I wake up early the next morning still ringing with her body, every inch of me still tasting her skin.

It’s a strange feeling, impossible to describe. We’re both stuck in this fucking impossible situation, both of our lives on the line, and yet we’re not on the same team. I don’t trust her and I know she doesn’t trust me. It’s just the way things are, maybe the way things have to be. But we came together last night, came together in a way I didn’t really expect.

She was so fucking sexy underneath all that anger. I don’t know what she’s been through, I don’t know her whole story, but I know one thing. She’s fucking beautiful in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I take a quick shower, leaving the bathroom door open. I can still see her body in bed, sleeping through the sunrise. I get out and towel off before getting dressed. We need to get some new clothes, and soon, but first I need to do something.

I sit at the table and watch her sleep for a few minutes. She looks peaceful, almost normal, like she was never addicted to anything in her life. I can almost picture her as any other suburban girl, growing up nice and clean and healthy and happy, running track and playing field hockey. Instead, she turned into the girl from the night we first met, bruise on her eye, junk in her veins, death at her feet.

The bruise is fading. The junk is out of her system. But death… that’s still lingering, still a possibility.

I sigh and slowly get up. I fish handcuffs from my bag and crouch down next to her, gently shaking her awake.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Time to get up.”

She blinks at me, smiling at first, but quickly covering that up. “What’s up?” she says.

“You gotta get up.”

“Huh.” She sits up slowly and sighs before falling back down onto her pillow. “Nah. I’d rather sleep.”

“Kay.” I pull the handcuffs up and snap one end around her right wrist. “Get up.”

She stares at the handcuff and then at me. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. Up.”

She hesitates another second before slowly getting to her feet. “What are you doing?”

I lead her into the bathroom and point at the floor next to the toilet.

“Down,” I say.

“What?”

“Get down on the floor.”

She hesitates a second. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m not playing around, Kay. Get down on the floor next to the toilet.”

“You really are a bastard.” Her eyes flash at me. “What are you gonna do if I refuse?”

“I’ll make you,” I say softly. “You know I can. Make this easy on both of us.”

She hesitates a second, chewing on that. I can sense her watching me, sizing me up. I hope she understands that I’m doing this for her own good. I can’t trust her now, not after she tried to run away last night, and I have something to take care of. I can’t risk her getting away.

She slowly sinks down onto the tile floor. I cuff her wrists around the base of the toilet, making sure she can get herself loose.

“Put the lid down at least,” she says.

I slowly lower it. “You okay?”

“Fuck you,” she says.

I hesitate. “I’ll be back soon.”

I head to the door. “You’re just as bad as all the others, you know that?”

Her words stop me short. I don’t turn around, because I don’t think I can handle the look in her eyes right now.

“You’re just as bad,” she snaps again. “You probably think you’re better, but you’re just a user. Just like everyone else.”

I nod a little. “I’ll be back soon.”

I hurry away before she can say anything else. I leave the room and make sure the door shuts behind me.

I’m surprised by how much that stung. I know she’s smart and can find my weaknesses, but I didn’t expect her to say something like that. She’s not wrong, not at all, and that’s the worst part of it all.

I tell myself I’m better. I’m getting out, I’m moving on. I’m not going to be just some criminal asshole anymore getting into fights for money. I’m making myself better.

She’s right, though. I’m not better, never was, never will be. Her old boyfriend hit her, treated her like shit, but at least he got her high and didn’t handcuff her to a fucking toilet.

Don’t get fucking soft now, Julian.

I head down into the parking lot and walk a couple blocks toward the pay phone. I try not to think about her voice, about her accusing eyes, her angry body, her beautiful skin, her lips against mine, her pussy wrapped around my hard cock. I want to taste her again so badly it hurts but now that night feels like some strange magic spell that came over us, and I don’t know how to summon it all back again.

I lean up against the wall next to the phone for a few minutes, just making sure the coast is clear. I drop in some change and dial, the number carved into my chest. It rings and rings and I’m about to hang up when the line clicks.

“Yes?”

The voice is haughty, almost lilting, like he’s annoyed that he’s answering his own private line.

“Hi, Hunter,” I say. “Have you missed me, old pal?”

There’s a short hesitation, and I know he’s surprised. He shouldn’t be. Hunter knows me, and he knows what I’m capable of. But I guess he’s forgotten after all these years. Can’t blame him, I guess.

“Julian,” he says, sounding genuinely pleased. “How are you?”

“Been better, but I’m hanging in there.”

“Good to hear, good to hear. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it really has,” I say. “How long since we last spoke?”

“Five years?” he asks. “Maybe longer. My word, five years. A very long time, long enough for a man to completely change.”

“You’re right about that,” I say. “But I doubt you’ll ever change.”

He laughs lightly. “Come now, Julian. I’m as steadfast as they come. I meant you, I hear you’re involved in all sorts of things.”

I can sense the undertone to his words. “I think you know all about that, don’t you?”

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” he says, chuckling. “Your low-class antics are far beyond my sight.”

“For some reason, Hunter, I don’t believe you. In fact, I think you’re lying right now, just like you always have.”

