“Good,” Dorian said from the driver’s seat, joining the conversation for the first time since they left the hotel.
“I don’t like you,” Victoria said with a scowl.
“I don’t care,” he shot back, not taking his eyes off the road. “How did the two of you meet? Tell me everything you can.”
Liz wanted to tell Dorian to butt out of it. She wanted to demand answers as to how he could have possibly known where to find Tori, but she needed time alone with him first. Since she also wanted to know how Tori had hooked up with Mr. Warwick, she swallowed back her protests for now.
“He discovered me at the gas station, of all places,” Tori declared proudly. “Said I had the exact look Vogue needed these days and that he’d help me put my portfolio together.”
“And you believed him?” Liz asked, aghast.
“It’s not like he asked for any money. And I told him I’d meet him after lunch because I had an English test second hour. Can you at least focus on the positive?”
The positive? That Tori had made one good decision and many bad ones? Liz had made some pretty dumb mistakes during her own teenage years, but nothing even came close to comparing to this. Was Tori really so clueless to the dangers of what she had done, or was she purposely holding back? Liz decided to ask her forthright. “And he didn’t try to touch you, or…?”
“Eww, no.”
Well, that was one concern abated, but there were still many left to address.
They arrived back at the house, and Tori slinked out of the truck.
“You’re grounded!” Liz shouted after her through the open window. “Again,” she added, realizing she’d already grounded the girls for their party on Monday night. “You are super, extra, mega deluxe grounded!”
“That was bad,” Dorian said, studying his hands as they clenched and unclenched the steering wheel.
“I was so scared,” Liz admitted, choking on the words as they came out.
“Me too.” He reached for her hand.
But that was when she remembered everything that had come before safely delivering Tori home and ripped it away. “You! You knew exactly where to find her. You’re responsible for this!”
“No. I never wanted this to happen.” Dorian’s hand shook as he tried to reach for hers again, but she refused to show him any kindness until she had some answers.
She looked up into his face, which had grown sickly white. “This was never about Vanessa, was it?”
And it grew whiter still as he answered, “No.”
It was easier to fight with him when he appeared strong and healthy, but she felt so much anger toward him that his obvious remorse did little to dampen it. “Why is everything that comes out of your mouth a lie?” she demanded.
“Liz, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to keep you safe. You shouldn’t have come into the room. I—”
“So this is all my fault now?”
He took a deep, steadying breath, and some color returned to his cheeks. “No, will you just listen to me?”
“Why? So you can tell me more lies?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, Liz.” He reached for her hand again, and this time, she let him take it. If the gesture comforted him enough to help get the answers out, then she would tolerate it for now.
“Then tell me the truth for once,” she begged. “What is going on?”
His face fell, and he squeezed her hand. “I wish… I wish I could tell you.”
“You can’t tell me? Even now?”
He nodded then shook his head in rapid succession as if warring with himself over how to answer. “It’s not my place.”
“Really? Is that really the reason?” If he was conflicted, then it was only a matter of finding the correct words to shift the scales in her favor. She tried to count to ten under her breath, but the next thing out of Dorian’s mouth brought all her rage bubbling back to the surface again.
“And I signed a Non-Disclosure Agreement.”
“Who the heck cares about some stupid NDA? Are you not understanding that my sister could have been raped or abducted?” She narrowed her eyes at him, squeezed his hand impossibly hard, forced him to recognize the seriousness of the situation. Her desperation.
“He wouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head adamantly. This time he was sure of his answer, but none of it told her why. Why had this man targeted her family? Why was Dorian a part of it?
“Who is this man? How do you know him?”
Dorian sighed, seeming more frustrated with himself than with Liz. “Charles Warwick, and we met only recently, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that the guy’s bad news.”
“And what does he want with my sister?”
“Nothing. He’s just using her to…” Dorian’s words broke away, and he shifted his gaze to the seat between them.
“To what?” She willed him to look at her, but he wouldn’t. Perhaps he couldn’t in that moment.
“Look, I’ve said too much already.”
“You haven’t said anything at all!”
“Please keep an eye on your sisters,” he mumbled, still unwilling to look at her. “Watch your back. Be careful.”
“So we’re all in danger, and that’s the best you’ve got?”
He let go of her hand at last, looking genuinely grieved as he said, “It’s all I can give you for now.”
“Of course. Of course it is.”
“Liz, you don’t understand. I promise I’ll—”
“No, no more of you or your promises.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and hovered over the door handle. It was clear she’d be getting no more answers tonight. She needed time to think of a different strategy, to find some way to ensure her family would be safe. With time, would Dorian come around to helping them?
As she looked back at him one last time, she only felt doubt, distance. This was a weak man, one who was afraid of Warwick. If he couldn’t fight for himself, how could he possibly fight for her? No, he’d already done enough as far as she was concerned.
“Goodbye, Dorian,” she said as she walked away.
The weekend was not off to a great start, and Liz had a feeling it would only get worse after forty-eight more hours confined in close quarters with her angry stepsisters.
