just try to distribute. They were trying to undercut me and take over my territory.”
Cameron calmly lifted his hand in a motion for silence. “Viper, you will get your chance to speak. Johnny, my sources support what Viper has just said. Can you explain?”
The gel-haired Johnny looked nervous. “Listen, some of my boys went on a road trip and got a little carried away. It was a misunderstanding. No disrespect was meant.”
Cameron turned to Viper. “Viper, you have heard the explanation. Do you have anything to say?”
Viper mumbled. “Just that it’s total bull.”
Cameron continued, “Johnny, I believe that a ten percent contribution of your branch’s earnings last month should be sufficient to settle damages to Viper. Do you agree?”
Johnny nodded, begrudgingly.
Cameron turned to Viper. “Viper?”
Viper nodded, cheerfully.
Cameron glanced around the table. “Any objections?”
Everyone remained silent.
Cameron wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Spider. “Johnny, next time your boys want a road trip from Chicago to L.A., make sure they leave the business at home, all right?”
Johnny sulked in response.
I was entranced as an officious Cameron led the meeting and methodically went through a list of agenda items: new products coming onto the market, competitors, price listings, FBI reports and sightings, and other bad blood that had developed between the members’ gangs. Spider hung back and collected the paperwork that Cameron handed him as topics were discussed. It didn’t take me long to realize that Cameron didn’t just sit on the crime bosses’ board of directors—he was their CEO.
After two hours, my legs were like jelly, and Cameron finally stopped the meeting for a break. Everybody stretched out and slowly walked outside of the room as Cameron and Spider went through the collected paperwork. When the room was emptied, Spider took the paper stacks and walked straight for the trapdoor, and me. I struggled to wake my legs up, and I ran back to the office like a baby deer wiggling into its first steps. I had barely had time to duck my head under the desk when Spider stepped through the doorway.
Like Carly, he kept walking across the room to the metal door. When he got to it, he realized, as I had, that the door was stuck. He backed up and rammed his whole body into it. The door finally burst opened, and, cursing under his breath, he disappeared, leaving it ajar.
My heart jumped for glee as I realized that I would finally be free.
I waited a few minutes more to make sure that Spider wasn’t coming back right away and crawled out. And then I heard voices nearing from the passageway again. I banged my forehead on the desk as I hurried to crawl back under.
“It seems like forever since I’ve been back here,” reminisced a female voice.
I saw Cameron approaching through the cracks in the wood. I recognized the woman next to him as the only female who had been in the meeting room sitting with the other crime bosses. She was tall and slim, with short, dark hair that was tucked behind her ears. She looked like one of those girls that I had seen in my brother’s car magazines—the girls that made any car look fabulous by just standing next to it.
While Cameron leafed through the duffle bag that was on the floor, the woman glanced over the clothes that were stacked on surfaces.
“Are you sleeping in here?” she asked him.
“Sometimes,” he replied, distracted.
He found what he had been looking for and handed it to her—the pink T-shirt that I had found in his drawer the first day I came to the farm.
“You forgot this here,” he said to her as she took the shirt.
The woman kept her eyes on his face.
“She’s still here, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“That girl who saw you killing one of Shield’s boys in the projects,” she responded.
Cameron squinted, arms crossed. “What makes you think I brought her here?”
“I heard from one of my guys that you took her home with you,” she admitted composedly.
“The board has already ruled on this, Manny. The girl will not be a problem for any of us. I don’t intend on revisiting this issue with you.”
“The board was forced to make a decision without having all the facts. I think that they might be interested to know that the girl is alive and that you’re keeping her here.” Her voice had gone up an octave.
“What are you saying exactly?” he snarled.
Manny immediately became sedate. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She raised her hand and stroked his cheek. I squirmed. “I’m just wondering what interest you have in her.”
He didn’t pull her hand away. “You know we can’t have contact like this when there are other leaders around.”
“Do you love her?” she asked pointedly.
“Of course I don’t love her,” Cameron told her without skipping a beat.
I felt the gash in my heart rip open again.
“Then why is she here?” she demanded. “I thought I was the only one who you would ever bring here.”
Cameron sighed like I had heard him sigh so many times with me. “I’m just bored right now, Manny. I need something to play with, to keep me busy. When I’m done, I’ll get rid of her.”
“Well, hurry up and be done with her. I miss you. I want to be with you again,” she whined.
Manny leaned in and kissed him, on the mouth. His body was tensed, and he let her kiss him. I couldn’t breathe, even after he had finally pushed her away.
His voice was softer now. “It was a onetime mistake that will never happen again. I can’t show bias for one boss over the other.”
Spider came back inside, empty-handed and patiently waiting for Cameron by the closed trick door. With an indifferent head nod, Cameron motioned to Manny to get out. Resigned, Manny followed Cameron’s order and walked out. After Spider peeped through the eyehole, all three stepped back through the passageway—and I was left hiding alone under a desk, shaking, beaten.
I fought back tears.
Then I ran out the door.
I followed the dirt line back through the woods, falling at least twice. I ran out at the other end without stopping or looking to see if the guard was back at his post. In a split second, I thought that he probably wouldn’t rat me out if he did see me—otherwise he would have had to admit to Spider that he had let me through in the first place. Even if he did rat me out, I didn’t care—either way, I was dead. Cameron had confirmed this himself. What I did, or didn’t do, didn’t matter anymore. It had never mattered. I was just a pawn in Cameron’s twisted game.
I ran straight to my room and plopped myself onto the bed. My teeth and my fists were tightly clenched and a few tears started escaping.