Let's Play A Love Game (A 1D Fan Fiction)

Chapter Fifteen (Lauren)

We left Hot Shots and I followed Nick for a couple minutes until we pulled into a parking lot full of shady cars in front of a tallish, dark, abandoned-looking building. "What is this?" I inquired, examining the darkness as I cautiously exited my car. "What do you mean? You've never been to a secret club before?" Nick joked lightly, meeting me as I closed my door. "No," I replied hesitantly, giving him a questioning look, "Are you sure this isn't some plot to murder me?" "No, it's a nightclub. It's on the down low. You have to know someone who knows someone who knows someone to get in. Only a couple hundred people even know of it," he explained quickly and precisely as he leaned cooly on my beat up car. "How do you know about it?" I inquired, the uneasy feeling in my stomach growing as I took a subtle step back. "I know someone," he shrugged casually. "A nightclub?" I repeated, "But I don't have anything to wear!" "What you have on now will do." "No... Are there any stores around?" I insisted, stepping toward my door once again. "None that you'd be interested in." "What is there?" "There's a Goodwill down the street." "I'll be right back," I smiled, reaching for the door handle. "You shouldn't go alone. This neighborhood isn't the best," he told me as I slid into my seat. "Are you coming?" I questioned as I started the engine. Nick looked surprised for a moment before hurrying around the car to join me.

Five minutes further down the road, we stopped in front of an extremely rundown, ghetto looking outlet store. The dingy letters "GODWIL" glowed a ghastly blue color near the crumbling roof. An ominous "OPEN" sign flashed out of a cloudy, cracked window. "This place is freaky," I mumbled under my breath as I stepped from the car. "You wanna leave?" Nick probed, reopening the door to my car. "I'm finding a dress," I persisted, stalking up to the door with false confidence. It wasn't until my fingers made contact with the cold metal handle that I hesitated. "Lauren," Nick playfully called from somewhere behind me. "Are you scared?" I joked, allowing my hand to tighten around the handle as his joke preoccupied my mind. "Lauren," he called again, closer this time with a note of urgency. As I turned to see what his issue was, I startled back into the closed door. Nick was now within feet of me with his back turned, staring at an unwelcome visitor. "Open the door and get inside," he ordered in a low voice as the man began yelling. "CATIE?! CATLIN ELISABETH!" My stomach dropped as he called for me angrily. The man, tall but hunched over, peering savagely at me from behind thick glasses with thinning brown hair peppered grey and a beer gut that confessed his pastime, recognized me as easily as I recognized him. I was, in fact, his daughter despite the hair dye, makeup, clothes, contacts, new name, and new life. I finally obeyed Nick's order and slipped inside the store. "Sir, this isn't Catlin. I'm afraid you're mistaken," Nick confronted politely, obviously hoping he'd take his chaos elsewhere. "I know my daughter. You tell Catlin to get her ass out here NOW!" my father growled as I listened from inside the Goodwill. "Sir, I can assure you that you have the wrong person." "Her name is Catlin Elisabeth Alaro and she ran away," my father insisted, limping toward the building, me, and Nick. "Catlin has been missing for years, Sir," Nick stated in a sympathetic tone, his back finally pressed against the door in his last effort to escape. "But she is right there! MOVE!" my father shouted, approaching the door. With every advancing step my father took, Nick was in more danger and so was I. I decided to act. I turned to the cashier, who was watching the scene play out with me. "Ma'am, please help him!" I begged desperately, my confidence waning. The woman didn't hesitate for a moment. She stalked to the door and in an instant, she whipped a gun out of her greasy cashiers' apron, sliding outside next to Nick, "Jack, you best quit harassing my customers." Nick hurried inside the door, joining me in viewing the action with our cell phones handy in case we had to call 911. "He has Catie," Jack accused in his drunken state, pointing to us lingering inside. "Jack, Catie is gone. You need to get off my property," the cashier threatened, refusing to lower her gun. My father swayed around and began wobbling off in the opposite direction.

"Thank you so much!" I expressed, breathing a sigh of relief as the cashier reentered the store. She just aided me in dodging a bullet. How could you even express enough gratitude for that? But I couldn't even act like it was that big of a deal because I didn't want to blow my cover. "No problem, Sweetheart. Jack is always wandering the streets late at night accusing random women of being his daughter." "Where is she?" I inquired casually, curious of how other people viewed my situation but containing the interest. "Honey, she's dead." "Really?" I drawled, sounding just slightly more intrigued than a normal person should be. "That's so sad!" I quickly added to cover myself, "What happened?" "She ran away with some boy. He was bad news. They both ended up starving to death. I mean, that's what the cops say. Never did recover the bodies, poor kids. Police could never bring closure to those poor families," the woman shook her head somberly. "The police just stopped looking?" I questioned, leaning forward subtly. "For a while, they were sure they were alive. They even had leads as to their location. Followed every lead but ended up cold. The last lead they received was a reported sighting of the boy. He looked very upset and the girl wasn't with him. They assumed she'd died since they were always sighted as a pair. Then, all reports vanished. They never got another lead. Both of em dropped off the grid. There's no way either of them could be alive anymore. Not with no identity. They were only kids! They'd have no way to support themselves." "That's horrible!" I sympathized finally, registering her words. If I was 'dead', could that mean Jacob was alive? No. Impossible, just like the woman said. But she did say we were only kids.... "Her parents never stopped hoping though. They were real persistent, especially that father." "That's horrible!" I repeated, at a loss for words. All of those years of abuse and he thinks I'm EVER coming back? HA! I'd rather die. The only way I'd ever come out of hiding would be if Jacob was found alive. And even at that, I would never go back to my family. Not now that I've had my taste of freedom. Now that I'm 19 and have lived without parental supervision or assistance for around four years of my life. I'm stronger than I was. I know who I am and who I want to be. Ever since I've become someone else, I'm more myself than I've ever been. "They don't know why she left?" I inquired politely, seeing an end to the conversation. "No. They said they woke up one day and she just wasn't there. They were heartbroken." That was a lie. "Absolutely awful," I shook my head. Nick had been patiently listening to our conversation thus far but finally butt in, "Do you have any dresses?"