She called the teenaged coworker who’d tricked her into the set up for Monday’s party and demanded she cover her Saturday shift at the store. At least with high schoolers you could always threaten to tell their parents as a way of getting them in line.
This particular tactic, however, didn’t work on Victoria.
“I can’t wait until your mother hears all about the week we’ve had,” Liz said when Tori had refused to do her assigned chores for the week.
“And I can’t wait to tell her how you ruined my chances at a modeling career,” the girl shot back.
Valeria either felt sorry for Liz or afraid of Tori, because she joined Liz on Saturday to watch a cheesy romantic comedy on Netflix.
“Classic,” Val said around a mouth full of popcorn as the hunky hero declared his undying love to the heroine. When the credits rolled, she turned to Liz with a far-off look in her eyes. “Is that what it’s really like?”
“What?” Liz asked as she tried to study the credits reel to find the name of the actress she couldn’t quite place.
“You know,” the girl said shyly, a tint of blush rising to her cheeks. “Falling in love.”
Liz laughed. “I’ll tell you when I know.”
“But what about your boyfriend? The one that helped find Tori yesterday?” Val watched Liz as if waiting for some fount of wisdom. When it came to this matter, though, Liz’s fountain wasn’t just dry—it had never been filled.
Still, she couldn’t let this certain misconception stand. “Not my boyfriend. For that matter, not even my friend.”
Val shrugged. “He’s cute, though.”
Liz had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying, “Yeah, if you like the creepy, lying stalker
type.” Because the truth was, she had noticed Dorian’s good looks—and somehow, that only made her like him less.
Val reached for another handful of popcorn. “Do you think that guy wants to make Victoria a model?”
Liz bit her tongue again. As much as she worried they hadn’t seen the last of Mr. Warwick, she didn’t need to confide these worries in a fifteen year old. “I guess we’ll see on that one,” she answered noncommittally.
The doorbell rang, and Liz glanced over at the clock. Just a bit after eight. Not especially late for a Saturday night, but still…
“I’ll get it!” Val volunteered, skipping toward the door. And then a moment later shouted, “It’s some guy here to see you!”
Dorian.
He just needed to leave her alone already. She stomped to the foyer ready to give him a piece of her mind—no more biting her tongue that night.
But the man who waited for her on the stoop wasn’t the one she’d expected to find. Dorian would have been a welcome guest compared to…
“Mr. Warwick,” Liz said coldly. “Could you give us a moment, Val?”
Valeria left after some hesitation, but Liz had a feeling she’d stayed close to listen in from a nearby room.
Liz stepped out onto the porch and shut the front door behind her. Immediately, the cold night air gave rise to goose flesh on her arms.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the man.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at her with eyes so wet, she expected tears to fall at any moment. The broken man before her today was very changed from the one she’d met just yesterday. “Liz?”
“Yes. What do you want?” She folded her arms over her chest, not liking the way he was looking her up and down. His eyes didn’t linger on her body, but she still felt vulnerable under his gaze.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. It was the only way I could think of to…” His voice fell away and the tears rushed down his face, getting lost within his beard.
Tears or no, she refused to feel sorry for this man. He’d already proven his character, as far as she was concerned, and the jury had not decided in his favor. “I don’t care what your excuse is. Stay away from my sister.”
“Stepsister,” he corrected with a sad smile.
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t know what your game is here, but you shouldn’t be preying on young girls. If I see you anywhere near her again, I’ll call the cops.”
He shook his head, a smile edging to the corners of his mouth. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Is that a threat?” She bristled from his sudden change in demeanor.
“No, it’s just…” His smile grew even wider. “It’s not me they’d arrest.”
“You’re not making any sense.” She took a step back, and her heel caught the edge of the door frame.
Warwick closed the gap between them with one large step forward. “Don’t you remember me?”
“I’ve never seen you a day in my life.” He was too close. She was too vulnerable in this position. She needed him to leave. Now.
“No, of course you haven’t, Liz.” He spat her name out like it was poison. His sudden shift in emotions startled her. She felt far more afraid standing here with Warwick than she ever had with Dorian.
“You need to go now, please.” She tried to sound strong, but there was no mistaking the quaver in her voice.
He didn’t back down. Instead, he placed his hand on the edge of the house, mere inches away from her face. “Let me come in to talk. Let me explain.”
“I told you to leave.” She hoped the words came out braver than she felt.
When Warwick still didn’t turn to leave, she decided to be the one to do the leaving. Reaching behind her for the doorknob, she attempted to slip back inside the house.
But his strong hand grabbed the door before she could shut it behind her. “You need to talk to me. I came all this way.”
“I don’t need to do anything except call the police. Get out. Now.”
But he pried the door open and followed her into the house.
Liz searched frantically for Valeria, but she was nowhere to be found. That left her alone with this strange man that refused to take no for an answer. If she ran upstairs, he would follow her and possibly threaten her sisters.
But if she stayed here…
She whispered a prayer: “Please, God. Help me.”
