by Evelyn Glass
I made my way through to Ella’s room, and found her still passed out in bed; I glanced at my phone and saw that it was barely seven in the morning. It was a Saturday, so I didn’t have to worry about getting her to school or anything. In fact, we could just spend the day together here, the three of us, if we wanted. The thought made my heart swell with happiness, even though I knew this was a strange situation to be happy about. I guessed I was just making the most of a bad situation. And I had to admit, as bad situations went, this one seemed to be turning out kind of alright. We were all safe, we were all here—at least for the time being. I wouldn’t mind if none of this changed for a while.
I made my way back through to the bedroom, and flopped down on the bed; Mona was getting dressed, much to my disappointment.
“She’s still asleep,” I murmured, and Mona turned to me and smiled.
“She okay?”
“Perfect.” I nodded, and walked over to her. I wrapped my hands around her waist from behind and planted a kiss on her neck; I knew it wouldn’t exactly be the best idea, but I would have taken her straight back to bed if I could. She nestled against me and let out a small, satisfied noise against my neck.
I didn’t think it needed saying; it hung in the air between the two of us, our bodies speaking it every time we touched. And besides, it was early days yet. With the intensity of the last twenty-four hours, I wanted to make sure that we would survive being together as normal people, as people who weren’t fighting some crazy, unknown force. I was pretty sure we would. But that didn’t mean the words didn’t cross my mind—that I didn’t want to whisper “I love you” into her ear, just so she knew that this wasn’t like the last time. I wasn’t going anywhere.
But she knew. She pulled out of the embrace, and planted a kiss on my cheek. Was it stupid that I felt giddy just being this close to her? I knew I was acting like an idiot, but I was in love—and lust. I felt as though the world had lurched sideways as soon as she had come into it, and I had to admit I liked it. I was so scared of change, but when it came to her, I wanted it.
“I’m starving,” she sighed. “Do you know if they have anything in here for breakfast?”
She made her way through to the kitchen area and I followed her; I went through the cupboards, and a plan began to form. I turned to her with a grin, and nodded towards Ella’s room.
“You want to check if she’s up? Because I’ve got a feeling that she’s going to want to join us for breakfast.”
A few minutes later, I was standing in front of the stove carefully measuring out dollops of pancake batter into a sizzling saucepan. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a way for Ella to feel like this place was a little more normal, a little more fun. Mona and Ella emerged from her bedroom, and Ella’s eyes practically bugged out of her head when she saw what I was cooking.
“Pancakes?” she exclaimed.
I nodded, laughing at her excitement. “Good morning to you to.”
“Hey, don’t blame the girl, you are making pancakes,” Mona pointed out. She eyed my pan hungrily “And they look so good.”
“I’ll try and save a few leftovers for you,” I teased, and Ella jumped down on the sofa next to Mona. There was an old TV sitting in the corner of the room, and Mona flicked it on, finding a few cartoons for Ella to enjoy as I cooked up breakfast.
We ate as a family—for the first time, I could say that and not feel as though I was lying to myself or trying to make up something that wasn’t there. Mona and I held hands over the back of the couch, above Ella’s head, and kept on exchanging little looks. Even though we hadn’t spoken about it, it was as though we both seemed to accept that it wasn’t time to break the news to Ella. Not because I thought she wouldn’t be delighted—quite the contrary, I knew she’d be beyond pleased when she found out that Mona was becoming part of the family—but dumping that on her on top of everything else just didn’t seem fair.
We managed to make something pretty special out of the day, despite everything; I went downstairs to fill out the forms that said this is where we were staying, and the woman at reception was incredibly sweet and understanding about what was going on. She even offered us some kids’ books that some old residents had left behind, and I happily took them.
Mona went out to a store down the road and picked us up some candy and pizza, and we ended up managing a family movie night in front of the television after spending most of the rest of the day with Ella going through her new books. Yeah, it was just some animated movie that Ella had seen a hundred times before, but she seemed to find it comforting and relaxing. So much so that she dozed off with her head in Mona’s lap. We let her lay there for a while, and eventually I scooped her up and tucked her into bed with George, the stuffed dinosaur she’d brought from home. I looked down at her for a moment and smiled; she was safe, but more importantly, she was happy. I made my way back through to the living room, and found Mona on the phone. My heart skipped a beat, but she waved me over calmly.
“So, when? Tomorrow morning?” she asked, glancing at me and offering me a quick smile. I placed a hand on her leg and squeezed lightly, just wanting to let her know that I was here and we were safe. She paused, and I heard a man’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Great, we’ll see you then.” She hung up, turning to me and raising her eyebrows. “So,” she began, taking a deep breath, “that was Elijah.”
“Oh yeah?” I leaned forward with interest.
