Jennifer giggled. "I doubt it's that big a deal. But I will. Thank for worrying about me."
Cailyn hung up feeling much more worried than her bubbly friend could possibly know.
Chapter 7
Cailyn dragged her eyes open early on Thanksgiving Day to find her home already saturated by the aroma of fragrant herbs and a roasting turkey. For a moment her mind drifted back to Thanksgivings past and she forgot all the drama of the present. She recalled all the boisterous noisy family gatherings and the delicious foods and she couldn't wait to start the day. On the other hand, the warm comfort of her bed invited her to stay and drift back to sleep. Fun though Thanksgiving was, it also proved to be exhausting.
Nonetheless, she forced herself awake. Quickly she dressed and made her way to the kitchen where her mother hummed cheerily and busied herself about the counters mixing and chopping. Cailyn took a deep breath of the heavenly scents and her mom turned to embrace her.
Outside the sun had barely emerged over the horizon and a thick blanket of snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. "Do you think everybody will make it in?" Cailyn asked, wondering about the bad winter weather.
Nathalie Pure chuckled. "Oh you know they will. They wouldn't miss your father's sweet potato casserole for anything," she imparted. Mention of her dad brought a shadow to Cailyn's face and her mood darkened slightly.
Soon he joined them in the kitchen and the three of them worked together preparing the meal, quiet with their own thoughts.
***
By eleven in the morning, the extended family had begun to arrive. First, Great Uncle Huntsman, her mother's uncle. He was a serious brooding fellow. Though Cailyn didn't know him well, and he generally seemed humorless and even hard to get along with, she'd always heard tales of him lingering quietly in the background of the family, watching and protecting.
Another slew of aunts, uncles, and grandparents trickled in but finally it was time for Cailyn's most anticipated guests to arrive. Her father's brother and his wife, and their whopping total of seven sons. They were the Pure family's claim to fame. Two sets of twins and one set of triplets had been born to the couple over a short period. Everybody joked and teased the couple for their apparent superhuman baby making abilities. The entire family worked together to help support the huge bunch, and the boys were the darlings of every occasion.
The oldest set of twins was seven and was comprised of Jordan, the serious, sometimes grumpy brother; and Marvin, the exceptionally smart, leader of the pack. Next came five year old twins, Jake and Kyle. Jake being the brother who was always bubbly and in a great mood, and Kyle the silly flibbertigibbet who was forgetful and silly. Finally came the triplets, three year olds. Frank who was painfully shy and always peered up at Cailyn with a silly smile and bashful eyes. Caleb who had terrible allergies and sneezed eighty six thousand times a day, poor kid. And Albert who always seemed in the middle of a growth spurt and needed naps constantly.
Cailyn spent the day helping and playing with the boys and remembering how very much she adored her entire family. How very much she just wanted everything to be OK. She watched her small cousins and contemplated how much things would change if her father and mother split up. She couldn't stand the thought of it.
But eventually the day wore down and the family began to trickle out just as they'd arrived until Cailyn was once again left alone with her parents.
In the stillness that followed the lively party, she realized, no matter how much she hated the idea of her family breaking up, the threat was real.
***
Cailyn clung to her dad. Her mother misinterpreted it as a rekindling of their father daughter bond, and was delighted. Her blissful ignorance only served to further depress Cailyn. And in late hours of the night, Mr. Pure would steal into her room to update her about communications from Aliah.
Her father informed her that his office was plagued with hang up phone calls. His inbox was flooded with vulgarity. No more threats or even mentions of Cailyn. Mostly just senseless, profane ramblings. Or sometimes Aliah would forward his own old emails back to him. Emails where he'd promised her the sun and moon. These sorts of messages she'd send over and over, up to one hundred times in a row.
He also reported seeing her outside his office frequently. Mr. Pure told Cailyn that he'd be heading out the front door of his firm and stop dead in his tracks when he spotted Aliah standing across the street. Her black hair whipped around her face in the frigid winter wind. She wore big black sunglasses, despite the grey, sunless days. They covered most of her face, but of course Quinton knew that it was her. He revealed to Cailyn that every time he saw her, she was dressed all in black, which wasn't her usual. And she'd be wearing black leather gloves and smoking long skinny cigarettes.
