Closing Books (Ghost Of The Past)
Page 9
“Are you okay?” his man asked.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re just moving around, doing nothing.”
Dan frowned, then turned and walked away.
His staff was right.
Confusion was clouding his mind, making it impossible for him to concentrate on anything. Instead of being any real help, he had basically been floating around the gym, checking everything and registering nothing.
The determination he’d felt last week was fading.
Instead of taking his mind off Evelyn, he had started to hope; hope planted by Christine’s continual speech on true love.
There was also the little Q&A session that he had with Kate, that was making him question the frustrations he thought was justified.
Even with his cluttered mind, he instantly noticed Evelyn as she strolled through the gym’s doors. He watched as she yawned and stretched her back, her hand holding a rolled-up piece of paper.
She waved the paper before her nose, trying to push the dust away from her face.
He couldn’t help but grin as he thought about the irony of Evelyn hating dust. Putting aside her house that was a permanent setting of the aftermath of a hurricane sweeping through the ladies department, there was no way she could avoid dust whenever she had to work on a piece of custom furniture.
She was so particular with details and quality that she tended to build them from scratch instead of finding parts and piecing them together, then passing it off as her own.
When Evelyn’s eyes began scanning the gym, Dan was tempted to hold his gaze to see if she was searching for him. But he decided that he wasn’t up for another round of disappointment so early in the morning.
He dropped his gaze and searched for something he could busy his hand with.
Carefully, he maneuvered through the main area of the gym that was acting as a storage and work area; wood paneling for the floors, sound-proof doors, and several huge mirrors leaned against one of the walls while another was lined with a few pieces of equipment.
He went over to a group of his men who were throwing around suggestions on how best to move the huge mirror without causing any damage. Everyone looked up at him, seemingly expecting him to put in some of his suggestions or give some commands. Instead, he simply looked away from them and back to Evelyn.
The instant their eyes met, his legs twitched as they instinctively wanted to move toward her. But he forced his heels back down and glued his legs to the floor. He turned his attention to his men who were beginning to yell at each other, making sure that everyone had a good grip on the mirror.
He had no idea what they were trying to do, but his hand gripped along the edge and he moved along with the rest of the guys.
The shouting continued while they tried to get the right angle to maneuver the piece of mirror around the cluttered place. His focus was required for the task, yet he couldn’t help feeling the strong sensation that someone was staring at him.
He looked up from the mirror and saw Evelyn gazing at him.
This time, Evelyn tore her eyes away and turned her back to him.
He sighed softly, and his disappointment quickly became irritation when he found himself wishing that she hadn’t done so. He should know how good Evelyn was at pretending that he didn’t exist, he’d already experienced it several times.
He took in a deep breath and adjusted his grip, fixing the piece of mirror for the studio.
“Hi, handsome!”
Dan looked over his shoulders, his hands still supporting the mirror against the wall, waiting for the industrial superglue to dry. “Chris! What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood, I thought I’d drop by and see if you’re free to go out for coffee or something.”
He hesitated for a moment. Without control, his eyes darted toward Evelyn.
Christine noticed it and followed his gaze. She looked over just in time to see Evelyn hastily moving away in the opposite direction. “So she’s Evelyn? That explains the look she gave me when she saw me walking in.”
“The look?”
Christine nodded while Dan’s eyes flickered over to Evelyn again. She was no longer looking at them and was busy texting on her phone. Just then, Evelyn turned and moved toward the door, her eyes still fixated on her phone, completely unaware that she was heading right into a few men whose eyes were glued to the large piece of mirror they were gingerly handling.
“Eve!” Dan shouted and sprinted toward her.
His shout effectively stopped Evelyn in her tracks and her head snapped right up.
Evelyn saw the mirror. Her knees locked and she froze in place, but it wasn’t enough. The men carrying the mirrors heard Dan’s shout as well, and in panic, the mirror slipped from one of their hands.
She saw the corner of the mirror making its descent toward the floor. She should get out of the way before the mirror shattered right before her face, but there wasn’t enough time.
She closed her eyes and braced for the pain. Instead, she felt a strong tug, felt the warmth and security, and the thumps of heartbeats.
Then, she heard the mirror smashing, heard the men’s shouts, but that was it.
She didn’t feel any sting from the pieces of mirror that should have come raining down on her.
Slowly, she raised her head and saw that her hands were fisted up in a black t-shirt; the same black t-shirt that Dan was wearing.
She looked up as Dan’s hand moved from the back of her head and cupped against her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against her cheeks.
“Are you all right? Did you get hurt?” His eyes searched her face, then moved onto her neck. When she continued to stare up at him, Dan took her hands and stepped back, giving her a look over. “Eve,” he said softly and squeezed her hand. “Eve, talk to me.”
“She’s fine! You’re not!” “Dan, I’m so sorry.” His men spoke at the same time, but Dan didn’t bother paying attention to any of them.
Evelyn blinked when she heard the statements, and she finally snapped out of her trance. “You’re hurt?” She pulled her hands from Dan and ran her hands down his arm. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Dan said softly, taking her hands back into his.
