House of Steel (29 page)

Evie looked behind her at Mark and James
still slumped together on the ground. It wouldn’t be long before
Ethan would be back to check on them and to find her. Her eyes
turned back to one of the small wooden crates filled with bottles.
The handle of the crate was broken, dangling by a few splinters.
She cracked the handle off, placing the wood between her teeth as
she clenched down. She peeled back the white gauze, saturated with
red, to reveal her wound. Her outer skin was shredded, drowning in
blood. With the bottle still open, she trickled the alcohol onto
her left arm. The stinging stabbed her arm like short knife jabs.
She bit down, letting out a low moan before she poured more,
letting the excess liquid drip down her arm and onto the floor. A
pink pool gathered on the linoleum in front of her boot before she
wrapped the stained gauze back on her arm.

Exhaling, she brought the bottle back up to
her lips, swigging another shot of fire down her throat. She
slumped forward as her stomach attempted to reject the liquid, but
her throat stopped it, pushing it back down into her stomach where
it settled. A groan rumbled behind her from the ground as she slid
the bottle back onto the shelf. Evie crept around them, giving them
one last glance, before turning off the light to leave them in
blackness. Mark and James would be fine. Her father needed them
alive. He couldn’t make them disappear, either.

She pulled the door open, eyeing the hall to
her left, toward the empty bar. She slid out into the hall where
the pictures of her father decorated the wall ahead of her. His
steel eyes stared back at her, watching her as she moved closer to
his face. She reached up, her claws ready to shred his existence in
the picture, before she lowered her hand. Her eye had caught
movement down the hall. She registered the blurry outline of a man
walking toward her before she turned and moved back to the
door.

“Hey!” the voice called behind her as she
sprinted the last five feet to the door and shouldered it open,
sending the bell into a clanging frenzy. Her boots hit the pavement
as the cold air reenergized her body, propelling it forward into
the alley. She took a left between two smaller buildings, weaving
her way into the backyards of the old Victorian houses lining the
residential streets. Delaney’s house was only a few blocks away,
and she wouldn’t be there – at least not anytime soon.

Evie cut through the backyards in the dark
night, coming to Drew Street where Delaney’s bungalow stood silent.
She retrieved the key from beneath the tree stump and slid it into
the back door, popping it open to the warmth of the house. Her
boots squeaked against the wood floor as she crept into the
darkness. White, chalky coals smoldered in the fireplace and the
small hiss of smoke filtered into the chimney. The jacket was gone.
So was Holston’s barn. Her lips turned up into a smile before she
stumbled down to the bedroom.

She reached her hand up, turning on the lamp
on the desk before opening the closet to retrieve a large bag. She
slung the bag onto the bed, throwing clothes in it as she scanned
the rest of the room. Her eyes fell back to the desk where
Delaney’s laptop should have been. Delaney hadn’t unpacked before
James had shown up at her door. Bad timing. She smirked as she
scavenged the medicine cabinet to gather supplies. Bandages and
rubbing alcohol; it wouldn’t be enough. She needed help.

Evie slid down the cabinet onto the hard
tiles. She had no one. Elizabeth was long gone. Now Joe was gone.
Joe’s body was left to her father who would dispose of him
discreetly. The bodies seemed to just disappear. Then there was
Mark. Mark could have been an ally. She had seen something in him,
something that had drawn her to him. When he had made a pass at her
after work one day, she had almost relented and given in to her
desires, however, she hadn’t known if she could trust him. Now he
was passed out on the floor of her father’s pub.

Ethan. She closed her eyes, envisioning
Ethan tying her up. She had trusted him for the last twenty years,
and he had betrayed her. They had grown close for a short period in
their childhood. Her father had taken Ethan in until a foster
family could care for him after Ethan’s father had abandoned him.
He made her who she was. A fighter. But why go through the trouble
if he was going to betray her anyway? There was no one left.

She moved to her knees, the alcohol seeping
into her bloodstream as the room spun around her. Her throat gagged
and emptied onto the floor in front of her just as she crumpled to
the floor, letting her cheek rest against the cold surface. Her
head clouded over, filling with a dizzying haze while the wall in
front of her blurred. She succumbed to the warmth creeping over her
body as she lied still on the floor, her body craving the
darkness.