"I never knew her to smoke in the past," Quinton reported.
Other times he caught her trailing him in her car. As he drove to the bank, the court house, or home, at a variety of hours ranging from early to late evening, her headlights flooded his rear view. He said that it made him nervous when she weaved erratically behind him, and tailgated far too close for safety. He wondered if she was on drugs. She wanted him to know she was there; didn't even attempt to remain hidden. But Mr. Pure confided in Cailyn that he was glad Aliah's efforts were focused on him. Because then he knew she was leaving his daughter alone.
Four weeks later, it all stopped.
No more emails or phone calls. He stopped spotting her. Once, several days passed with no word from Aliah, Cailyn threw her arms around her dad one night.
"See Dad, I told you she'd go away!"
He accepted the first hug she'd offered in what seemed like ages. He embraced her warmly. But he drew a jagged sigh. "We'll see," he said wearily
She backed away and smiled up into his face. "Aw, come on, Dad. Cheer up. It's over. We're a family again. Let's just start new." Her eyes shone with the light of a loving daughter, eager to forgive the father she adored.
He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and stooped slightly bringing them nose to nose. "Listen to me," he said. "Do not let your guard down."
"Dad-"
"Cailyn," he stood back again, closed his eyes and shook his head. "I mean it. Our arrangement stands until I'm sure she's gone. You are not to be alone."
The fearful glint in his eye sent a shiver down her spine. "OK, Daddy," she agreed quietly.
Chapter 8
Christmas break steadfastly approached. On Tuesday morning, her classmates were abuzz with numerous sources of excitement. For one, everyone was excited about the prospect of two weeks off school. Except Cailyn, of course. She had nothing much to look forward to except for endless time spent under her dad's watchful eye. She knew she could invite friends over if she cared to. But after the chilling incident concerning Jennifer Tide's Likebook profile, she still felt uncomfortable having friends come too close to her father's secret. Many of her friends were still slightly distant with her anyway, as a result of the foul mood she'd succumbed to for several weeks after discovering her father's secret.
The other excitement was the gossip about the shocking arrest of Zoe Locke. Most people didn't even know exactly who Zoe was. She'd always been so quiet; she'd simply blended into the background. Once news of her arrest had reached the Faraway High grapevine, Cailyn realized she didn't know of a single person that had regularly socialized with Zoe. She had no idea where Zoe even lived. She didn't recall ever seeing Zoe's parents at any school function, or if she had any siblings. In fact, it occurred to her she didn't even remember Zoe participating in any school event ever in their long educational career together.
Word was that Zoe'd been caught red handed burglarizing the home of the Bar family. Cailyn found the whole thing as sad as it was shocking. She suddenly wished she'd been nicer to the girl; tried harder to include her or get to know her. She suspected this whole thing was a cry for attention from a lonely girl.
Benjamin Bar, as always, had nothing to say abo
ut the matter. But the rumor mill suggested she'd been injured while escaping and was presently in the hospital. She would be arraigned the following day and everybody was saying she'd end up in juvenile detention. Cailyn was just as surprised as everyone else. Zoe Locke was the last person anyone would expect to be a criminal.
Just went to show how one never could tell what goes on behind closed doors.
And finally, the other thing that had everybody so amped up was the field trip. She and her classmates prepared to leave and be bussed to the Faraway Museum of Natural History and Nature Preserve. The trip was a part of the long series of study in their science classes leading up to the big science fair that would occur in the spring. They were to learn about nature, dinosaurs, biology, and the earth that day. In truth though, no one cared particularly about the museum or point of the trip. They were all simply happy to have a half day out of school. They were only a few days out until winter break began, and everyone had lost steam on their studies. Cailyn in particular was ecstatic to get a change of scenery.