“Dan, you’re bleeding,” Christine stated, getting both Dan and Evelyn’s attention.
“Where are you hurt?” Evelyn asked again, peeling her eyes from Christine.
Dan’s hand reached up to the back of his neck and pulled out a shred of the mirror. He winced slightly, but casually threw the piece of mirror onto the floor. “Nothing serious.”
Evelyn moved around him and brushed her hand against his hair, checking if he suffered any cuts on his head. She sighed, relieved that there didn’t appear to be any serious injuries. His neck had a few cuts, with one that appeared to be deep. “We should call Joseph and ask him to take a look.”
“I’m fine.” Dan shifted and pulled Evelyn back in front of him. He pushed her hair behind her ears and asked again, “Are you all right? You’re not hurt, right?”
Shaking her head, her eyes searched the mess on the floor and found her phone. “I’m fine. I’m calling Joseph.”
“I should go,” Christine said with a smile. Then she turned to Evelyn, and with a wider grin, she continued. “He got injured because of you. You should stay with him and make sure he’s fine.”
Before Evelyn could say anything, Christine was out of the door.
Evelyn frowned and watched Christine leave as she unlocked her phone. “You should go after her.”
“I’m fine where I am. Besides, I’m hurt. I shouldn’t be running around.”
She would have been guilty if she thought he meant what he had said, but his goofy grin told her otherwise. She returned his smile, then turned away to speak to Joseph on the phone.
A few of the men continued staring at them until Dan shot them a glare.
Everyone around them got back to work, leaving the two of them alo
ne. Dan placed his hand on her back and led her out of the gym. Sitting by the curb, he waited for her to finish the call and join him.
Instead of sitting beside Dan, she went over to her car and opened the trunk. She opened a bottle of water and poured it onto a clean face towel. Striding back to Dan, she gently dabbed on the wounds to wipe away the blood, then handed the towel to him. “Apply some pressure on it.”
Dan did as he was told. With a wry smile, he said, “I didn’t think you were someone who’d keep a water bottle and a towel in the trunk.”
Sniggering with absolute understanding, she answered, “Not only do I have that, I have a fresh set of clothes in a Ziploc bag and a first aid kit.” Smiling at him, she continued. “Kate packed them for me.”
“I knew it.”
She chuckled softly. It was always easy to laugh around him. “I’m sorry for getting you hurt.”
“I’m fine, really,” Dan assured, flashing a wide grin.
She grinned and nodded, but her smile instantly evolved into a frown when her phone buzzed. She looked at the unsaved number and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing; it’s…” She wanted to come up with an excuse, but she was so tired of lying. “Nothing.”
“Who’s the one calling?”
She stared at him, clutching the phone in her hand.
“Let me help.”
She wanted so much to tell him everything; everything that had happened during the last few years of her foster nightmare; everything that she had been going through, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Her voice disappeared and she couldn’t get it to work.
“Eve, you can trust me.”
Again, she opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to tell him that she already did.
Since her foster days, she had found it difficult to ask for help.
She had asked for help once. She had told her teacher what was happening in her foster home. Instead of the help that she had prayed for and expected, her teacher scorned her.
In hindsight, she could understand why her teacher didn’t believe her. She wasn’t the best student. She talked back to the teacher, never handed in her work, and was barely passing her tests.
She could understand, but she couldn’t forgive.
Yes, she wasn’t the perfect student, but she didn’t deserve to be scorned and told off.
Then, she asked for help from her school nurse. Instead of telling her what happened, Evelyn had taken off her shirt and showed the nurse her wounds. Her school nurse immediately called in Evelyn’s caseworker, but after an interview with the she-devil, her caseworker chose to believe that Evelyn got her wounds due to a fight she had gotten into.
A look at her wounds would have been clear that it was impossible for the she-devil’s story to be true. All her wounds were carefully made such that they would be hidden by her clothes, but her caseworker never bothered. The result of her cry for help was another scathing remark from her caseworker, the cruel realization that she was indeed all alone, and the increased disproportionate torture toward her.
But even with all that, she trusted Dan.
Each time she picked up her phone to call him, no matter where they stood in their strange relationship, no matter how late it was, he always picked up and showed up without demanding any explanation.
She trusted him, with all her heart, but she didn’t trust herself.
How could someone like her ever make Dan happy? How could she expect anything of Dan when she couldn’t give him what he wanted.
In the end, she could only shake her head.
“Eve…”
“I’m sorry, I should go.” If Dan hadn’t been thoroughly disappointed by her, she was positive this would do so.
“Eve, wait!”
She ran across the road, not caring about the cars rushing by and the angry honks she incurred. She slid into her car and drove off, peeling her eyes off the disappointed face of Dan in her rear view mirror. This is better for everyone.
Chapter Nine
After a whole day of working at her workshop, carving intricate flowers into the chest she had made, Evelyn was just stepping into the office when her phone vibrated. She threw her head back, giving a loud, annoyed sigh before reaching into her bag to dig for her phone.