***

Evie felt the weight of her body leave her as
she was lifted into the air. It was as though she was floating,
traveling through the air in complete stillness. She heard Ethan’s
voice whisper in her ear as she hovered over the ground, her legs
dangling into nothingness. A quiet bang stirred her as her body
turned. Another bang, this one louder. She felt her body lower and
come back up. Another bang. Her eyes shot open to see the kitchen
cabinet door shutting. It was followed by a soft glow of light and
cool air that brushed against her face. She was staring at the
contents of an open refrigerator.

“What the hell?” her voice rasped as she
suddenly felt the hard arms wrapped around her body.

“V,” Ethan whispered, looking down into her
eyes.

“Let go of me!” Her body fought to drive an
elbow into his chest as she wriggled in his grip.

“Stop, V,” his voice ordered. He tightened
his grip.

“Leave me alone!” Her legs kicked in the
air, trying to loosen his arms.

“GODDAMMIT! STOP, V!” he shouted in her ear.
She felt her body squeeze tight against his, her bones aching as he
pulled her in. She relented, letting her legs dangle like a rag
doll.

“Thank you,” he said, shutting the
refrigerator door with a kick. Evie took in her surroundings. They
were in Delaney’s kitchen. The neon lights of the microwave read
7:15.

“Ethan, let me down,” she ordered.

“I can’t.”

“Let me down!” She elbowed again, feeling
her elbow bounce off his chest as she panted. Her head began to
swim again. She took a deep breath and let her body relax in his
arms.

“V, I’m here to help you.” His voice
softened as he looked into her face.

“Just like you helped me at the barn by
tying me up?”

“I saved your life.”

“Not exactly, we were about to get out,” she
rebuked. The smell of the smoke burned in her throat as she flashed
to Delaney scooping out the snow in front of the door.

“You wouldn’t have gotten out if it wasn’t
for Delaney and me.” He paused. “After she was out, she went back
in to get you.” His deep brown eyes glistened in the dim light.

“I can’t trust you. You tied me up to
deliver me like a package,” she spat back. Her body tensed, rigid
in his arms. The leather of his jacket rubbed against her body.
“Theron?”

“He’s alive, at the hospital. I know I made
a mistake,” he said, shaking his head.

“And Delaney? Where is she?”

“She’s with him. At the shop.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“He won’t hurt her. I don’t know what it is
about her – ”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Your dad can be - ”

“Persuasive?”

“Yes.”

“And now?” Her eyes rose, penetrating
his.

“Evie, I’m here to help you. I’ve known you
forever and know that you won’t get help, you’ll run instead. I
couldn’t let him get you or have you disappear without me not
knowing what happened to you.” Ethan’s voice cracked as he placed
her in the chair at the kitchen table.

“I went to your apartment, but it was being
watched. A car parked one street over. I found this address in that
asshole’s pocket - her friend or whatever he is - after he passed
out.” He held a small piece of paper with Delaney’s address
scribbled on it. “If I hadn’t come, V, no one would have found you.
You would have died,” he started before he added, “He won’t know
that I came back for you. Not until tomorrow. We need to get you to
a hospital, and we can’t go here. We have to drive a bit.
Otherwise, he’ll find us; like he finds everyone else.”

“I can’t trust you,” she started as she
watched him pull the bag from the floor she had started packing on
Delaney’s bed. He tossed it on the table, filling it with a
half-eaten box of crackers and two bottles of water before he began
to zip it shut.

“Wait, her laptop.” She shuffled her feet
underneath her and steadied her arm against the table.

“Don’t get up. Tell me where it is. We need
to go.” He rushed to her, coaxing her body back into the chair.

“It’s got to be in a bag somewhere. Check
her room again,” she said. Ethan fled the room, disappearing down
the hall toward the dim haze of light. “Behind the door, check
behind the door,” she yelled, her voice echoing in her own ears.
She placed her head down on the table as her body began to
shake.