Mr. Pure had almost refused to let her go on the field trip. If he'd declined, she would've been forced to spend the day at his office. So she'd begged and pleaded for the permission slip. She swore she'd stay with her group and be in absolutely no danger. She was so sick of being a prisoner, as though she were being punished for his crimes. She accused him of being paranoid. Finally, he'd relented, repeating firmly that she was to stay with the group.
Cailyn sat excitedly pressed against a cold window pane, staring out at the snow covered roadways as the school bus bumped along toward the museum. A small smile played on her lips and she existed in her own private world inside her mind. The noise and banter of her classmates behind her all disappeared. She forgot all about her father and Aliah Joiner. She desperately needed a break from everything. She just needed a little time to herself, to clear her head.
She broke her promise to her father, almost as soon as they arrived at the preserve.
Everyone filed off the bus, through the fluffy blanket of snow, and into the gigantic museum. Standing bundled in groups in the atrium under a sky light thirty feet above, and surrounded by signage and displays, they listened to their teacher. Cailyn found it hard to concentrate as she peered around, wide eyed, at a huge dinosaur statue that loomed two stories high in one corner of the atrium. In another corner was a big reconstruction of Mt. Rushmore. And lining the silver papered walls were giant framed posters depicting every possible manifestation of weather; from rainbows to monsoons.
The students were told they had three hours to explore independently. Then they needed to convene in the cafeteria for lunch. Cailyn didn't have to think twice about what she would do. She made a beeline for the rear exit to explore the grounds and walk the trails in the woods. She adored snow. And she craved the chance finally to get fresh air, be alone, and do as she pleased.
Perhaps if she'd been less excited, less eager to break her father's rules, or more observant… Maybe she would've noticed the beautiful dark haired woman slip casually in the front door and begin following her discreetly. But, Cailyn didn’t notice the woman with the black hair, black sunglasses, and rosy cheeks. She didn't notice her quick steps, or the slight smile playing on her full lips. And neither did anyone else.
Cailyn wandered out into a huge winter garden of pines and snow covered topiaries. She giggled melodiously at a gathering of bushes sculpted to look like Disney Princesses, thriving despite the piles of fluffy snow atop their foliage heads. She followed a mosaic tiled foot path that had been shoveled clear of snow. She noted a few black birds that'd not gone south, flitting about the treetops. She saw white tailed deer peeking from the mouth of the forest. She grinned at rabbits, a fox, and several cats tip toing through the snow. She saw so much life. But missed the most important thing.
The woman in the long black dress and hooded cloak, still following, not far behind.
So, Cailyn wandered on and on. She roamed farther and farther from the museum and any other people, not suspecting at all that her care free jaunt was sealing her unfortunate fate.
After quite some time, Cailyn found herself at the opening to the woods. Faraway forest had always somewhat frightened her. She peered cautiously into the shadows straining to see, and listening to all the whooshes and groans emanating from the darkness within.
She caught a chill and hugged herself tightly. Her heart began to pound. She giggled and mentally chided herself for being scared of the forest that had surrounded her town every day of her life.
Or maybe somewhere inside her, the sick feeling of fear was an awakening knowledge. But if that was the case, she realized too late.
There was but a tiny pinch as the hypodermic needle plunged into her neck. Cailyn Pure collapsed heavily into the brutally frigid snow.
***
Her eyes dragged heavily open and the first thing she was aware of was apples.
She lay sprawled on a massive wooden table in a kitchen decorated with apples. Yellowed peeling apple wallpaper. Paper thin apple café curtains over the small window. Ceramic canisters on the messy countertops decorated with apples and small handles on the lids that were… Apples.
Her heavy head thudded and spun. Nothing made sense and the only thought she could seem to grab onto was all those apples. Both quaint and tacky. Underneath a layer of dirt and chaos. And there was a pungent smell…
Like rotten apples.
She had no idea where she was. And then seemingly from nowhere, a petite woman with neatly trimmed shining black hair came running across the room. She shrieked, and a rusty butcher knife flailed over her head.
