AMELIA

Listening to a history audiobook through my headphones, I was diligently restocking the clothes rack as winter requested, when I suddenly felt my headphones forcefully yanked from my ears.

Startled, I swerve, and there's Cam, grinning from ear to ear, my headphones now draped around my neck.

No! I mentally lamented.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, and he responds, holding out his hands, Carl's Jr. takeout in tow.

"You didn't stop by home. I figured you might be hungry."

I'm torn between being mad at him or not, considering that what he did is a bit considerate. But I am not letting him know that.

When I didn't answer and continued putting up the shirts, uncertain about how to feel, he stepped forward, peeking at me, "I still haven't poisoned you," he said.

A small smile tugs at my lips, and I stop, facing him with my hands folding across my chest, trying to appear nonchalant. "Cam, don't you think if I wanted to go back to your house and eat, I would have?"

His lips part as if to speak, but he halts. He seems concerned, it's really fun watching.

"Maybe I just don't want to see you," I tell him.

"You do realize you stay there too?"

"Of all the things I say, this is your response? Okay, let's be clear about the living situation. That hell you call home will never be a home to me. In that house, I've made worse memories in days than I did my whole life." I spat at the mute man staring back at me. "But Jake and I will move out and find our place. It might be small, but it will be full of joy and love. There won't be girls coming in and out whenever they like because only the two of us have the keys."

"You think I am the worst," he asks frowning.

I laugh uncontrollably, but it is only full of temper. Do I think he's the worst?

"Let me see," I sarcastically appear thoughtful. "Have I ever been humiliated and insulted in my life before I knew you? I don't think so. I used to have my dignity. No one ever did a quarter inch of what you did to me."

His jaw clenches, and his brows knit, turning gloomy.

"I've apologized a hundred times for what happened the first time, even though we are both responsible for it. Look, Princess, I'm striving for reconciliation; I'm persistently attempting to make amends with you." He sounds strained like he's losing his patience.

Did I even ask him to come to my workplace in the first place?

"Well, do not," I grit, wishing I could shove him out of here and my entire life. God, how much I wish a reverse button exists in human lives. "Can't you see I do not want you to? What is this that you're doing?" I wave him up and down. "Why were you holding my hand in class? What is with you and Harper? What are the threats to Jake and my relationship about? Why do you have to lie about Malia? I know nothing happened between you. But why will you get into my head and say all the cruelest things? Why?" My tone is harsh and loud, seething and confused about everything involving him.

And how dare he turn his eyes away to the side? Why can't he look me in the eye since he's bold enough to be so cruel?

His jaw is sharpened more than natural, adding contour to the shadow that sets on his features.

He shouldn't be a coward; we both know he's not the kind to chicken away from anything.

"Look at me! Tell me why you are doing this to me. Why are you torturing me, Cameron?" I yell, and he looks back at my blazing eyes, fuming too. His shoulders tense, but he wouldn't say anything still, he just kept swallowing and expelling audible breaths. I wait for seconds, holding his eyes until he finally thinks of a reply.

"I just wanted to bring you dinner," he calmly says all of a sudden, beckoning at the package in his hands.

For goodness sake.

"I do not want anything from you." I lurch at him, he's gotten me to the edge of my tolerance. I shoved him with all my might, but he wouldn't budge, only looking at me with a sign of guilt.

He knew what he was doing. It is all intentional.

"What's happening over there?" Winter's curiosity comes in a chiding tone from behind me, and I freeze.

It's over for me. She's going to fire me. Of course, the jerk came over for this purpose.

Panicking yet struggling to maintain composure, I turn with a forced smile, 'Nothing.'"

After what seems like a moment of reflection, Winter asks in irritation, "Why are you screaming? There are customers, and you're scaring them."

"I am sorry." That is all I can say. I was so carried away by the moment with all that was eating me inside that I didn't know I was letting him win again.

Winter doesn't look satisfied with my reply.