Her morning with Dan already had her mood rocking between throwing herself off the building and a volcano eruption. After an unsuccessful day of trying to drown herself in work, her mood was definitely tilting toward a major volcano eruption.
As she took out her phone, she caught a glimpse of Kate walking out of the pantry. Without thinking, she turned around, hurried away from the office, and down the corridor she’d just came from. “Again? I just gave you a thousand this morning. Do you know how much you’ve already taken from me? Do you really think that I’m a bank? I don’t have any more money.”
“Well, you’d better find some in the next hour. I want two thousand. You know where to find me.” The line went dead, leaving behind the monotonous beep to mock her.
The elevator’s door flew open and she jabbed impatiently at the button, even as it was already descending.
She kept her feet moving and managed to keep her tears at bay until she got into her car. Her tears fell in unison with the groaning of her car’s engine. Tears slid down her cheek and landed on her ebony skirt, seeping into it and disappearing within moments of their landing.
Again, she flung her arms against the steering wheel, fighting a losing battle against it.
She wasn’t sure how long it was, but eventually, her arms lost their strength, and she dropped them onto her legs.
Between sobs, she reached for a piece of tissue and dabbed at the tears on her face.
Leaning back against the leather-cushioned seat, Evelyn closed her eyes and focused her attention on the radiating pain on her arm. The pain, in an uncanny way, was a reminder of what she’d overcome, and that gave her hope; something that had been missing in the recent weeks.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she took in a slow, deep breath, easing away all the emotions from her face. She locked all her fears, shame, and pain away into a small box and shoved it into a deep corner of her heart.
Evelyn took her bag from the passenger seat and pulled out her pocket mirror and makeup to touch up the washed-off concealer around her eyes. Thank God for waterproof mascara.
When she decided that she looked decent enough, she pulled the car out of the building and made a quick stop to withdraw the two thousand dollars she needed before driving toward the meeting point.
The towering trees and well-mowed grass faded as she drove toward an area where decent people avoided. Soon, the suit wearing crowd was replaced by sparse loitering crowds wearing hooded sweatshirts and jeans hanging low on their hips.
The bored faces gathered along fences, some in groups while others idled alone. Most had their hoods over their heads while their watchful, skeptical eyes glanced around.
The solitary colored, high-rise buildings had also disappeared, and in place of it were low-rise buildings that lined the sides of the roads. A layer of grayish dust had settled over the neglected walls. The only hint of fresh colors was the vibrant red, yellow, and blue graffiti that overlaid the dullish walls.
Words and random symbols were drawn over one another, making the task of deciphering the words near impossible.
The whole neighborhood brought up only one word in her mind. Despair.
She could see herself in the jaded looks of the teens; teens who shouldn’t be out on a street like that.
Months ago, she would have driven through a neighborhood like that and think she was done with that life. Life with a sense of hopelessness, with nothing to look forward to.
No silver lining.
Evelyn sighed and crooked her jaws as she stopped by the same street that she had become a frequent visitor to.
The streets were still relatively deserted, but in a few hours, it’d be teeming with women
standing by the sidewalk, and there would be plenty of cars driving by.
While she sat in her car, she stared down everyone who walked by. Looking away from the stares would only make her look weak, and being weak in such an area equated to becoming a victim.
She knew most of the stares she was receiving were out of pure curiosity. Her car, though old, was polished, cleaned, and without any signs of bullet holes. An unusual sight in this neighborhood.
While waiting, her mind wandered off to the younger version of her blackmailer.
Amy was only six when Evelyn met her.
No, Evelyn hadn’t met Amy, Mandy did.
Mandy Shannon; the young girl who was thrown from foster home to foster home, carrying all her possessions in a black plastic bag.
Plastic bag was a nice term. It was really just a black trash bag.
A black trash bag they gave to foster children to keep their belongings. It was as if all of her things were garbage; just as she was.
She was thrown from homes with parents who promised to care for her to another when she was no longer wanted.
They always had a reason.
The foster parents finally conceived and needed to spend more time on their own flesh and blood. The foster parents couldn’t afford to keep her, the checks received from the government weren’t enough. The flesh and blood of the foster parents didn’t like her, so she had to go.
With each home, the young, naive Mandy Shannon quickly died and an older, colder, and angrier Mandy Shannon appeared.
She learned never to trust the words of adults. No one truly cared for her, not her caseworker and definitely not her foster parents. She was only at a house until she was no longer needed or wanted.
Like her stuff, she was disposable garbage to them.
By the time she had gotten to Mrs. Moore, Mandy was by all means a problematic child. She stood and gave no reaction when the seemingly cordial Mrs. Moore introduced Amy and Leah to her.
Her caseworker had smiled politely to Mrs. Moore before whispering harshly into her ears, warning her to behave. Then, the adults led all of them to a dull, yellowish couch where they had their own conversation. While the adults chatted, Mandy took the chance to glance around the living room and at Amy and Leah, the other two girls who were already under Mrs. Moore’s care.