Trapped

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Trapped Page 4

by Amanda Byrd


  Finishing her coffee in one last chug, Miranda laid the clothes on the air mattress and went back to take a shower. She organized all her shower accessories and started the water to let it warm up a bit. By the time she had shampoo in her hair, she realized she forgot towels. Miranda, you can transform, duh. Yeah, but won’t shaking myself off like a dog frizz my hair? Nope. If it does, you’re grounded for a month. The transformation was a short process, but she still was not terribly used to it yet. At least it did not hurt. She shook dry and surprisingly enough, her hair remained damp enough to blow dry in just a few minutes. Well, at least now I won’t get water all over the floor. Thanks for the save. And for not frizzing my hair. I told you it wouldn’t, why don’t you ever believe me? Oh, um, because you love playing pranks? Dicks. She quickly dressed, dried her hair, and put makeup on. Miranda now felt ready for whatever the day would throw at her, but first, plane tickets and hotel reservations. Pulling the laptop out of her bag, she went back downstairs. She wanted Teddy’s input on the hotel; flights were easy enough.

  Loading the airline site, she quickly reserved two round-trip tickets from Tampa International to London Heathrow.

  “That was easy enough. You gonna come over here and help me pick out a hotel?”

  Pressing the start button on the dishwasher, Teddy walked over and started looking at recommended hotels from some of Miranda’s friends. Together they decided on one close to the castle called Canary Riverside Plaza on Canary Wharf. It looked magnificent. Five stars, as Miranda would suffer no less. A few clicks later and all was settled. Miranda glanced at her watch, quarter to ten, Frank would be here any minute. She chose to continue playing on the internet anyway.

  Five

  Ten am on the dot and not only was Frank at the door, but so were the movers. This is perfect! Perfect bullshit. How did this happen? Talk about cluster, seven hells. Now I actually have to figure this out when here I was planning my meeting with Frank, pondering the criteria for who I’m gonna eat. Ugh. There goes lunch. Closing her laptop, Miranda walked out to the front door only to hear Teddy already berating the movers for not arriving earlier.

  “I’m pretty sure you guys said eight.”

  “We did, Mr. van Wolfe, but we hit a lot of traffic,” the driver of the truck said in a slightly defensive tone.

  “Meanwhile, my wife made it here in twenty-seven hours. Seriously, what’s your real excuse?”

  “We overslept,” the man said, hanging his head in shame.

  Miranda piped up, “You know that’s coming out of your tip, right?”

  The man just shook his head.

  “Alright, enough, get to moving everything into the house,” Teddy huffed, walking to the back of the truck with the two movers.

  Looking at Frank, Miranda apologized, “I’m sorry about that, Frank. They were supposed to be here two hours ago, and apparently Teddy has taken on some of my quirks about timing,” she laughed an almost evil laugh.

  “Follow me,” she said as she turned back toward the kitchen.

  Frank followed like a puppy who had just gotten into trouble for eating the garbage after knocking the can over. If he had a tail, it would have been tucked between his legs. He did not realize he was not in trouble, he was simply terrified of Miranda—with no real reason to be; she had never threatened to eat him. He continued to follow her until she stopped at a window, looking out over the back of the property.

  “Frank, send me your best pool creator,” she started, “and what’s the story with the fence? Why is it not up yet? Something that was supposed to have been finished before I arrived.”

  Shivering from the tone of her voice, he answered with a meek, “I don’t know”, and put his head down.

  “Unacceptable. Frank, that’s two unacceptables in just as many days. Do not make a third. See, I like you and your work, which is why you get this last warning, and I implore you to heed it . . .” she trailed off, letting him digest her words.

  Frank was visibly shaking when Miranda turned around to face him. She wore a hint of an evil smirk.

  “Now, where are the resumes of the guys you have coming today? Also, how many do you have? I don’t have all day to waste interrogating masons, there is furniture shopping to be done,” she said as she slowly, purposefully swung her hand out and around in a gesture of her impatience.

