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Chapter 13

Evangeline

I don't know how long i'd been down here now, probably only a few hours but it felt much longer.
It was cold and somehow damp.
I couldn't see anything because of how dark it was.

I wasn't scared of being alone in the dark, I was scared of not being alone.
I've spent most of my time waiting for something to jump out at me.

My wrists ached as the rope continued to burn my skin with every small move I made.
I'd pulled at the rope but it had been tied so tightly, the only way I was getting it off would be with a knife and to my knowledge there was nothing sharp in here.

My mind kept looping back to my mother. I hadn't spoken to her properly in a week and I missed her.
She was grieving and I get hearing me talk probably wasn't what she wanted or needed but i'd honestly do anything right now for her to be here.
She'd be able to get me out of here in no time. She was always thinking a step ahead.

I tried to rack my mind for who this guy and his father was but nothing came, i'd never seen or heard of them before but yet he seems to know a shit ton about me. As if the staring at me from across the coffee shop wasn't creepy enough.

My father kept me out of that part of his life. Of course i'd met people he'd worked with and people who worked for him. I wasn't unaware of what he was, in fact I was overly aware of it. His 'job' choice had restricted me on just about everything in my life.
From school and friends right down to hobbies. I was never allowed to leave anywhere without his or my mothers permission and even then it was hard getting it.
I'd say in a way, i'd spent my whole life sheltered from just about everything and nothing all at once.
My parents didn't have to worry about the normal things like drinking, parties and boys, they had to worry about kidnapping, stalking and attempted murder.
Yes... I know.

As more memories flood back from when I was younger, my older mind now makes sense of what I once couldn't.

Like how I was not having a sleepover with the man and his dog.
I remember once i'd walked off with that guy and he'd taken me away to see the dog, the dog didn't actually exist and I spent the night in what can only be described as a coat cupboard.
The only thing I really took away from that experience was how I felt like Harry Potter for getting to sleep under the stairs.

That was the first time i'd witnessed my father take a life.
Once he'd realised I was fine his face turned from one of relief to anger.
I'd been quickly passed over to Harry who must have only been 15 or 16 at the time.
He'd attempted to cover my eyes but I was able to see through the gaps in his fingers.

For years i'd thought my father was only giving the guy, who supposedly had a dog, a hug but as I got older, I soon realised that wasn't the case whatsoever.
He'd been strangling him.
My father was definitely much more hands on.
I'd never seen him pull a gun out, in his own words he'd rather be up close and personal when he took someone's life.
It meant he'd be the last face they saw.

My father knew how to be cold when he had to be but that side of him never tainted the side I regularly saw.
The one who would bring me home sweets everyday even though it drove my mother insane or the one who'd sneak me out of bed way past my bedtime to watch the stars.
He was my favourite person and i'd also do pretty much anything to have him with me right now.
At least I wouldn't be as bored as I currently was.

Someone pushed against the door quietly. I backed myself as far as possible into the corner as the door finally swung open.

"Evie?"