“He wants to come by tomorrow,” she explained. “He says he…he says he knows where Ian is.”
Brown spots clouded the edges of my vision for a second. I blinked to clear them, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.
“He’s going to stop in and pick Ella up and drop her off at the precinct he’s been working with while he’s down here,” she went on slowly, scanning my face for a reaction. “And then were going to confront Ian. On his own turf.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, clenching my fists. The thought of getting to him, of finally getting to the man who had terrified my daughter and been stalking us for God knows how long…it was almost too good to be true. I couldn’t want to get my hands on him, let him know exactly how I felt about his bullshit-
Mona covered my fist with her hand. Her touch was soothing, soft, and the tension that had momentarily consumed me began to ebb away.
“I know this is hard,” she murmured. “But we only have to wait one more day and then this will all be over. And we can…get on with things.”
She fluttered her lashes up at me in a gesture so clichéd I would have laughed had it not been coming from her. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and before I knew it, we were kissing again, our bodies matched up against each other. And, for the rest of the night, I didn’t give Ian any thought at all.
Chapter Twenty
“I’ll see you soon, okay, baby?” Jazz leaned down and planted a kiss on Ella’s head, then pulled himself up to his full height to make eye contact with the police officer she was leaving with. He didn’t need to say anything; it was clear what he was putting across. A little flash of fear passed across the young man’s face, and he extended his hand towards Ella, who happily took it. All three of us watched as they made their way down the stairs, and as soon as they were out of sight, I turned to Elijah.
“So what have you found?” I asked urgently as he closed the door behind Ella and her companion. They were heading down to the precinct, somewhere that we knew Ella could be safe while we pursued our latest lead.
“Can we talk and drive?” Elijah asked, jerking his head down towards the car he had parked outside. Jazz and I exchanged a glance, and I nodded.
“Anything that gets us there faster.”
A few minutes later, the three of us were sitting in the car; Jazz had insisted on the backseat to keep an eye out for any other potential stalkers who might have been following us. Elijah seemed focused on the drive, and I stared out of the window, wondering if this would be the break
we needed to put this whole thing to bed. Jesus, listen to me—talking like some kind of cop from a cheesy daytime TV show. I didn’t give too much of a shit, though, when I glanced in the rear view mirror at Jazz. I got him when this was done. That was as good a motivation as any.
We pulled to a halt in a part of town I didn’t recognize. I looked around, and found that we were in a suburban cul-de-sac, lined with neat lawns and clean houses. It looked fancy. I turned to Elijah, brow furrowed, not sure what this had to do with Ian.
“You see that house at the end of the street?” Elijah pointed in the direction of a large, sand-colored house sitting about a hundred feet from us. Jazz leaned forward over the front seat and peered out.
“What about it?”
“That’s where Ian’s brother lives.” Elijah turned to us, raising his eyebrows, knowing that he had hit on something huge.
My eyebrows shot up. “Ian has a brother?”
“Addison,” Elijah confirmed. “I couldn’t find much about Ian, but I was able to unseal some files that his brother has with the police—”
“Why, what did he do?” Jazz demanded, the hint of a snarl in his voice. I knew that he would take down this entire family if he had to, and wouldn’t think twice about it.
“He was in and out of juvenile detention when he was growing up.” Elijah shrugged. “Nothing serious. Just kid’s stuff.”
“So how did he end up with a place like that?” The house was gorgeous, with a perfectly manicured lawn—it didn’t exactly look like the kind of place that a guy who’d had multiple brushes with the law would stay.
“His grandfather left it to him and Ian, and he was the one to claim it. Their grandparents basically raised the two of them, and they were really close.”
“So what does he do now?” Jazz asked, flopping back against the seat behind him.
“He runs a halfway house for people like him out of the house,” Elijah replied. “He seems like a pretty good guy, like he’s really turned his life around. That’s why I was hoping he’d help us out with Ian.”
“How do we know we can trust him?” Jazz scowled suspiciously, and Elijah shrugged.
“We don’t,” he admitted. “But this is the best lead we’ve found since we started here.”
Jazz went silent, conceding the point, and the three of us got out of the car and made our way towards the house. Jazz reached for my hand and squeezed it gently; I wondered if he was trying to comfort me, or himself. Elijah glanced at the two of us when he reached the door, and then lifted the heavy knocker and let him slam back against the polished wood.
We heard movement inside the house; for a panicked moment, I convinced myself that it was Ian, that he had somehow lured us here and was about to finish up his crazy plan while he had us separated from Ella. But instead, a man answered the door and gave us the once over.
“Can I help you?” he asked, smiling politely as he waited for us to respond. He was dressed nicely, in a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of slacks. His nose was crooked, as though it had been broken a couple of times.