"If we lost a buyer because of your behavior, bear in mind it's coming out of your paycheck." She warns as she does with other employees here. It's my first threat coming from her. If this persists, I might end up without a job.

In the midst of my thoughts, I hear Cameron grumbling from behind me, "Why would you say that to her?"

Not this.

"Cameron!" I gritted in silent warning, glancing at him over my shoulder.

He doesn't look over; his eyes are blazing with fire towards my boss. "What's wrong with you?" he growls, instinctively bringing me to hold him back.

"Cameron, stop."

"You didn't even ask if I was causing any trouble or if she's okay. You just assume she's at fault?" He challenges Winter.

As though I'm a fly, he wouldn't acknowledge me. He was carried away by the fuel of wanting to be an ass after our conversation because it didn't go as he wanted.

"Cam, leave, right now." I keep pushing him away from a calm Winter, who is definitely kicking me out of her store. If I'm lucky, she didn't file a report against me.

"Is this how you treat your employees?"

"This is not the case..." She informs him, but she doesn't get to finish; he cuts her off.

"You turn away eyes from seeing and ears from listening is what it is. All you care about is your profits," he yells, piercing my ears.

I look up to him, pressing him back from the chest, "Cameron, please. Do not."

He looks down then, panting and raging. We just had a talk; he's making this dramatic.

"It's not okay," he shakes his head.

I can't with him. "Just leave. Leave me alone," I sternly tell him.

"I am not leaving you here," he retorts, worries on his face, making me laugh like I'm mad.

"Stop acting as though I'm in prison and there's danger everywhere when my danger is you," I spit, struggling to maintain the volume of my voice. His eyes close, and his throat shifts. "It's my job. Unlike you, I don't get the privileges of 5-acre mansions, Aston Martins, and family business. I work. So don't. Don't come here to ruin what I am building for myself because you want to mess with me for your own fun. Fucking leave." I emphasize furiously, locking drilling eyes with him.

He breathes, his jaw tightening. I know he's not going to take this any better. He's never been good with his temper. Tears well up in my eyes; I struggle to control the tremble of my lips and stare back at him, sniffing shakily, knowing what is to come.

Cam lowers his head and holds out the package in his hand. I briefly look over and back to him. He smiles small. "I thought you wanted Mac and Cheese."

Folding my lips and wetting them as I collect, I feel this dart of sadness. And it gets worse when he steps back and turns away, leaving.

A tear drops then. I have to dab it under my eye and blink back those brimming in my vision before I turn around to Winter. Hoping I look okay.

"I am sorry about that," I apologize with my head down. "It won't happen again."

She doesn't say anything more and leaves after silently inspecting me.

I stroll to the dressing rooms and settle in one of the empty cubicles. And then I cry my eyes out in silence, even more, when I open the takeout because Carl's Jr doesn't make Mac and Cheese. This smells so much like the meal from the second day at Cam's house.

Why is this happening to me? Why can't I get my mind straight?

I spend a good amount of time composing myself, eating the mouthwatering dinner, and feeling even better. I return to work much easier, focusing on restocking and cleaning things other than the voices in my head.

The mall closes at ten, so our store closes twenty minutes before then. I grab my things from the locker and am on the phone with Malia when I wave at Aiden and Alex, leaving the store, and there's this blaring sound.

That loud sound it makes when something stolen passes through the door.

In this case, no one passed through the door; it was me.

My chest starts beating as though I would pass out, seeing everyone coming at me, including the mall security.

"Do not move," Aiden pleads as if I am a criminal to negotiate with.

This means I am a thief now.

I didn't know what to do; I began dialing Jake, my hands trembling. He didn't pick up, and I was sent to voicemail. Maybe if I text him and he sees the urgency of it, he will respond. I swipe to messages, my fingers struggling to type when my eyes land on his location. It says Cannon Beach.

"Amelia, hands up." A loud voice instructs.

I am screwed.