by Trisha Grace
For the rest of lunch, Christine continued flirting with him. Though she would serve as a good distraction, the last thing Dan needed right now was another woman. So, he continued behaving like a courteous gentleman.
When they were leaving the restaurant, Christine suddenly asked, “So, Dan, are you doing anything tonight?”
“I think I’ll be having dinner with them,” Dan said, tilting his head toward Ryan and Joseph.
“If you’re tired of seeing them all the time, I don’t mind accompanying you for dinner.”
He blinked and found himself at a loss for words. “Are you asking me out?”
Christine laughed and nodded. “You mean I’m not obvious enough?”
“No, I’m just not used to…”
“Being asked out? You don’t expect me to believe that.” She smiled, then continued. “So, dinner?”
He tried to come up with an excuse to let her down gently.
“Yes, he’s sick of seeing us, and he’ll pick you up at seven tonight,” Ryan interjected. “Dan, open the door for her before she changes her mind.”
He smiled awkwardly at Christine and opened the door. While Christine strode through the door, he turned around and glared at Ryan.
“It’s all right, you don’t have to—”
“No, he’s right. I am sick of them. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
Christine’s smile grew wider. “All right, give me your phone.” She gave Dan her number and address then returned the phone to him. “See you tonight.”
Dan shifted the flowers to his left hand and knocked on Christine’s door.
“Right on time,” Christine said as she opened the door.
He nodded and took another look at the bright red, strapless dress that fitted her toned body so snugly.
“Like what you see?” Christine asked while she put on her earrings.
“You look great.”
She grinned and took the flowers from Dan’s outstretched hand. “Aw…you shouldn’t have. Come in, take a seat. I’ll be ready in five minutes.” Christine smiled, then disappeared into her room.
Dan moved toward the couch, stepping over the yoga mat that lay opened right beside it. The house was clean and though it wasn’t large, the minimal furniture she had created a sense of spaciousness.
Across from the couch was a plasma TV hanging on the wall, and a plain, uncluttered TV console holding a photo frame and a remote. Instead of a coffee table, a white furry rug took up the space between the rug and TV, opening up more space in the living room.
Even the dining table was small. It was a table meant for four, tucked away in the corner of the room.
He leaned back and took in the view of the living room, grinning as he thought about the huge difference between Christine’s and Evelyn’s apartments. Catching himself in his thoughts, he turned as Christine strutted out of her room.
“You want something to drink? Otherwise, I’m ready to go.”
“I’m good, let’s go then.”
By the time they got out from his car, Dan realized that being with Christine was like being with a female version of Ryan. They laughed and chatted with each other as if they were long-time friends.
He opened the door for her and entered the restaurant. He took a quick scan and was glad it wasn’t the romantic kind of restaurant where tables were placed wide apart, giving couples their space.
Smiling politely to the couple next to them, Dan and Christine took their seats. Immediately, Dan noticed the slight color difference in the wooden beams of the table. The dark chocolate brown color on the beam wasn’t even, revealing a lighter shade of brown in the deeper grains of the wood.
Shoddy workmanship. His lips curled as he heard Evelyn’s voice in his head.
It took certain skills and lots of practice to get such details right; details that Evelyn always paid attention to.
“What’s good here?”
He looked up from the table leg and noticed the menu on the table. He didn’t even realize that a waiter had come by. “I believe steak is their specialty,” he quickly answered.
Christine nodded just as the waiter returned and took their orders. Once the waiter left, she turned to Dan and started asking him about work.
Five minutes into the conversation, Christine suddenly narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Resting her chin in her hand, she asked, “Am I boring you or is there some place else you have to be?”
“What? No, you’re not boring me, and I have nowhere else to go.”
“Who is she?”
He choked on the wine he was drinking. “What?” he said after coughing into his fist to clear his throat.
“Who is she?” Christine repeated.
“No one, no one important.”
“I can see how upset you are just to say that she’s no one.”
“Do you always talk about other women when you’re on a date?”
“Is this a date?” Taking a sip of the wine, she smiled coyly at him. “I have no problem with holding a guy’s interest when I want to, but I also know when things aren’t mine to take.”
Dan smiled wryly as he shook his head.
“Oh, come on. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to people you don’t really know than friends you’ve known for years.” She paused, and continued when Dan grinned at her words. “So, who is she, and why are you here with me instead of her?”
“She’s made it clear that she isn’t interested.”
“But you were and still are.”
“No.” He shook his head again. “It’s over between us.”
“Then you’re lying to yourself.”
“I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. She keeps slamming the door in my face, and I still keep going back.”
“True love.”
Dan laughed and leaned forward on his arms. “True love?”
“Yeah. I believe everyone has their one true love; someone they’re meant to be with.”
“Then why are you here with me?”
“Because I haven’t found mine. But you,” she pointed her finger at him as she leaned forward, “you seem to have found yours.”
“Isn’t true love supposed to conquer all? And I’m sure it’s supposed to have a better ending than mine.”