Cailyn didn't even think. She couldn't; the whole thing did not compute. Did not sink through the mirk and the mire of her cloudy mind. She just lifted one booted foot off the table, heavily. Her sluggish movement transpired at exactly the appropriate moment for the dark haired, knife wielding, lunatic woman's face to connect with Cailyn's boot. With a sickening crunch, the woman bounced brutally backwards and fell straight onto the floor. There was another unfortunate crunch when the woman's head slammed into the floor, and crimson rivulets of blood spurted three feet into the chilly putrid air. Though she was mentally confused, sounds came to Cailyn in an odd heightened state of awareness.
So she heard each droplet of blood as they splattered against her, and landed around the kitchen.
Cailyn hauled herself heavily off the table. She found her legs heavy and numb. She had to force herself to walk, and her steps were clumsy and unsteady. She stared down at the woman who moaned in unconsciousness. Her previously pretty face was a mask of blood and brokenness. Cailyn knew she should understand what was going on. But she still couldn't quiet grasp it. She staggered out the back door and into the grey day, finding herself outside a small house in the forest. Cailyn wandered into the trees.
Each step she took grew slower and slower. She didn't know where she was going. Her eyes were incredibly heavy again. The blackness tried to consume her.
And then, out of nowhere, Benjamin Bar stepped out from behind a tree.
"B… Be… Benjamin," Cailyn mumbled, speeding up ever so slightly to get to him. "Help me."
He gave her a strange dark look. Then his face broke into a smile. "Cailyn, are you OK?" he asked, rushing to meet her.
Had she been thinking clearly, she'd have realized the sullen boy's delighted smile was highly inappropriate in the face of her obvious distress. And that his presence there in the forest was not only oddly coincidental, but actually alarming. But none of that occurred to her as she stumbled haphazardly reaching for him.
"H… Help me please," she moaned, slurring badly.
"I live close by, Cailyn Pure. Let's go to my house, I'll get you help there."
He opened his arms just as she collapsed into them, dead to the world.
***
"Wakey wakey, princess."
Everything was confusing again. Yet not quite so mind boggling as the last time she'd come
to.
"Oh, beautiful girl… Wake up…" It was a familiar voice, but it spoke in an unfamiliar manner. Masculine, but at the same time sing songish. Childish.
The first thing her eyes focused on was Benjamin Bar, which relieved her. But then she noticed she was seeing him from behind a series of rusty iron bars.
She sprung awake and sat up. Suddenly she became aware that she was inside a tiny cell. It smelled of urine and something else that curdled her stomach. It had a cold, muddy floor. On the other side of the bars, Benjamin… On the other side of Benjamin was a chamber of horrors that certainly had to be a nightmare of grandiose proportions.
Cailyn scurried back into a corner, as far as she could get from Benjamin with that odd look on his grinning face.
He gave one excited clap then clasped his hands. "Ah lovely, you've wakened," he gushed. "I followed you when that woman dragged you into the trees. Obviously she had ill intent." Benjamin tittered maniacally. "Regrettably for you, Cailyn, I assure you my intent is much much worse."
Cailyn began to scream.
Part III
Desperately Seeking Rescue
Chapter 9
It boggled the mind of Ella Cinder to think of how folks considered her foster mother, Thelma Dark, to be some sort of hero. Not only was Thelma a horrible, money grubbing, shrew, her twin biological daughters, Brittany and Lexi were ugly psychopaths.
And that pretty much summed up Ella's life.
It was unclear to Ella exactly how long Thelma Dark had been taking in foster children. By sneaking glances at the Dark family photo albums, Ella had determined that Mr. Dark had stopped appearing in the pictures when the twins were around ten. She suspected he may be dead. Or maybe he'd known his wife and daughters were terrible people, and he'd just run away. Or maybe they hadn't been terrible until he ran away. Whatever the case, she suspected they'd started "taking in strays," as they termed it, after he was no longer around.
No Happily Ever After (The Fairytale Diaries #1) Page 4