“Hi,” Elijah stuck his hand out. “I’m Elijah, and I’m here with the police?”
“Is it about one of the boys?” The man asked, fear dancing through his eyes for a second—but it vanished when Elijah shook his head. The man glanced over at me, and for a second, it looked as though he recognized me from somewhere.
“It’s about…uh, it’s about Ian,” he made eye contact with the man, whose face dropped. He stepped aside, and gestured for us to enter.
“Come on,” he sighed. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
The place was quiet—apparently, the people who usually stayed came in batches and they were currently doing a turnover. Addison led us to the front room—a big, airy space with comfortable, mismatched furniture—and made us all coffee. He seemed to be doing his best to avoid the conversation that was going to happen, bustling around and not making eye contact with any of us.
Addison finally sat down, clasping the coffee mug protectively to his chest. “So, what’s been going on with Ian?”
Elijah looked over at us. “I think you guys know better than I do.”
Jazz and I exchanged a glance, and before we knew it, we were recounting every little detail of what had gone down over the last few months. The movement in the attic, the note we found, the footprints on the floor. Addison took it all in with an almost unsettlingly calm look on his face, and paused for a moment when we were finally done talking.
“And this all started a few months ago?” he asked finally.
“That’s right,” Jazz confirmed. “Why?”
“Jesus, I knew I should have done something about it sooner,” Addison muttered to himself. He got to his feet and went upstairs, leaving us exchanging confused glances as we waited for him to return. A few seconds later, he did, clutching a small box that he laid down carefully on the table in front of us. He began to remove the contents as he spoke.
“I knew I recognized you from somewhere.” He looked up at me. “I just couldn’t place it. But…”
In the box, there were handfuls of photographs. Addison laid them out around the table, and I craned my head around to see what was in them. When my eyes focused, my stomach dropped, and I felt as though I was going to throw up.
“Fucking hell,” Elijah murmured. Yeah, that about summed it up.
The photographs—which had clearly been taken from the vantage point of that window in the attic in the house next door—were of Ella and me. They’d clearly been taken across multiple days, and showed the two of us going into and out of the house—unaware, unknowing, talking and laughing about this or that. I gripped the arm of the couch in an attempt to keep myself upright, but it wasn’t working. I fought the urge to scream—I wanted to claw at my skin, desperate to get his gaze off of me. But it was too late. These pictures, he’d taken them, developed them, done God knows what over them—and then passed them on to Addison.
“When did these arrive?” Jazz asked, tone surprisingly measured.
“I don’t know for sure—about six weeks ago?” Addison replied, wrinkling his nose up as he tried to remember. “Ian was always into these art projects, and I just thought it was something like that—”
“How did you know they were from him?” Jazz cut across him. “Was there a note?”
“No, but I know no one but Ian was going to send me stuff like this.” Addison shook his head grimly. “Is this your daughter?”
Jazz nodded, unable to get the words out. I couldn’t blame him.
“Why didn’t you come to the police with this?” Elijah asked, leaning forward. “You must have known this wasn’t okay. Especially with your brother’s history…”
“I know I should have, but it slipped my mind,” Addison responded, his voice laced with apology. “We had a turnaround, and the box got stashed up in my office and I just didn’t think about it till I saw you.”
“So he’s been doing this for a while.” Jazz got to his feet. Addison took a breath as though he was about to speak, and then fell silent. We all looked over at him.
“What is it?” Jazz urged. “Come on, you owe us anything we can get our hands on now. Please.”
“Your daughter,” he began hesitantly. “Ella?”
Jazz nodded, silent, waiting for him to continue.
“She looks just like our little sister,” Addison went on softly, a little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. His face seemed to droop with sadness in spite of it.
“What do you mean?” Elijah leaned forward. “I couldn’t find any records of a sister—”
“She’s dead,” Addison cut him off bluntly. “She died in a fishing accident when she was five. Ian was there with her, and I’m not sure he ever really…”
He drifted off for a moment, leaving the sentence unfinished. I sucked in a long breath, trying to calm the sound of the blood hammering in my ears. All of this was falling into place. He was buildi
ng himself a little family, building it up from nothing. How long had he been planning it? When had he first laid eyes on Ella and seen the spitting image of his sister? And what did I have to do with this?
“So you think that might be why he got so obsessed with Ella?” Jazz pressed.
Addison nodded. “Almost certainly.” He blinked away a couple of tears that had been shining in his eyes. “I guarantee it.”
Jazz sat back down and ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. All four of us sat there, silent, trying to figure out what to do with this new information. And that was the last moment I remembered before it all went completely to shit.
Chapter Twenty-One
There was a crash from upstairs—the unmistakable sound of glass splintering and breaking. I jumped to my feet, already on my way up there, but Mona caught my arm.