  Frank handed her three resumes but did not speak, further irritating Miranda, though she let it go. She did not want the day to be off to a bad start because it would put her in a bad mood and she hated being in a bad mood. She looked over the resumes and decided on one she was already impressed by, though she agreed to meet with all three of them knowing resumes did not tell the whole story. Frank made a call and walked into the kitchen. Miranda could hear him talking to someone about the fence. It was to be six-foot privacy fence and wrap the whole of the back yard, some two hundred yards around. Miranda needed the space away from the neighbors; she could not have anyone hearing any screams that may invade the night.

  Frank came drifting back over to Miranda, who had made her way to the island bar in the kitchen silently, the amount of terror on his face amusing to her.

  “The fence guy is on his way now,” as stuttering Frank managed.

  Miranda nodded and the doorbell rang again. Frank went to answer it since he personally vetted the three men. He came back with Jose, not the man Miranda had chosen. Jose had barely managed a hello when Miranda waved him off and Frank quickly ushered him out of the house.

  Coming back shaking his head, he asked, “What was that all about?”

  “He barely spoke English. Just because I passed Spanish in college doesn’t mean I speak it, ass.”

  Frank started to protest, to say something about he would deal directly with Jose when the doorbell rang again. Frank rushed off to greet the second interview. Miranda hoped this was the resume she had chosen because she was anxious to get the furniture shopping done for the house so she could go to her other office and pick out furniture for it. This was indeed the man she had chosen based on how he looked on paper.

  “Dr. van Wolfe, this is Billy,” Frank said, motioning from Miranda to Billy.

  While shaking his hand, Miranda said, “Billy, your resume precedes you.”

  He blushed a little and made a movement with his body that looked like it may have been a nervous bow. What has he told these people about me? Jesus! They’re all terrified of me and I’ve said nothing to them! Asshole.

  “Billy, you are aware these pillars you’ll be finishing will hold full-sized gargoyles, right?”

  “I am, ma’am, I mean Doctor.”

  “Christ on a cracker, don’t be afraid of me. All I want is you to do a job and do it well, as your resume indicates you are more than capable of. Will that be a problem?”

  Billy stared at Miranda dumbfounded.

  “You have three seconds to answer that before you’re also on your way back the way you came.”

  “Y-yes, Doctor. I can do that. If there’s any other masonry you need, just let me know. Any time. I actually enjoy gargoyles, too, so thank you for this opportunity.”

  “Good. Now stop stuttering and I’ll see you tomorrow at seven am, Billy.”

  Frank nodded and Billy shook Miranda’s hand again, still thanking her.

  “Please stop calling me Doctor. Call me Miranda.”

  “Okay, Doc-Miranda.”

  Frank showed Billy out while discussing, in hushed tones they did not think Miranda could hear, Billy’s pay. Frank assured him he would get his full asking rate so long as his work was the quality Miranda expected. Miranda giggled. Frank knew she would not mess around and this was his first in-human meeting with her. In-human, good one, Miranda! Hahahaha! Miranda wanted to ask if the monsters within her had separate voices or shared one but she did not have to. We share a voice. Remember, we’re in your head, we know what you
r questions are. Thanks, I think. Whatever, will I ever be able to tell the two of you apart? Probably not. Hell, we can’t always tell each other apart. Oh awesome, just freaking awesome. You two suck. And if either of you start whining while I’m shopping . . . shit, I can’t even threaten you with no food because you both eat the same things. Ugh. Whatever, just stay quiet unless you notice something off, got it? Yes, Miranda.

  She headed for the stairs, where Teddy was directing the movers.

  “You going furniture shopping with me?”

  “Well, don’t we need someone to stay with them while they finish?” Teddy asked, nodding his head in the direction of the master bedroom where the movers were just bringing the bed frame in.

  “Yes and no. How much longer will they be?”

  Turning his head, Teddy yelled up the stairs, “How much longer you two gonna be?”

  A muffled “Twenty or so minutes” floated down at them.

  “Ugh, fine. I’ll wait,” huffed Miranda, “I’ll just go find the cats. I haven’t seen them since I brought them in, anyway.”

