"My soul is a dark place, but I know your love. My soul is a lonely place, but I'm not alone." –Wild Wolves, Athlete

"What do you want?"

I spun the wheelchair around to face Jeremy the next morning, who was leaning against one of the metal scaffolds that held up the bleachers. His pale arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyebrow was cocked as he watched me.

"Is that any way to talk to an injured girl?" I asked, gesturing to my incapacitated legs, scrapes and bruises.

He rolled his eyes. "All I see when I look at you is karma, Camila."

My jaw dropped open. "Ouch. Oh, my poor feelings. How will I ever recover?"

He turned around to begin walking away, and a flash of desperation coursed through me. "Okay, Jeremy, wait!" I called, clenching my fingers tightly around the arm grip of my wheelchair.

He spun around, and a lank of muddy brown hair fell over his dark eyes. "What? If you came here for a fight, I'm not in the mood to play games."

"I'm not," I told him, and this time I meant it. The time for messing around and fighting was done.

"Then why are you here? It's not often I have to meet with someone like Camila Stryker underneath a shady part of the bleachers. What do you need?"

"I need serapax," I told him slowly. "You know, the drug that calms you down. I'm not looking for a hallucinogen; just a stimulant."

"Why?" he asked, too taken aback to form a sarcastic comment. "I didn't realize you were much of a junkie, Cam. Kind of hypocritical for you to be ragging on Perrie, then, isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, she's not a junkie. She just got mixed up with the white trash. Secondly, it's not for me," I snapped. "It's for someone else. They need a favor."

"Who?" Jeremy asked curiously, as if he weren't perfectly aware of my policy for discretion.

"I'm not at liberty to say," I told him primly.

He rolled his eyes at my good-girl act, but I guess any chance at money is as good as any. "All right, fine," he said tiredly. "When do you need it by?"

"Friday," I told him, and he let out a low whistle.

"Fine. Fifty bucks, and you've got yourself a deal."

I pulled out my wallet and handed out the bill unflinchingly. Fifty bucks was child's play; especially for the dirt I'd just dug up on Tyler.

            He looked around, before shoving the note into his pocket, and kept his hands there. "I'll leave a note in your locker on Friday. Don't be late."

"Am I ever?" I replied, but he was already turning around and walking away, acting in a manner of someone who believed they had much better things to do than spend time with a girl like me.

"It was lovely talking to you, Jeremy!" I called out, a smirk twisting my lips.

"I wish I could say the same!" he yelled back over his shoulder without turning around. My lips thinned, and I watched him leave, a bolt of hatred coursing through me.

It wasn't often someone got the last word in against me, but, when it did happen, it was definitely irritating.

~          *          ~

That afternoon, Zach drove me down to the boardwalk of Leighton Fields, which boasted some of the best waves and gelato on the coast. Surfers swam out to catch the tides in the distance, and as the sun set, waves rippled to the shore and kids ran around on the sand, unaware of the dark turn their life would take when they spent their teenage years in Leighton Fields.

"You'd think with views like this, Leighton Fields would have taken a completely different turn," Zach said as he helped me from the car into the wheelchair. I grimaced and quickly swallowed two painkillers while he had his back turned.

"You mean we'd be a hippie town and not, well, Leighton Fields?" I replied, smiling up at him as he took the reigns of the chair and started wheeling me off.

He grinned. "That's exactly what I mean."

It really was a wonder my blessed town had turned out the way it had. Why argue over petty things when you could enjoy the wonderful establishments Leighton Fields had to offer? But then again, no one here was prone to enjoying such lovely sights. They'd rather watch something burn than bloom.

He rolled me down the pavement, and I did my best to ignore the curious stares I was receiving from onlookers. It wasn't everyday you saw Camila Stryker in a vulnerable position, but it's hard to care when you're in the company of someone like Zachary Templeton.

            But it didn't stop me from assessing the face of every person we passed, wondering if they were the one to plow me down. I looked into their eyes for any sign of satisfaction at seeing me there—at least, beyond the amount everyone was feeling, considering how I held their most precious secrets in the palm of my hands.

            I think what's even worse than knowing someone wanted to do this to you was being unable to identify the perpetrator because there was just so many suspects. Who didn't want to do this to me was a much easier question to answer than who did want to do this to me. Whose secret was so bad that they wished to see me dead? And just how far were they willing to go to achieve it?

            "Are you okay?" Zach asked, and I was jolted back to reality with a harsh slap. "You're being awfully quiet."

            I sighed as he rolled us to the end of the boardwalk, and I looked around to see if anyone was there. Besides a few lonely seagulls looking for their next feed, we were the only two in view. "Zach, can I tell you something?" I asked.

            He came around to where I was sitting and kneeled down in front of me, taking my hands into his warm ones. "Of course you can, Cammie. You can tell me anything."

            I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his hands in mine, mustering up the courage to blurt out what was haunting me. "The car that hit me, it wasn't an accident."

            "What?" Zach whispered, searching my eyes with his own.

            "The car that hit me didn't lose control. It swerved onto the sidewalk and hit me at sixty miles an hour. I don't know who did it, but they had every intention of killing me."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He didn't question my medication dosage like Perrie did. It was reassuring to know someone believed me beyond a shadow of a doubt.

            I nodded. "I'm sure."

            He stood up suddenly. "We need to call the police."

            I grabbed his arm with my good one and shook my head. "No, Zach, you can't."

            He looked down at me. "Are you joking? Cammie, this is serious. We need to call the police."

            "They can't do anything," I told him. "I didn't see who was driving, I can't remember the license plate... They wouldn't believe me." Not to mention the fact right now with the investigation into the fire underway I really didn't need any more attention from the police.

            "Well, we can't just sit here and do nothing!" Zach told me. "We have to catch this guy and lock him up. Next time you might not be so lucky."

"I know that," I told him. "And I'm working on it. I'll pull every string I have, give away everything I can if that's what it takes. I'm not just doing nothing. I'm gonna figure this out."

"How?"

I winked at him. "That's a dangerous secret. You just have to trust me."

"This goes a little beyond trust, Cammie," Zach told me. "Someone is trying to kill my girlfriend. We need to catch them."

"Did you just call me your girlfriend?" I asked breathlessly, shocked by the words he'd spoken.

He looked down at me slowly. "I mean, aren't you? We go on dates, we kiss, I sneak into hospitals to see you and buy you flowers... I'm pretty sure that constitutes a relationship."

"Say it again," I whispered. I hadn't really ever been someone's 'girlfriend' before, and hearing someone call me it elicited a very childish reaction in me that was totally out of character.

He leaned down on me. "You're my girlfriend."

I reached up and brought his lips to mine, knowing that in a world that was quickly turning dangerous, he was the one thing that was safe. He still didn't know Natalie had set me on his path, and if I had my way, he never would. It wasn't like me to lose my inhibitions ever, but something about the seduction of all things Zachary Templeton  had me craving that feeling of weightlessness and freedom.

I didn't care what danger was out there.

With Zach by my side, I would always feel safe.

And, dare I say it?

Maybe I loved him.

~          *          ~

This chapter is terribly, unbearably short, but I have had the worst writer's block ever on this book, and I barely managed to write this one without throwing myself off a cliff (I've literally been writing this chapter since November 2014, which, for those who don't know, was 8 months ago).

All the same, I hope you enjoyed! And here's to hoping my inspiration comes back to me soon :)

Much love xx