“Even fairy tales have their evil witches and evil step-mothers. You just need to conquer them.”
“It’s not easy when the princess involved doesn’t want to be saved.”
“I’ve never seen the prince ask for permission.”
“I don’t even know what’s the monster haunting her.”
“What do you love about fairy tales?”
His brows drew closer together. “The happily-ever-after?”
“I love that in every story, the prince doesn’t give up no matter what.” She paused, giving him an encouraging smile. “In reality, we never know what is going to happen. The only way you can get your happily-ever-after is the commitment to never give up no matter what; that’s all the magic and love potion you need.”
He grinned, observing her for a moment.
“What?”
“You don’t look like the sort who believe so wholeheartedly in true love.”
“Why? Because I’m toned and sporty, so unlike the princesses in Disney?”
He laughed. “Maybe.”
“I think every girl, despite what she says or how she looks, yearns for a prince and a happily-ever-after.”
“Well, at the risk of sounding like a brat, true love sucks.”
Christine laughed and raised her glass. “To friendship, then.”
“To friendship.”
The rest of the night, after much persuasion, Dan told Christine everything that had happened with Evelyn. It was much easier to talk to her about Evelyn than it was to the guys or even Kate. Since Christine didn’t know Evelyn, he didn’t have to consider his words before speaking, he didn’t have to worry if he sounded judgmental or if Christine would judge him.
 
; When he was done with his story, he listened to Christine list all the possibilities of what could have happened to Evelyn. After running out of ideas, Christine asked for his thoughts.
For once, Dan speculated aloud.
Everyone in their gang knew Evelyn held a secret about her past. But the secret was a taboo topic and there was somehow an unspoken rule on keeping mum about it.
He hated the secret. He hated pretending that it didn’t exist when it had built such a massive wall between them.
Keeping mum about it only seemed to magnify the situation and the distance between Evelyn and him.
Simply chatting about it with Christine seemed to remove the stress behind it. Being able to speak freely, without worrying that someone might get angry or hurt was exactly what he needed.
At the end of the night, after dropping Christine off, Dan drove back with a genuine smile on his face. He wouldn’t call that a successful date, but he definitely had more fun than sulking at the gym or trying to bury himself with work.
Chapter Seven
Evelyn threw her keys and bag onto the dining table and dragged her feet across the living room. She dropped onto the couch and kicked off her shoes, not giving a hoot about where they landed.
After checking her phone again, she tossed it onto the coffee table and lay down on her couch.
Since paying the five thousand to her blackmailer, Evelyn hadn’t heard from her blackmailer.
It had been a week, and she wanted to believe that the worst was over, that the blackmailer had gotten the money and she would be left alone.
But she was certain that once the money was gone, the calls would return.
She closed her eyes, draping her arm over them while her head throbbed. She should have just stayed home instead of going to the mansion for dinner.
When Dan didn’t turn up for dinner that night, she thought he was still avoiding her. It didn’t take long for her to realize that she wasn’t the one keeping him from the mansion or his friends.
Ryan enthusiastically volunteered the information that Dan was out with his friend, and new yoga instructor for the gym, Christine Skyler.
Evelyn kept her face straight, making sure she didn’t give away anything.
Ryan obviously dropped the information for her ears, trying to goad her into some form of reaction.
She grew up in an environment where the ability to keep a straight face was a vital survival tool. Such a minor event was nothing compared to the things she’d trained herself to endure.
Since Ryan couldn’t get her to react, the topic was dropped when Kate distracted them with the design she’d drawn up for the gym.
A drop of tear rolled down her eye and she brushed it away angrily. There was no reason for her to feel this way. When she made the choice to shut Dan out, she knew this would happen. He would move on and find someone who deserved him.
She forced her eyes to remain shut even as another tear escaped.
Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.
When her eyes opened, she found herself lying on a pillow.
She frowned, her head swirling, and pushed herself off the couch.
No, she wasn’t on her couch.
She was sitting on a small single bed with plain off-white sheets. She looked around and saw two other girls sleeping in the double-decker bed next to her.
No. She squeezed her eyes shut. Wake up, she told herself.
When she opened her eyes, she was still trapped in the last foster home she was in.
Then, she heard the footsteps coming up the wooden stairs. With each step, the floor creaked and her fear doubled. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as the creak grew more prominent.
The monster was getting closer.
She knew what was coming and she didn’t have much time.
She had to run.
The door was always locked from the outside and the window’s grill was nailed down to keep them from opening it.
Still, she had to try.
She tried to push herself off the bed, to get to her feet and search for an escape, but she couldn’t move.
She lay frozen on the bed, her heart pounding so hard that the rapid thumps rang in her ears.
As the creaks got louder, her fingers dug into the sheets.
She turned toward the other two girls. The older girl, Leah, was sitting up on the lower deck. Her tangled chestnut hair and wide eyes could almost be mistaken for hysteria. Though fear was apparent in her eyes, Leah didn’t make a single sound. She only stared at the door while her hands clenched onto the blanket, pulling it up against her chest, as if her life depended on it.
