Page 60 of The Two Last Moments

Cam seems like he’s deflating as he listens. If he’s the one who hit me with the car, then he’s got me fooled. By the end of it, he and I are both shaking.

“You’re okay? Physically?”

“Mostly.”

“But you don’t remember me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t.”

“Fuck,” Cam murmurs, looking down at the concrete. “You lived with me for a year and a half. We were in love.”

I hug my arms around my middle. From the corner of my eye, I see Danny lean against the brick wall as he moves his weight from one foot to the other.

“Denise said I did freelance work? I would bring my laptop here?”

Cam smiles wistfully. “Yeah, you did. You knew a little about everything, and you did whatever work you could drum up. You were a virtual assistant, did online marketing stuff and spreadsheets. Plus you and I delivered food and flowers and valeted cars sometimes. It’s expensive living around here, so it can be tough. But it was good for a while.Us, I mean. We were good.”

I wish Ididfeel something for Cam. Just so that I’d know whether his story is true. I have sympathy for him because I don’t want to see anyone upset. But it’s nothing more than that.

“Do you know how old I am?”

That question seems to throw him. “You said you were twenty-three. Your birthday was last month. So twenty-four.”

Then Kathy didn’t lie about that, either. “How did you and I meet?”

He exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “At Northern California College. We had classes together. You told me your name was Lark Richards, and I was…crazy about you, I guess. We fell for each other fast, and you moved in with me. But you said your family wouldn’t approve. We decided to run off together and move down here to Solvang.”

“Why wouldn’t my family approve?”

His expression darkens. “You didn’t want me to meet them. You were secretive about your past. Never wanted to work at places that needed formal paperwork. After a while, you admitted Richards wasn’t even your real name. You said your family was a bunch of grifters, basically. Con artists.”

“Con artists? They stole from people?” I ask incredulously. My wide-eyed gaze meets Danny’s, and he’s equally shocked.

“Yeah, you grew up with that. But as you got older, you tried to be different. That’s why you were taking college classes. Why you wanted to run away to Southern California. But after a few months, your family tracked you down. Your stepbrother, specifically. He found you.”

A stepbrother. Fingers of ice trace down my spine. A whisper of instinctual fear.

“Does this stepbrother have a name?” Danny asks.

“Lark just called him ‘Z.’ He was trouble.” Cam looks away from me, clearly uncomfortable. “Z was always bugging you after he tracked you down. Coming around. He was an asshole.”

“What did he look like?” Danny asks.

“I don’t know, average. Brown hair and eyes. Little stocky. He liked getting in my face when I tried to defend you. I threatened to call the cops on him for harassment, but you wouldn’t go through with it.”

My knees go weak, and I sit at one of the patio tables.

“Then, about six months ago, he came to you with abusiness proposition. That’s what he called it.”

“What does that mean?”

“You would never tell me the exact details. But it sounded like he’d found a mark, somebody rich, and he wanted your help setting up a con. Whatever he offered, whatever hold he had on you, it was enough for you to agree.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, leaning on the table.

“You kept disappearing. Keeping so many secrets. Then one day, about two months ago, you came home covered in bruises, and I just snapped. I yelled. Told you that you had to cut ties with your stepbrother. You broke up with me, and that’s the last time I saw you. If I’d known where you were, I would’ve come to find you and, you know, tried to make up.”

Cam takes a step toward me, reaching out. Danny pushes off the brick wall to head him off, standing between us.

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