“Got it.” Ethan flooded into the kitchen,
holding the laptop above his head, to see Evie’s body shaking in
the chair. “Evie?” He skidded forward, kneeling before her in the
chair. Her body collapsed into his arms, becoming limp. He threw
the laptop into the bag before he zipped it shut and slung it over
his shoulder. He lifted Evie into his arms and out into the winter
night to the gray sedan parked in the driveway, waiting.

35

DAY 5: Monday, December 22 - 9:00 am.

The sunlight streaked through the half-closed
curtains, the bright light reflecting into her eyes. Delaney
groaned, rolling onto the other side of her body away from the sun.
She lifted her hand to her head, feeling the bandage covering the
tender spot. A moan escaped from her lips before she shot up, her
mind drawing his bright blue eyes and laughing face.
Gunnar.
He was the one who had hit her. Almost killed her.

She shivered as she pulled the blanket
closer to her body, looking down to see stains of pink and red near
her hands. The watercolor from the painted portrait of the mask.
Her fingers released the softness, letting the blanket fall back to
the bed. She scanned the familiar room. The walls a stark white.
The desk in complete order. Everything in its place. The lamp. The
pictures. The pencil holder. No laptop. In its place sat a small,
mahogany box. Her mother’s ring. Her hand fluttered to her chest,
feeling the metal against her fingers. She was in her own bed. In
her own room. In her own house. Except she was not wearing her own
clothes. She glanced down to see the letters LU covering her chest
and leg. The t-shirt and sweatpants were new.

Delaney fell back onto the pillow, her neck
feeling strained with the movement. Her whole body ached. It craved
the warmth and comfort of the bed at the same time that her lungs
and throat burned with dryness. Her head throbbed, the pain searing
from front to back. Her feet felt heavy as if they were wrapped in
thick cloth.
How did I get here?
Her mind jogged through the
night. The jacket. The pub. The barn. The fire. The shop.
After
the shop, where did he bring me?

She exhaled, turning to her bedside table
where a small plastic container with a prescription label and glass
of water sat, waiting for her. Her arm slid from the warmth to
secure the bottle.
Oxycodone. Painkillers.
She popped open
the top to reveal five white pills settled on the bottom. She
flipped it over, dumping all five pills into her hand, when a
woman’s voice rang in her head.
“Only one at a time. To take the
edge off, honey.”
Her voice had been smooth and clear as she
had leaned closer to her, her breath smelling of pink bubble gum. A
flash of her blond hair surrounding her round face above her green
shirt jogged her memory. She had been lying in a hospital bed while
the woman dressed all in green walked around her bed. It was a
nurse, but she didn’t remember coming back to her house.
How did
I get here? Was Theron at that hospital?
Her eyes strained,
moving back down to look at her outstretched hand holding the
pills, before she poured three pills back into the container.
Is
Holston still here?

A soft knock rapped on the door, causing her
to jump. Her heart raced as she scanned the room, looking for
something, anything, to fight with. There was nothing. Besides, she
could barely move. She relented, letting her body sink deeper into
the bed. The door cracked open a few inches to expose a small mop
of sandy brown hair.

James. Unsuspecting James.
It opened
further as he struggled to poke his head through the door. His
brown eyes, bloodshot, locked on hers. Her body relaxed, comforted
by his presence.

“Delaney?” he whispered into the
bedroom.

“I’m up,” her voice rasped before she
cleared it. She reached over, taking a gulp of the water to soothe
the dryness in her throat. She felt the pills slide down her throat
in two small lumps.

“Delaney.” He moved into the bedroom, his
steps attempting to be light, but he staggered toward the bed
anyway. “What the hell happened last night? Your head?”

She reached up to feel the bandage again as
if she had forgotten about it. He slid onto the edge of the bed,
near her covered feet. She tried to slide them back, but they
barely moved, wound so tight with layers of cloth. “I must have hit
it pretty hard,” she said as she looked back at the container of
pills. She would have done anything to avoid his eyes while she
lied. “Who wears high heels in the dead of winter with ice on the
ground? I must have slipped in the alley. I think Evie found me,
but it’s just… all a blur,” she finished, wishing her words were
true.