When we're done, he rests his forehead on mine and I press back.

"I love you, Camilla."

"I love you too, Arthur 'King' Stone." I feel my body shake at the reaffirmation. Beside all the trouble that both of us went through, we can still find this moment to be together. To grow our relationship and work toward the future.

The sound of my phone chirping breaks the little romantic moment.

"It's Jean," I say. There's an ache in my stomach as I pick it up.

"Cam--Camilla," his voice breaks several times before he's able to get my name out. "Camilla, I -- I need your help." I hear the whisper of someone's voice behind him. Almost like the person is telling Jean what to do.

"What's wrong?" I press the phone so hard against my ear that I could hear every little move of Jean's mouth.

"You need to come back to your apartment. He won't let me go until you come back."

"Who won't let you go?" I ask, before it dawns on me.

That fucker.

"You let him go, Tommy. Let Jean go."

"I'm scared, Camil-" Jean's voice disappears from the phone only to be replaced by some raspy breathing.

"If you ever want to see Jean again you need to come back." Tommy's voice bleeds through the phone and sends a chill running through my spine. King and Cat are close to me, their ears next to the phone, listening in.

"Tommy, leave Jean out of this. He has nothing to--."

"COME BACK RIGHT NOW!" I pull the phone away from my ear and almost throw it at the windshield in frustration, but I stop myself. All for the sake of Jean.

"What do you need from me?" I bring a nail to my mouth and clamp down on it. All the little things that he could do to Jean while we talk. Jean's innocent in all of this.

"Put your man on the line." The words leave his mouth like venom.

King takes the phone from my hand and listens to Tommy's demands. He doesn't say much except the occasional yes.

King lowers the phone. "You better not fucking hurt a hair on his head," I shout. I reach for the phone, but King stops me.

"He hung up."

I still take it from his hand and whirl it out in front of me. It hits the bottom of the windshield and leaves a small crack. This time it's my turn to be angry.

I yell out in frustration. I slam my fists against the dashboard. Over. And over. Until they're as red as ripe tomatoes.

Nobody stops me.

"Let's go get this fucker," I say when I've had time to calm myself down. I clip myself in as King roars the Camaro awake.

One way or another, Tommy is going to get what's coming to him.

I'm sure of that much.

Chapter 18.

I look up at the charred remains of my loft. The police and fire department are nowhere to be found. They must have figured that I wasn't home when it happened. But right now that's the least of my worries.

King and I hop out of the car and make our way to the back of the loft. To the alley where we can get a little more privacy. We'd dropped Cat a couple blocks back. One of Tommy's demands was that only King and I come. No one else.

When we round the corner to the alley, I get a glimpse of Tommy's van. It's beat up and I'm surprised he managed to bring it back all the way here without garnering more attention. The back bumper is missing, one of the taillights is busted, and there's a huge dent in the back door.

It kind of matches his weird and crazy personality. The kind of van that a parent would take a second look at when it passes by their neighborhood.

"Tommy?" King shouts, his voice bouncing off the nearby ash-covered walls. The smell of burnt wood overwhelms the smells from the dumpsters that surround us. There's no way that King could have fit his Camaro in here. Not without scratching it.

"About fucking time," his wheezing voice answers. Tommy pulls a helpless Jean out from the side of the van, a gun pressed against the side of his temple. "Jean and I were getting a little worried that you wouldn't show up." Tommy pushes the gun a little harder on Jean's forehead.

Jean lets out a little whimper and closes his eyes. I curl my fists, which are still a little raw from before. A couple swings into Tommy's acne-covered face might actually help heal them a little.

"Just put the gun down now." King lowers his hand down in front of him, motioning for Tommy to the same. King's words are slow and coherent. This is part of the plan that we discussed with everyone. King and I need to buy time for as long as possible.

"Don't tell me what to fucking do," Tommy shouts back. He raises the butt of the gun a little and swings down, nearly missing the side of Jean's forehead. "I have the gun. I have the power." He waves it out in front of him, pointing at King and then stopping at me. His hand shakes as he looks at me, biting down on his lip and wiping his nose on Jean's collar.

This is my chance. "Tommy, you were so nice when you came to install my locks. Can you do me a favor and just lower the gun?" I walk toward him. King shoots out a hand to his side, but I ignore it.

The only way I can get through Tommy right now is by giving him what he wants. At least, what he thinks he wants. Use those delusional fantasies of his to my advantage.

Tommy lowers the gun for a second. It's about halfway in front of him when it flies back and is pointing at King. "Why him? What does he have that I don't?" Tommy waves the gun in front of him. Never letting King out of his iron sights.

"Tommy, it isn't that easy." I hold my hands up to my sides to show that I'm not hiding anything. I take another step forward.

Inch by inch, I put a little distance between King and I. Until I find myself halfway between Tommy and King. "I need you to take a deep breath and lower your gun."

Tommy looks at me out of the corner of his eye before bringing the gun back to Jean's head. "Or I could just end it all right now. Make sure all of you get what's coming to you." His hand shakes above Jean's head, his index finger inside the trigger guard.

"If you do that, then I'll never be yours. Don't you want to be with me?" I hate the words that are coming out of my mouth. I want to vomit right then and there, and it's not because of the smell coming from the dumpsters.

Tommy looks at me, his eyes locked in on my chest before he moves down my body. He licks his bottom lip for a moment, going over a zit with his tongue.

I want to hurl. Instead, I put on my best smile, sway my hips, and take another step toward him.

"Just let him go. Then you and I can talk about our future together."

Tommy contemplates my words for a moment, the gun wavering for the first time. It drops down to his side and that's when King takes a step forward behind me.

"Don't you fucking move," Tommy shouts. The gun is back on King, aimed right at his chest. "Take another step and I'll fucking shoot you." Tommy looks at me and then at Jean.

