Dylan's POV

I convinced Cameron to come to work with me to help out with my bike which had been parked in my office for months now. When we got there, Remo grabbed my arm and dragged me away from her.

"Really?" he hissed. "The sheriff's kid?"

"She said she used to hang out here all the time," I shrugged, not sure why it was such a big deal.

"Yeah, then she decided to commit murder," he huffed.

"Were you there?" I asked.

"Yeah, it was insane." I could tell he wanted to shout, but was speaking in a hushed voice since Cameron was only a couple yards away. "She probably could have made a living off of being a killer."

I shrugged again, not sure what he meant. "She said she got angry and lost it. She was only defending her friends."

"Oh she was defending us," he scoffed. "But I don't think she ever lost control."

"Twenty-two times is in control?" I laughed.

Remo chuckled, too. "Fair enough."

Cameron wandered over towards us. I guess she decided she had given us enough time to talk about her. "It is so strange being back here."

"How long has it been?" I asked, putting my arm around her shoulders.

"Three. Only three years, but it feels like a lifetime," she answered.

"Good to have you back, kid," Remo playfully hit her on the shoulder and the let us be.

"Remo, uh, said he was there that night," I prodded.

"Yeah, he was," she replied. "Is there a question in there?"

I wasn't sure what I was asking her, but his comments had created doubt in my mind. Maybe things hadn't happened as she said they had, but it's not like she was dangerous. "Nah," I shook my head. "I just want you to know that no matter what happened that night, I'm gonna stick by you."

She leaned up to kiss me. "I'm sorry for lying to you," she said. "I'm actually an assassin for the CIA. They recruited me when I was only thirteen."

I burst out into laughter and brought her to my office where we could work on the bike.

Cameron's POV

Remo sat on the sofa, shotgun across his lap. I barely even looked at him as we crossed the room. My eyes were fixed on the motorcycle. I had missed it. It was so much more fun than a pick-up truck.

"Dylan, I think your mom is here," Remo chuckled.

We looked over at the television screen that displayed the feed from the security cameras. A woman was freaking the fuck out at the front door; it couldn't have been anybody other than Norma. Dylan groaned and went to get her, leaving me alone with Remo.

"What the fuck did you say to him?" I asked when Dylan had left.

"Just that I didn't think you lost control," he admitted without hesitation and a shrug.

I couldn't believe it. "Have you thought that about me this whole time? That I'm a cold-hearted killer?"

"No, we've all killed people in this business. I don't judge you for killing them or lying to the cops, but I think that's what you did; you lied because you knew exactly what you were doing each time you stabbed that guy," Remo explained.

I chewed on my lip, mulling this over, neither disputing his claim nor confirming it.

Dylan returned to tell us he had to leave. He had to go talk to Jodi about Zane. He put me in his truck to drive me back home before he drove out to Oceanview.

"I gotta admit, I'm a bit jealous," I chuckled nervously.

"She's just my boss," Dylan scoffed at the idea.

"She's your friend," I corrected him.

"Alright, she's cool, but I don't look at her like that," he reached over to grab my hand reassuringly. "I'm living with you. I'm in love with you. There's only you."

"Promise?" I had to ask.

"Promise," Dylan echoed. "But…"

I dropped his hand. "But what?"

"We need a bigger place."

I laughed and when I thought I had gotten over it, I laughed some more. I was being ridiculous. "Yeah, we do."

Dylan appeared in the front doorway, his build taking up a good portion of the frame and leaving him a silhouette with the sun shining just over his shoulders.

"What the hell?" I yelled running at him. I shove him back out of the apartment.

"Woah. Woah," he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into him.

I began pounding at his chest. "I haven't seen you in days! You don't call. You don't come home!"

He struggled to grab my wrists to stop the assault, but managed to succeed in pinning me against his chest. He rested his chin on top of my head and I was unable to move.

"You could have died!" I continued to cry. "Someone could have killed you. You couldn't even bother to text me?"

"I'm sorry," he sighed, loosening his grip on me. "I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't," I growled as I pushed away from him.

He followed me back into the apartment. "You probably already know what happened cause you know everything, but can I please complain?" He sighed.

"You're asking?" I scoffed and then realized how much of my shit he put up with. "I'll always listen to you when you want to bitch."

He wrapped his arms around my waist, picked me up, and pulled me onto the bed with him. "My life is so fucked," he began. "I killed Nick Ford, so my murder total is up to two just like you. Meanwhile, he had my brother locked up in an underground box and Norma wanted us to run away to Montreal just so he wouldn't have to take a polygraph test! Which he passed, by the way. Only after I watched Zane kill Jodi and your dad kill Zane."

"You win," I murmured into his chest. "Your life is more fucked up."

He laughed. "That makes me feel real good."

I shrugged, letting silence fill the apartment. But I had to speak when I realized a question was nagging at my insides. "We're you gonna go?"

"What? Go where?" He asked, already forgetting our previous conversation.

"To Montreal," I sighed.

"Nah," he kissed my forehead. "Norma only bought three tickets. Besides, we gotta go look at houses tomorrow."