On the upper deck, the youngest girl among them hid under her blanket. Evelyn could hear the soft sobs coming from Amy even as she fought against her own tears.
Evelyn refused to cry, she dearly wanted to, but she gulped down her tears. Showing any sign of weakness now would only make the she-devil happier, and she wasn’t going to let the monster get any satisfaction out of her.
She shot up straight and turned to face the door just as the she-devil burst through it.
She was always the first to go.
The she-devil pointed the gun at her and pressed her back against the bed. The she-devil tried to stuff a piece of rag into her mouth and Evelyn immediately tightened her jaws, flinging her head from side to side, trying to avoid getting gagged.
“You always have to fight me, don’t you?” The she-devil jammed the gun into Evelyn’s stomach.
Once would have been enough.
The sudden pain caused Evelyn to release the tension she held on her jaws.
But the she-devil relished such display of pain. The monster slammed the back of the gun against her stomach while her hands tried to ward off the she-devil’s attack. But Evelyn was too slow, she often was.
Her hands flew to her abdomen as she felt the back of the gun. She curled into a ball, her hands still pressed against her abdomen, while the she-devil laughed at her pathetic position.
Then, the she-devil forced Evelyn’s mouth open with sharpened fingernails and stuffed the rag deep into her mouth, making her gagged.
She coughed and choked.
With another blow to her stomach, the she-devil dragged Evelyn out of bed by her legs, pulling her down the stairs.
Her hands flew up, forming a cage over her head. She ducked her head as she felt the edge of the stairs knocking and scrapping across the vertebrates of her spine.
At the end of the steps, the she-devil let go of Evelyn’s legs and stormed on her stomach before dragging her down into the basement.
Though she was drained, the moment Evelyn was done with the stairs, she would pull out the gag and try to twist her legs from the she-devil’s arms.
But it was useless.
She was too young and too small in stature for her struggles to cause any impact.
The she-devil was accustomed to the fight she put up every night and would only release her legs after shutting the basement door. Once the door shut, the she-devil would point the gun at Evelyn and force her toward the metal cage before kicking her into it.
While she went sprawling into the cage, the she-devil would lock up her cage and return to the bedroom to retrieve the other two girls.
The metal cage, like that for dogs, encased her. The cage was large enough for her to sit up straight, but she would have to bend over if she stood.
She got on her knees, crawled toward the lock, and tried to push it open. When the lock refused to budge, she leaned back and used her legs to kick at the edge of the cage.
The whole cage shook, but the lock remained stubbornly in place.
Soon, the other two girls staggered into the basement at gunpoint. Unlike Evelyn, they weren’t gagged and weren’t shoved into the cage. They went in on their own, huddling into the far end of the cage while the she-devil took her time to lock them up.
Tears poured down Leah’s cheeks, but she was old enough to understand that the she-devil didn�
�t appreciate noises, so she bit down on her lips to keep as quiet as possible.
Amy, on the other hand, cried as any young six year old would. She wailed and begged, repeating between each sob, “Mrs. Moore, please…”
It was too late to scream or wail. They were in a basement that was built as a bomb shelter; no amount of yelling would help them now.
They should have done so when they were being dragged down from their room, but they never did.
“Quiet!” Mrs. Moore shouted.
“Mrs. Moore, please…”
Begging never helped. The she-devil didn’t have any ounce of conscience or sympathy, and begging only irritated her.
The she-devil retrieved her box of torture tools from a concealed compartment in the floor and opened it. Picking up the elongated Taser, a corner her lips curled into a sneer as she moved toward Amy’s cage.
Amy’s wails instantly ceased.
She scampered to the other end of the cage, hugging her legs against herself. She was trapped and surrounded by metal. There was no place for her to hide.
The she-devil circled Amy’s cage, humming the same tune she always did whenever she was enjoying herself, while Amy frantically huddled into the opposite corner of wherever she was. Then, the she-devil jammed the Taser into her cage, aiming straight for Amy and laughing as Amy’s scream got cut off.
Amy fell on her back, unable to move.
Evelyn knew from experience that nothing she did would help Amy. It would only direct attention onto herself; something that she should avoid at all cost. She stared, watching as the she-devil once again stepped toward Amy’s cage.
“Stop it!” Evelyn screamed as her fingers slipped through the small, rectangular grids, clinging onto a side of the cage. “Stop it!”
Amy was too young; too young to be going through any of this.
“Always trying to be the hero. You never learn.” Mrs. Moore said, moving toward her.
Wake up now! Wake up now!
As Mrs. Moore neared her, instinct made Evelyn want to huddle against the opposite side of the cage. Instead, her fingers tightened their grip on the cage and she held her position. She wasn’t going to give that sick woman the satisfaction of seeing her cower.
She stared up defiantly at the she-devil, the woman who was supposed to take care of her, and clenched her jaws when she saw the tip of the Taser being jabbed in her direction.