Another short pause. “I’ve never lied to you, dear friend.”

“Yes, you have, but we don’t need to relive old memories. I’m calling to talk about new ones.”

“New memories?” he asks. “Whatever could you mean?”

I clench my jaw. I hate his fake politeness, his upper-crust accent, his bullshit. It’s all fake, all put on. I know the real Hunter, the bastard and the killer and the snake. I know what he’s like, inside and out, because we were best friends for years before he betrayed me.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

The question comes out smooth and simple even if it feels like puking battery acid. Hunter laughs softly on the other end of the phone.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “Maybe that’s not what you intended that night. But now, that’s exactly what you want.”

“How much do you know about that girl you’re dragging around with you?” he asks suddenly, dropping the pretense. It catches me off guard.

“Not a lot,” I admit. “Not that it matters.”

“It should matter, Julian. She’s a liability, a distraction.”

I put my palm flat against the glass. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because the bitch’s boyfriend owed me money and I felt like making it interesting.”

His words are so casual and cavalier, it sends a spike through my heart. “I get why you wanted him dead, but why involve me?”

“Oh, come on, Julian,” he says softly. “You know me better than anyone. I think you can figure it out.”

I stare at the phone, at the scratches in the metal, the lettering slowly fading to nothing, a relic of a world gone on to something else. I briefly wonder about all the conversations this phone has had over its years and I wonder if it’s ever had something as strange as this one.

“We’ll leave town,” I say softly. “Leave Avalon, hell, all of Jersey. I’ll bring the girl, drag her along if I have to but I doubt I will. We’ll never come back to this state. We’ll never come back to this damn country, if that’s what you want.”

I hate saying these words. I hate asking for this chance. The fact that Hunter has this over me drives me fucking crazy, but I can’t deny the situation we’re in.

Hunter is insanely rich, wealthy beyond rational means. His family is descended from the old school mob, and they turned that money into more money. They own most of Avalon, and Hunter is the heir apparent to the family crown. He’s been building up his own little empire of thugs, thieves, and killers, running drugs and illegal card games and selling girls. If there’s money to be made at the Jersey shore, Hunter Oakes has his sticky, dirty fucking fingers in it.

The guy’s everywhere. And the worst part of him is, there’s no remorse, no feelings. He’s a psychopath, pure and simple. He hides it well, walks around in human clothes and says human words and even laughs and smiles like a human, but there’s a serpent behind those twinkling eyes. I knew it the day I saw him beat a guy just for accidentally stepping on his foot, beat the guy into a bloody pulp and laughed about it afterwards.

He’s a horror, a terror. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that he’s slowly taken over Avalon, and it won’t be a surprise to me if he takes over much more.

“No.”

I wince at the word, like it’s a knife in my eye. “No?”

“That’s not a deal I’m willing to accept.”

I sit there in silence for a second. I didn’t really think this would work, but there was hope, and hope can fucking hurt.

“He’s already dead,” I say softly. “The guy that owed you money is dead, I killed him. He’s the one you really care about, right? Why push this?”

“You think I cared about that dumb junkie fuck?” He laughs, almost hysterically. “You think that dumb fucking waste of air was important to me at all?”

“He’s the one that owed you money,” I say softly.

“Fuck money! I have enough money to buy the whole goddamn world. I don’t need money.”

“What do you want from me, Hunter?”

“I wanted him to kill you,” he says viciously. “I sent that dumb junkie there and I riled him up and I hoped he’d kill you for me so I wouldn’t have to. Believe it or not, Julian, I still have a soft spot for you.”

“Why?” I ask, nearly whispering.

“Because you know too much.”

I flash back into the past, back to when we were best friends. Just teenage kids, the rich boy and the poor boy, getting into trouble and flirting with girls. Except in Julian’s case, he wanted something else.

I open the door, heart beating fast. I hear muffled grunts, a gasp. I think they’re wrestling for a second, until Hunter looks up. “What the fuck, Julian?”

It takes me a second to understand: Hunter and Michael Banks, tangled up and sweating in a broom closet. Michael blinks, his cock hard and in Hunter’s hand. I back out of the closet and let the door swing shut.

“We were kids,” I say to him. “Fucking kids.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He laughs again, unhinged and cracking even more. “It was nice hearing from you, Julian. Tell the girl I say hello. I hear she’s very pretty. Maybe you should get a taste before you die? Heck, what am I saying, I bet you already have.”

He hangs up and the line goes dead.

I stare at the receiver in my hand before slowly hanging it up. Hunter, bastard, psycho, wants me dead. He wants me dead, specifically, not some junkie, not the girl, but me. I’m the fucking liability. I’m the danger.

All because of what I know. All because of the past. I thought it was gone, buried, forgotten, but no, it’s still lingering and fresh and crawling its way back into my life.

I walk slowly back to the motel. I’m in a daze, half broken, half alive. I crawl up the steps, slither toward the door, and slowly head in.

The bathroom’s empty. There’s a little blood on the floor.

I stare and stare and I think I’ll never understand what’s happening until it all clicks into place.

Kaylee escaped, and I’m fucked if I can’t find her.