Auctioned to Him 5: Her Addiction

by Charlotte Byrd

“No, they’re going to believe him.”

  “Ellie, please. I don't want you to get arrested.”

  “I don’t want to get arrested either.”

  “What do you think being put in the back of the cruiser means? Those doors don’t open from the inside, you know,” Aiden says, shaking me. He’s holding me by my shoulders, trying to make me focus on him. But all I can see and hear is what’s happening on that porch. I can’t look away.

  “I need them to know the truth,” I say, burying my hands in my pockets and sulking. And then, it hits me. Yes, of course!

  Chapter 9 - Ellie

  When they finally believe me…

  I run my fingers over Aiden’s cell phone and everything becomes crystal clear. Suddenly, I remember that Tom still has my phone. He took it away from me. So, he must still have it. Of course, he may have left it in Caroline’s cottage, but he may have taken it with him.

  But wait, he’s wearing different clothes. I doubt that he still has it on him. I look up at him and watch how expertly he is playing the part of the innocent man. The police officer is asking him questions, and he is shrugging and volunteering a lot of information. His shoulders are relaxed. His face doesn’t have a single ounce of tension. Has he always been this good of an actor? Or did he just recently develop this skill?

  I always thought that Tom was a good guy. I always thought that he was honest and hardworking. Maybe he was a little put upon, you know he worried a little too much about things that don’t really matter. It’s like he always carried the world on his shoulders. He wanted to be this perfect idea of a journalist that he imagined Ernest Hemingway was and he wanted to live up to someone else’s fiction. He didn’t see people as people, but as stories and illusions of who they were. He believed the myths and he always hated himself for being unable to live up to those myths.

  But now, looking up at him standing on that porch, pretending that he did nothing wrong, that he was a complete innocent, I see a completely different man. He’s no longer kind or sweet. He is just as self-absorbed, but not in the romantic way that I was once attracted to. He’s not just cocky and confident. No, he’s more of a psychopath. He is wearing a mask for the world and only I can see the truth. And Aiden, but that’s only because he believes me. No, I have to do something to show his true self to everyone. Without that, the Warrenhouses will never believe me. And neither will Carrie. And despite my feelings about Carrie, she deserves to know the truth about the man she’s about to marry.

  “Excuse me!” I yell, running past Aiden and the cop positioned at the bottom of the porch. The only reason I’m able to sneak by is because both of them have let their guard down. And, by the time they realize what I’m doing, it’s too late.

  “Ma’am, you can’t be here,” the cop on the porch says to me. His voice is flat and calm. He’s unnerved by my outburst. Carrie, Tom, and the Warrenhouses, on the other hand, all take a few steps away from me. As if they are afraid to catch my crazy.

  “Ellie,” Carrie says softly. “Can you please excuse us?”

  This isn’t the Carrie I know. She’s quiet and reserved. This is the Carrie that she pretends to be around her parents.

  I shake my head.

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  “How can we help you, miss?” Mr. Warrenhouse asks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aiden’s bewildered expression. Suddenly, I remember that his livelihood and the survival of Owl hangs in the balance. It’s all up to Mr. Warrenhouse, or rather Robert. I don’t want to screw that up. Of course not. But they deserve to know the truth.

  “I don’t know what Tom told you.” I turn partly to the police officer and partly toward the Warrenhouses. Tom is standing a bit further apart, on the periphery, but still close enough to intimidate me.

  I take a deep breath. “I don’t know what Tom told you,” I repeat myself. “Or why he’s dressed in his pajamas and a robe, but I suspect that he is not telling you the truth.”

  “How so?” Mrs. Warrenhouse asks.

  “I caught him…having sex with Caroline. She was unconscious. Passed out. And when I tried to call the police and report him, he took my phone away and attacked me.”

  “I did no such thing!” Tom says. “I was in bed with Carrie the whole time. Tell her!”

