It was me.
It had been taken in Palm Valley, the day of the robbery. I recognized the outfit I was wearing. I had stopped at a gas station on the way back from Joshua Tree and was pumping Jose. I was looking off into the distance, deep in thought, probably too busy planning my con to even take notice of the world around me. You’d think I would have picked up on someone taking my picture, even if they were across the street. But I hadn’t.
And there it was. A grainy, black and white photocopy of me from a few days ago.
Below it it said “Ellie Watt or Eden White.”
Below that it said “$50,000.”
Below that it had a phone number with a Biloxi area code.
And below that it said the name “Javier.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I could only stare dumbly at the paper as it trembled in my hands. My thoughts had been blasted into submission. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing or if my heart was beating or if the shock had wiped away everything like a giant supernova. Was I even there in Camden’s tattoo shop? Had I died somewhere along the way? Was I in Hell? Purgatory? Was this the end?
Though my first instinct was to flee, to bolt out the door and never look back, I didn’t have the strength. Not at first. I sank to my knees behind the counter and put my face into my hands. The picture floated to the floor.
How the hell did Javier find me? All these years later, how did he find me? All those years that he knew me, he only knew me as Eden White. I made up a whole new background for myself and took on a whole new life. The whole relationship was a living lie and I never slipped up, not even once. I was young and in love and way in over my head but I never slipped up.
You probably shouldn’t have stolen his car though, I told myself. You shouldn’t have been so…sentimental.
I exhaled as slowly as I could to keep the shakes from getting inside me. I sure had a knack for pissing off men and making them hold grudges. They sure had a knack of making me pay for it.
I had to get out of there. I had to go, now.
But before I could, I heard steps on the wooden porch. I froze then shrank back against the counter, hidden from view.
The door opened, then closed. A lock slid across. Footsteps came across the hardwood floors, slowing down as they approached the counter. The paper. My eyes shot to it, lying on the ground beside me, a picture of an Ellie Watt I’d never get to be again.
The steps came—one, two.
Camden poked his head above the counter, staring down at me.
“Ellie?” he asked quietly.
I couldn’t answer him. The fear, it was too much. It was a hand in my stomach reaching for my lungs and squeezing them. It pulled down at my heart until I felt it drop.
“Ellie,” he said, a little more loudly. He crouched down beside me. I covered up my face, shaking my head, mumbling, trembling, trying to breathe. I gasped loudly, mouth open, not getting enough oxygen. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. Grey dots filled my vision.
“Okay, calm down,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”
I didn’t hear him. I couldn’t breathe. That’s all I could think about, the fact that I couldn’t breathe.
“Please,” he said, now holding my hand. His voice was gentle and soothing but had no damn effect on me. “You’re having a panic attack. I can understand why. I know a bit about panic attacks myself. I can get you some pills, okay? You have to come with me. I don’t want to leave you here alone. All right?”
He started pulling me up, but I was too weak to move and too terrified. He snatched up the picture of me and crammed it in his pocket. Then he looked around him nervously, reached over, and pulled me up over his shoulders. I went as limp as a ragdoll.
He carried me upstairs to the house, and the whole time I wished I had enough breath to get away, to make a run for it. There was no way I’d be getting out of that house on my own free will.
He placed me on the couch and disappeared to the bathroom. When he came out, he was holding a small prescription bottle. He tapped out a few yellow pills into his hand then held them in front of my mouth.
“Open up,” he coaxed me. “They dissolve under your tongue.”
Except Ativan was white, not yellow. He was trying to drug me.
“No,” I tried to say, but it came out like a whisper.
“Ellie, open up. These are for panic attacks. It’s like Ativan, but better.”
I shook my head but was afraid it was a losing race. I could suffocate to death. Or he could drug me and turn me over to Javier for a cool reward of $50,000.
I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.
And I didn’t have a choice. Camden opened my mouth for me and stuck the pills under my tongue, his fingers tasting like the latex from the gloves he had worn earlier.