Then hurled herself at the intruder with all her might.
“Stop struggling,” Warwick grunted, attempting in vain to block Liz’s flurry of punches. He caught her by the arm before her fist could connect with his jaw, then whipped her around into a prisoner’s hold. “I just want to talk.”
“No!” she screamed, desperately trying to break free.
“Let her go!” Victoria cried as she and her sister charged down the stairs to Liz’s rescue. And then they were upon the intruder, too. Together, the three of them kicked, punched, and bit, but still the man did not run away, nor did he fight back.
“Get out of my house!” a voice boomed from the doorway.
Everyone froze and turned their eyes toward Liz’s father and Vanessa, who weren’t expected to return from their honeymoon for another two days.
“You don’t deserve this house. This life. None of this is yours!” Warwick hissed, turning toward Ben as if ready to uncoil the full force of the attack he’d been holding back.
“C’mon, girls,” Vanessa said, ushering for her daughters to join her. “You, too, Liz,” she added as she placed a hand on Liz’s back and guided her toward the staircase.
“No, don’t go!” Warwick tried to grab Liz as she passed.
“Don’t touch my daughter!” Ben yelled, shoving Warwick hard.
“C’mon,” Vanessa pleaded. “Let your father handle this.”
Liz looked back toward her father, who nodded, and followed her stepmom upstairs.
The four of them took refuge in the master bedroom, and Victoria immediately burst into tears. “I am so sorry, Liz. This is all my fault.”
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Vanessa asked, wiping the tears from her daughter’s cheeks.
“I cut school and went with him to…”
“Stop, Tori. It wasn’t your fault,” Liz said as she paced back and forth across the room. “Something else is going on.”
“We’ll talk about all this later, okay?” Vanessa said before giving her daughter a big hug.
“What do you know?” Liz asked, turning toward her stepmother. “What does that man want? How does my dad know him?”
Vanessa shook her head. “I don’t know. Someone called us at the resort, insisted on talking to your father, told him we had to come back early, that it wasn’t safe. We were supposed to go scuba-diving tomorrow, but your father… he panicked, and—”
“Who called and why?” This was getting them nowhere fast. She wished she could just go back downstairs and talk with her father and Warwick, but the truth was, she felt frightened. She needed answers, but not at the expense of her safety… or even her life.
“I don’t know.” Vanessa frowned and shook her head. "I don’t know the answers to either of those questions.”
“Dorian,” Liz said with a scowl. Who else could it be?
Vanessa perked up at that. “The reporter for the paper?”
“Yes. I mean, maybe. I’m not really sure who he is.”
“But if he hadn’t called when he did… I hate to think about what could have happened.” Vanessa rose and pulled Liz into a hug, startling the both of them. “You mean so much to your father. I’d hate for anything to ever happen to you.”
Her dad entered the room then. His mouth bled freely and his shirt was torn, but otherwise, he looked okay.
Liz flew into his arms.
“He’s gone,” her father said before any of them can ask.
“We need to call the police,” Vanessa said, rifling through her purse in her search of her cell phone. “Maybe they can s
till catch him.”
Liz’s dad walked over to his wife and nudged her hands away from her bag. “No,” he said.
“What do you mean no?” Vanessa said with a nervous laugh. “He tried to hurt the girls. He did hurt you.” She reached up to caress his face and sighed. “You’re bleeding, Ben.”
“Come help me get cleaned up, then.”
“But the police…?”
His face was grave and left no room for argument. “No. I took care of it.”
Liz fell back onto the bed after the others left to tend her father’s wounds. Whatever had happened, she highly doubted it had been taken care of. Warwick’s anger only grew once her father had arrived on the scene. This was a man who’d been willing to abduct a minor and force himself into her home uninvited.
Liz knew she hadn’t seen the last of Warwick.
But the next time he turned up, she’d be ready.
Liz stayed the night and had breakfast with the family the next morning. Vanessa served up eggs and bacon while gushing about their “marvelous” honeymoon.
“It really helped, the getting away,” she said, adding another strip of bacon to each of her daughters’ plates. “It was the perfect way to close out the old chapter of our lives and open up a new one.”
Liz sighed. The old chapter didn’t seem closed at all, at least not for her and her father. If anything, Dorian and Warwick had brought them a book they’d never intended reading yet still knew intimately.
“More bacon, sweetie?” Vanessa asked, turning her way.
“What I’d prefer…” Liz grumbled, “are more answers. Heck, any answers.”
“Liz…” her father warned.
“I’ve got this, dear,” Vanessa said, setting the fry pan back on the stove and then taking a seat at the table. She turned toward Liz. “Sometimes no answer is the best answer you can hope for.”
Liz huffed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You don’t see Tori and Val demanding an explanation, do you?”
Her stepsisters looked up at her briefly, than back toward their plates.
“The fact of the matter is, we all make mistakes from time to time. And we shouldn’t have to live with them forever, should we?”
Let There Be Life Page 6