  She wandered off to the other side of the house, calling for them as she walked. “Kids! Where are you? Fuzzies! Hey, mommy wants love!”

  Her calls echoed off the bare walls, annoying her sensitive hearing, but they both came running from their room, a simple den that would soon be outfitted with a kitty castle and other such dramatic furnishings. Miranda liked spoiling them, whether they showed appreciation by using their furniture or not. They were cats and cats are assholes, after all. Squatting down to give each the same amount of petting and scratches, she talked to them, telling them she loved them and missed having them cuddle with her. Their names were Margot and Will, appropriately. Their names came from one of Miranda’s favorite book series. Will was reserved and terrified of his own shadow, while Margot was the princess of the house, thinking she called all the shots. Will was twice Margot’s size, but Margot did not care; she was seven pounds of black fur jerkwad.

  Teddy came jogging around the corner to let Miranda know the movers were just about done and Miranda rose from her squat happily, eager to pick out furniture.

  “We’re totally grabbing cheeseburgers—greasy, dirty, beautiful cheeseburgers,” drool forming at the corners of her mouth.

  “You get no argument from me.”

  “Okay cool. I’ll tip these jackasses and we’re out,” Miranda said, grabbing her purse from the island bar.

  The movers came down the stairs at the same moment Miranda and Teddy walked into the foyer. They thanked the movers, Miranda handing each of them a fifty-dollar bill, which was more than they deserved, but they did pack up quickly and asked minimal questions. Teddy escorted them out the front door and together, Teddy and Miranda walked to the garage and Miranda’s waiting Night Chariot. She truly enjoyed driving, regardless that no one else on the roads seemed to know how. She maneuvered the SUV with ease and grace through the traffic, calling it traffic pinball as she weaved, thoughts of cheeseburgers on her mind.

  Miranda stopped at a McDonald’s on South Dale Mabry Highway, just south of the shopping center the furniture store she was going to was located.

  “Let’s eat inside,” she suggested.

  “Okay, I’m good with that.”

  Miranda and Teddy got out of Night Chariot, Miranda getting excited over the chirping lock, and walked into McDonald’s for their long-awaited cheeseburgers.

  Six

  After lunch, Miranda was in full shopping mode. She was excited to have the house fully furnished, no matter how many hours she and Teddy would spend in various furniture stores. The first stop was American something-or-other Furniture. This was Miranda’s all-time favorite furniture store. When they walked in, immediately a salesperson approached and she flicked a hand at him, saying, “When I need you, I’ll let you know. Thanks though.”

  Note: we eat this guy first. I get he’s just doing his job, but I’m hungry and he’s meaty. Yum! Miranda, he looks absolutely delicious! I know, ass, that’s why he’s coming home with us. Tonight. She smiled her “eat you later” smile and started at the right side of the store, choosing this and that, working her way to the mattresses for the guest rooms, then the left side of the store. Finally, she went to the back, where the kitchen, dining room, and office furniture were. She was not impressed with the office furniture in the slightest. Looks like Staples or Office Depot or somewhere else that will have my mahogany desk and super comfy roller chair. Oh well, I don’t mind. Furniture shopping is fun anyway. She found a beautiful kitchen set that sat four—black wood with white tile that looked like marble in the center—and nothing for the formal dining room. She called over the initial sales guy, Norm was his name, or so his name tag indicated, and went through the store, pointing out everything she wanted- couches, chairs, bedroom sets, mattresses, all of it. He followed her like a puppy, knowing the commission he would make from her sale, eagerly assisting her by tagging the models and writing down the sales order. Norm then took her to the back of the store to pay and set up delivery. The cashier was polite enough for Miranda to not want to eat her too. Miranda did not hear the total, nor did she care to. Teddy, however, did.

  “I’m sorry, you said how much?” he asked in astonishment.

  “I said $6,489.23,” the cashier replied with an indifferent tone.

  Turning to Miranda, Teddy asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Well, of course, I’m sure,” she replied and then turned her attention to the cashier, “So, how soon can it all be delivered. None of this delivered on separate days nonsense.”