  “Yes…he…was,” Carries says tentatively. Her statement isn’t as confident or sure as it seemed before. I don’t know if she’s lying or just covering for him, but at this point I don't really care.

  “Yes, you did,” I say. “He wouldn’t let me leave. When I finally got out of that cottage, he attacked me. I had to hit him with a rock just to break free.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tom laughs at me, shaking his head. I look at him and everyone else staring back at me. I have to make them believe me somehow.

  “He probably has a mark someplace. I hit him pretty hard around the temple.”

  The police officer narrows his eyes. I see him scrutinizing Tom’s appearance. “That’s not true,” Tom says.

  “Well, in that case, you wouldn’t mind taking off your hat, would you?” the cop asks. Tom’s face loses all color. It’s as if all the blood drains away from his face.

  “Listen, I didn’t tell you earlier because I had no idea she was going to make this kind of accusation. But I fell earlier.”

  The rhythm of his speech speeds up. He’s looking for a way out. For a possible explanation for the mark that we both know is there.

  “Please remove your hat,” the cop says. We all wait. After a few moments of hesitation, he finally pulls it off. He runs his fingers through his limp messy hair, turning his right temple away from us. But no matter how much he tries to cover it up, it’s there. As clear as daylight. There’s a small cut and bruise, right next to his hairline.

  Mrs. Warrenhouse gives out a little gasp.

  “I slipped and fell last night. In the bathroom,” Tom rattles off. “I had a little bit too much to drink. But then I was in bed with Carrie the whole night.”

  “Is that true, Carrie?” Mrs. Warrenhouse asks.

  Carrie nods, looking down at the ground. She’s avoiding eye contact with her mom and all of us. I can see that she’s having doubts and isn’t entirely sure at all. I glance over at the police officer. If he wasn’t having doubts about Tom’s story before, he is now.

  “Did you say that he took your phone?” he asks after a moment.

  “Yes, he did!” I say. Finally, I feel like I’m making some progress. All the doubts that he probably accumulated in his head are finally starting to add up to something bigger.

  I take out Aiden’s phone from my pocket.

  “What are you doing?” Carrie asks.

  “I’m going to call my phone.”

  “I don’t have your phone, Ellie,” Tom says. “I have no idea why you’re doing this. I thought you were my friend.”

  This makes me mad. He’s using our friendship to appeal to my sense of empathy. He’s trying to manipulate me. I read that in an article about psychopaths before. That’s their go-to strategy. Normal people have friendships and relationships, and if they are involved with a psychopath in their life, then they are easily manipulated because the psychopath sees nothing wrong with pulling at their heart strings to get what they want.

  “I thought you were my friend, Tom. I thought you were Caroline’s. I never expected you to do that to her.”

  “I didn’t do anything to her, Ellie. You’re—“

  “I’m not wrong,” I interrupt him.

  “No, you’re just…mistaken.”

  I stare at him. Is he really saying this? The confidence in his voice is unnerving. If I didn’t know the truth, I would be tempted to believe him. Wow. Shivers run down my spine. He’s actually giving me chills.

  “No, I’m not.” I dial my number on Aiden’s phone. Please be somewhere around here, I say to myself. It has to be around here.

  Of course, I wouldn’t put it past Tom to hide the phone somewhere where no
one would find it. Maybe even toss it into the ocean. But I pray that he didn’t think it through that much.

  We all wait for a few moments, but we don’t hear anything. After a few minutes, it goes to voice mail. Shit.

  “No, no, no. He took my phone,” I insist. “Please, you have to believe me.”

  The police officer shakes his head. “It’s fine. I do,” he says unconvincingly.

  But that’s not good enough. I dial the number again. Again, we all wait to hear something. Anything.

  “Okay, miss, let me finish talking to these people here, okay?” the police officer says to me. “I already have your statement.”

  He is escorting me away from them. “If we need anything else from you, I will be in touch.”

  He walks me all the way down the stairs and hands me over to Aiden. Aiden puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a reassuring hug.

