"What?" Phyllis watched as Cameron tossed the phone onto the sofa beside her. "I thought you were going to talk to …" Her eyes darkened slightly. "Where is he? Where's Nick?"

"Maybe he's not as worried about you as you think he is," he said flatly. "Those talking heads claim they'll have him call back. No doubt they're going to coach on him on what he can and can't say. People like him don't know how to think for themselves. They've been so programmed their whole lives that nothing that comes out of their mouths is actually genuine. It's all a product of some well orchestrated publicity stunt."

She shook her head. "Nick's not like that," she sighed. "He's not. If he'd known everything that you'd gone through, he wouldn't have let the deal happen the way it did. I know it. Nick cares about people."

"If he cares so much, where is he? Why isn't he on the phone? Hell, why isn't he barreling in here to save you?" He leaned closer to her and watched with interest as the questions reflected in her eyes. "I'll tell you why. Nick Newman cares about himself and only himself. He cares about other people if and only if it suits him. You are an afterthought at best."

"That's not true. You don't know him like I do. It's not fair of you to say that."

"You know what's not fair. It's not fair that Nick Newman has this house. It's not fair that Nick Newman has a woman willing to fight for him and stick up for him. It's not fair that Nick Newman can treat people like total garbage and still manage to be beloved around this damn town. While someone like me, who adored his family, who would have walked through fire for them, makes a few mistakes for damn good reasons and is treated like some kind of demonic force. That's what's not fair."

Nick listened intently as their voices carried throughout the room. He winced as he heard his words. It was bad enough that she was in this situation. It was even worse that it had nothing to do with her, but by far, the worst of all was hearing her defend him when he wasn't sure he deserved defending at all.

"You're right." She would be foolish to try and convince him otherwise especially in the current situation. "What happened to you wasn't fair and I'm sorry, but Nick didn't do this. He wouldn't. And if you'd just let me talk to him and explain what's happened, I know we could get all of this worked out."

"And how exactly does it work out? Is it worked out when I end up in jail? When my wife and son end up with absolutely nothing? When you and your white knight get to ride off into the sunset and continue to live your charmed life? Because that doesn't work for me! I know you people are used to just writing me off, but it's not gonna happen like that this time. Do you hear me?" He loomed over her, his voice now deepening, the tone turning more menacing. "I'm tired of waiting on other people to decide how things go. I have the power to make things happen and I might as well take advantage of that." He reached into his pocket, his fingertips clasping around the lighter. He watched in satisfaction as her eyes widened in terror.

"What are you gonna do with that?" she whispered.

"You strike me as an intelligent woman. You figure it out."

The two people inside her were constantly at war. The Phyllis that normally fought for dominance was strong and ballsy. No one told her what to think, what to say, or how to act. She was fearless, brazen, and decisive. This wasn't the Phyllis that appeared in the room tonight. This Phyllis was hesitant, insecure, and frightened. She was in survival mode, afraid to say or think anything that might prompt another outburst of irrational anger from him. She was tired of fighting the two dichotomies within her own psyche, tired of feeling powerless, but most of all, she was just tired of being afraid.

"So do it then!" It was either incredibly stupid and ill advised or the only rational move she could make. Either way, it was done now. "If you're so intent on destroying the house, then why are you sitting here torturing me and torturing yourself? Just get it done. But tell me again how this helps anything. Tell me how burning the house down makes your life better. How does it help your wife and son? Because in my mind, all it does is ruin every single good thing you built here. As long as this place exists, you still have the memories and you still have hope of making things right … of making things better. If you just give up, that's all gone and you'll just …"

"Would you just shut up!" Cameron's voice rang out through the house. "You sound just like all those other blowhards that have tried to fill my head with that bullshit about how everything will be okay if I just tell the truth, if I just hang in there, if I just trust them. You're full of it. Just like the rest of them and I'm sick of it. If it means I have to shut you up to make my point …"

"You've made your point."

She felt her entire body grow cold as she heard the familiar voice. "Nick." Her lips formed the word even as no sound came out. She was filled with simultaneous relief and terror. His presence gave her comfort, but she instantly now recognized they were both in imminent danger.

"Well … Well … Well …" Cameron reached down to pick up the gun, now turning to aim it directly at him. "So you weren't happy with just chatting on the phone, huh? You wanted a real face to face meeting?"

"What I want right now is for you to let her go." He tried to say calm even as his heart thundered in his chest. He could see the fear in her eyes even as she tried to put on a brave face. "She has nothing to do with this. You're angry with me and that's fine, but she wasn't involved with any of it. Just let her go."