Jean opens his eyes and whimpers for a moment. "Cami, help me." He tries to peel Tommy's hands away from his chest, but Tommy pulls him back and waves the gun out in front of me.

"Why did you have to pick her?" Tommy yells into Jean's ears. "Was my art not good enough for your gallery?"

Jean shrugs his shoulders and eyes Tommy out of the corner of his eyes. "I can look at your work again. We can have a special feature just for you, if that's what you want." He holds out his hands in front of him.

"It's too late for that." Tommy takes the butt of his gun and slams it across Jean's face.

Blood flies everywhere and Jean lets out a scream. I bring a hand to my mouth and watch as Jean coughs up and spits a ball of blood.

"How dare you?" Tommy pushes the barrel of the gun right over Jean's ear and screams the same words. Over and over. "I can end you right here and now."

"No!" I scream. I clench my fists together and want nothing more than to beat them into Tommy's oval-shaped head. To knock away those sweaty, fat hands of his.

Tommy looks at me. His finger pressing down on the trigger. His beady little eyes scurry from me over to King.

"You for him." He points the gun from me to Jean. "That's what I want."

"That wasn't the deal," King roars behind me, taking another step forward.

Tommy points his gun at him and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't care. I want her." He looks at me and licks his lips again. Almost like I am a full course meal that he is about to devour.

"I can't do that," King says. "You're not getting Camilla, you fucking psycho."

Hate.

That's the best way that I can describe how Tommy looks at King.

"I'm not fucking crazy. Why does everyone keep saying that?" He slams his feet down on the ground, sending water from a nearby puddle flying into the air. He's acting like an angry kid who's been put on a time out. Tommy continues to slam his feet into the ground. That is, until the gun flies out of his flimsy little wrist.

His eyes open wide and he tries to catch it in the air. Meanwhile, King reaches behind him and pulls out his gun.

Tommy takes Jean down to the ground with him, his nails scratching on concrete reaching for the gun. When he manages to get his pudgy fingers around it, he aims it straight at King. Jean moans and coughs up blood into the dirty pool water that he's now lying in.

"I'll shoot you," King says, his finger already behind the trigger guard. I know for a fact that King isn't joking around. Not after all the shit that Tommy's put us through and what he's done to Jean.

Tommy uses Jean's body to cover as much of his own torso. He pushes his head forward on Jean's backside. Tommy looks around the alley until his eyes fall on me. He turns the barrel to me and I take a step back. "You shoot me and I'll kill her."

There's nowhere that I can run. Not in time to dodge a bullet. The nearest dumpster that I can use for cover is at least five feet away. There's no way that I can make it in time.

King puts a hand up, but still holds his gun on Tommy. "Don't do anything rash now. Let's just talk this out." King takes another step forward.

Bang.

Jean lets out a scream and I jump into the air. The brick above my head explodes, pebbles bouncing off the back of my neck. I turn my head.

There's a three inch hole on the brick behind me. That could have been my head. I bring my hands up and stand still.

"Next time that will be her head," Tommy yells.

King looks over at me, concern in his eyes. There's not much he can do. He can't lower his gun. Tommy's too irrational to believe a word that he's saying. "Are you okay?"

I nod.

I'm okay. As okay as person can be after a bullet just barely missed them. My heart races and I close my eyes.

Chapter 19.

Nobody has moved for the last ten minutes. No words have been spoken. And the tension in the air is as thick as ever.

The adrenaline from almost being shot has passed. King and Tommy still stare at each other.

King has his barrel trained on Tommy, his arm unwavering. Meanwhile, Tommy is struggling to keep his on me. It keeps wobbling in the air like he's going to lose steam at any minute.

And when that happens, King will pounce.

"Tommy, you need to stop this. I can't be with you if you shoot me." I plead with him for the fifth time. Anything to play with his emotions. But my words have been falling on deaf ears. He doesn't take his eyes off of King for a second.

Somewhere in the last ten minutes, Jean's passed out. After Tommy's near shot on me, I'm pretty sure he fainted from the thought of me getting hit. The blood still runs down the side of his lip, pooling down into the concrete.

I take a step forward. I want nothing more than to help him. It pains me to see Jean covered in blood with a swollen face. The man's done nothing wrong in all this. Only helped a desperate artist.

"Don't you take another step," Tommy says. "If you do that again, you're a goner." His finger pulls back on the trigger, only stopping halfway.

I press my back against the wall and nod to his request, throwing King a look. I need them both to calm down. It's only a matter of time before they show up. When that happens there's nothing that Tommy can do. It's just a matter of keeping King cool long enough for that to happen.

That's when it happens. The roar of engines fills the small alley. The noise is so loud that even Jean wakes up. On both ends of the alley, headlights turn on and blind all of us.

Tommy turns his head left and right, trying to get a better view. There's only confusion in his eyes. King and I share a small smile. This is what we'd been waiting for. What King had spent time arranging before we met with Tommy.

Tommy starts to wave his gun around, at every biker and rider that appears in the alley. He's lost focus of me. There's nowhere for him to run. He's cornered on all sides by the meanest, nastiest sons of bitches in Portland.

In the midst of all the chaos, King makes a move toward Tommy. King kneels down to grab the gun out of Tommy's hand when Tommy locks eyes on King. He brings up the gun confidently and aims it at King's chest. A hundred different guns' cock around us, all aimed at Tommy.

"What's going on?" he screams. His hand trembles for a moment, almost pulling on the trigger. He stops himself, knowing that it might not be the wisest move he could make when surrounded.

To my left, Cat, Tank, and Lucky Jake pull up like they don't have a care in the world. They pop the stands on their bikes and pull out their guns. All of them point at Tommy.