  “It’s going to be okay. They’ll figure it out,” he whispers in my ear. But somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better. They don't believe me now and there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. My throat closes up as I gasp for breath. I’ve become overcome with emotion and regret and there’s nothing I can do to stop any of it. No one believes me. At least no one who really should. Aiden wraps his arms around me and wipes the tears that stream out of my eyes.

  “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he whispers over and over.

  My nose starts to run and no matter how much I inhale and try to keep it all inside my throat and mouth, all the goop starts to come out. Gross. I turn my face away from Aiden and everyone else as I continue to ugly cry.

  Somewhere, in between my gasps for air, I hear the front door to the house open. Through the tears, I can’t quite make out what’s going on. But as I wipe them away and slow down my breathing somewhat, I realize that there’s another police officer up on the porch with them. He’s not the one who I spoke to and he isn’t the one who blocked my entrance to the porch. No, this is someone entirely new. I’ve never seen him before.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Aiden. He shrugs.

  We watch as the police officer, the new one who is wearing blue latex gloves, shows the other one something. They both turn to face me.

  “Is this your phone, miss?” he asks, holding up my phone with a light pink glittery cover.

  “Yes! It is. Where did you find it?” I exclaim.

  “In Ms. Warrenhouse’s room,” he says. Carrie shakes her head, stepping away from Tom.

  “Carrie, no, this is some sort of misunderstanding,” he says, grabbing her hand. But she shakes it off and walks away from him.

  “Please, you have to believe me.”

  Tom continues to beg and plead, but it’s all to no avail. Carrie and her parents extricate themselves from him and go inside. Tom tries to follow them inside, but the police officer who took my statement takes him by the arm and escorts him down the stairs toward his cruiser.

  “What’s going on? Am I under arrest?”

  “We need to ask you more questions at the station, Tom,” the cop says, holding his head down as he puts him in the back of his cruiser.

  “You bitch!” Tom yells at me as he slams the door shut.

  I inhale and exhale deeply as I feel the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. Aiden turns me around to face him. He buries his hands in my hair and tugs slightly, relieving all the pressure that has built up.

  “Mmm-mmm,” I moan.

  “You’re amazing,” he says, pressing his lips onto mine. Slowly, he parts my lips and runs his tongue over mine. Whatever tension remains in my body, all but dissipates.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 10 - Ellie

  When we go to see Caroline…

  Instead of returning to the cottage and getting some sleep, Aiden and I decide to go straight to the hospital to see about Caroline. Despite the fact that I didn’t get a minute of shut-eye last night, I know that there’s no way that I could get any rest without seeing her first. I have to know if she’s alright.

  Instead of calling another driver to take us there, Aiden made a few calls and a sleek, brand new silver BMW arrived for him to use direct from the local rental place. I had no idea that you could even rent a car without going to the lot, but I guess anything is possible for the right price.

  On the way over, Aiden and I don’t really talk. I find a pop station on the radio and turn it up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sour expression on his face. It feels like it’s about something more than what just happened with Tom and the police. Something more visceral. Primal even.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “No, nothing.” He shrugs it off.

  “Tell me,” I insist. “Are you worried about Caroline?”

  “Well, yes, of course I am.”

  “But your facial expression, just now, it’s not about that is it?”

  He flashes a coy smile at me.

  “Are you hungry? Do you want to drive through Starbucks on the way?”

  “Yes, definitely. But don’t change the subject.”

  “Okay, fine. I’m not a huge fan of pop music.”

  Hmm. I’m actually taken aback by this.

  “And by not being a huge fan, I mean, I hate it.”

  I look over at him. He actually looks a little proud in announcing this.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, shaking my head. “You mean, you don’t like…who? Beyonce? Taylor Swift? Bruno Mars?”

  Aiden shakes his head definitively. “No, I don’t.”

  “None of them? Or just one or two?” I ask. I still can’t believe what I’m hearing. Are these words actually coming out of his mouth?