  “Well,” she looked at the delivery calendar on her computer, “how does tomorrow between three pm and six pm work?”

  “I’ll take it,” Miranda happily replied.

  She signed the paperwork, handed the girl her card, shook Norm’s hand, and left the store, Teddy still in shock. They climbed into Night Chariot and headed for Staples, which was just across Dale Mabry. Of course, in any high-traffic area, it took almost ten minutes. Miranda parked and they walked into Staples and straight to the back, where they kept the furniture. Again, she did not find anything to suit her imagination. Back on South Dale Mabry, they headed toward Office Depot. It was here Miranda found what she wanted. It was not something they kept in stock in-store, as they were informed by the salesperson, but Miranda had to have it. It was mahogany, had a center drawer and two drawers on either side, all of which locked. Miranda even found the perfect comfy chair that had wheels. Again, Miranda went to the cashier to pay and set up delivery. This time, Teddy did not want to know the final price. After all, Miranda made a lot of money, saving a large portion of it, investing some here and there, and she earned it. This delivery was scheduled for tomorrow between ten o’clock and noon, leaving plenty of time for Miranda to enjoy a blood pack or two before the rest of the household furniture was delivered. All that was left now was shopping for her office, but that could wait until her and Teddy’s return from London.

  On their way home, they discussed how to get that Norm guy back to the house, along with who would watch, follow, and snatch him. Together it was decided Teddy would take his pick-up truck, which was also all black with tinted windows and black interior. He also had a locking bed cover so no one would notice anyone in the back. Miranda and Teddy worked so well together, it was truly no wonder they had managed to hit a lot of rocky patches yet stay together after working them all out.

  The rest of the day was uneventful, with Miranda starting to organize what was in her luggage in the custom closet. She had a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder, enough so that certain pull-out bins were labeled with what was in them, hanging garments were arranged by color then sleeve length, and so on. She did not like the OCD moniker, preferring to be called highly organized—to a fault. This took her until sunset. Teddy was long gone, watching that Norm guy so he could grab him for Miranda’s dinner before whi
ch, they would properly grocery shop—food for both of them, or her human side at least.

  The sun had been down for about an hour or so when Teddy returned. He parked in the garage, Norm still in the bed of the truck. Teddy popped open the bed cover to make sure the man was still breathing, which he was, then closed and locked the bed cover. He went into the house and up to their bedroom, where Miranda was watching cat videos on YouTube with their cats watching like there was a mouse in front of them to be tortured and played with.

  “He’s in the bed of my truck, am I keeping him there?”

  “No, lock him in the office. The windows are bulletproof. Oh, my bad, I forgot to tell you that. All the windows in the house are bulletproof. Crazies and hurricanes and shit . . .”

  Teddy nodded and went back down to the garage and scooped Norm out of the truck bed, carrying him fireman style, and right into the office, as Miranda requested. Leaving the office, he locked the door behind him and went to check that the fence was now finished being installed, which it was. Teddy was honestly impressed with Miranda’s ability to choose contractors from thousands of miles away. There was no escape for Norm once he was set loose for Miranda’s game of human hunting. Teddy could hear the screams now, as if the game was happening right this minute. First, they had proper food shopping to get done.

  “Miranda,” he yelled from the bottom of the stairs, “come on. We have to go to the grocery store.”

  He heard her sigh and she reluctantly came downstairs. She had to maintain the appearance of being fully human to outsiders, no matter what. They lived so far out, the closest store was around fifteen minutes away. They spent about an hour or so gathering everything they would need for, at least, the next two weeks. Miranda despised weekly food shopping and honestly considered having one of those grocery delivery services do it for her, but she was too particular and did not want to let someone else choose her groceries. Back home they went, where Miranda put the groceries away, eagerly, and obviously excited to get on with her first hunting game in her own little preserve. Maybe we can add a torturous maze? No, no, no maze. I’d rather they run in terror, thinking there may be some way out and there isn’t. The taste that adrenaline and fear gives . . . Her mouth started watering.

 

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