  “Let’s just say that I’m more of a rock ’n roll kind of guy,” he says, shrugging.

  I stare at him. Dumbfounded.

  “Close your mouth, dear,” Aiden says, joking. He reaches out and physically lifts my chin up to the rest of the mouth.

  “I’m just shocked. I mean…I don’t even understand the words that you are saying.”

  “Well, what can I say?”

  “So, what kind of music do you like then?”

  “Um, let’s see. The classics mainly. Old bands. You know, Led Zeppelin, Yard Birds, the Rolling Stones. I have a bunch of their records at home.”

  “Records?”

  “Yep, I’m pretty old school.”

  “Don’t you need a turn table, too?” I ask. “Or whatever that’s called.”

  “Yep, and I’ve got that, too.”

  I shake my head and laugh as we pull into the Starbucks drive-through. Luckily, pumpkin spice lattes are still in season because I don’t think I can handle any more surprises today. I also order a breakfast wrap.

  “Do you want me to put something else on?” I ask as we pull away with our hot drinks and breakfasts in hand.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m just warning you…for the future.”

  I laugh. “Well, speaking of the future, I’m not sure how I feel about being involved with someone who doesn’t like Beyonce.”

  “Oh, really?” Aiden raises his eyebrows. “Well, we’re in agreement then. I’m not sure how I feel about being involved with someone who does.”

  We take a sip of our drinks and break out laughing. As we pull into the hospital parking lot, I suddenly realize that I really needed this. A break from all the doom and gloom.

  “This is nice,” I say. “It’s a nice break from everything else that happened today. Oh my God, I can’t believe how long this day has been already.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Aiden says. “I mean, at least I got some sleep. But you…you must be exhausted.”

  Yep, bing, bing, bing. In fact, I’m more than exhausted. I’m actually shocked that I”m still standing up straight. I’ve been up for more hours than I can count and haven’t laid down once since the party. And given everything that happened, and how much sleep I require j
ust to function like a normal person, I’m pretty sure that once I do go to sleep, I will be asleep for a very, very long time.

  Once we pull into the hospital parking lot, the mood in the car grows more serious. Neither of us know what to say or what to expect. I’m just glad that Aiden is here for me. I don’t think I could go in there all by myself.

  “I hate hospitals,” I say on our walk over. “Actually, I’m sort of terrified of them.”

  “You are?”

  “Well, I’ve never even been in one. I mean, not overnight or for any other reason. So I just sort of associate them…with bad things.”

  “Yes, bad things happen in hospitals. But good things happen, too. People get better.”

  I think about that for a moment. “Do you think Caroline will?”

  “Yes, I do,” he says quickly. I don’t know if he said it that way as a show of confidence or if he actually believes it. But I hope to God that he’s right.

  When we get inside, Aiden takes charge and asks the nurses about Caroline. He gives them all of Caroline’s info. Even though we are not technically family, he sweet talks them into letting us through. Besides, Caroline’s family isn’t anywhere near Maine and I’m the closest thing to family that they have.

  The younger, doe-eyed nurse who looks like she has been working for a full twelve-hour shift already shows us to her room. I follow behind Aiden all up to the point where we reach her room, and then he turns around and pushes me forward.

  “She’ll want to see you first,” he whispers in my ear. Before I know what’s going on, I find myself inside. The lighting is harsh and unpleasant, but the smile that pops up on Caroline’s face when she sees me is genuine and bright.

  “Oh my God.” I run over to her and grab her hand. I try not to squeeze too hard, but I can’t help myself. I can’t even believe that she’s awake. And alive.

  “How are you? Are you okay?”

  Caroline shakes her head with great difficulty. “I’m good,” she whispers. Her voice is raspy and forced. She’s clearly not good, but even in this state she’s in much better shape than I ever imagined she would be. I mean, yes, of course, I was remaining positive and optimistic. But it wasn’t until I actually saw her alive and smiling that I realized just how lost I thought she was.