Unwritten (8 page)

He turned his back. “Come on and eat. I made you some eggs.”

“You know me so well,” she bit out and followed, plotting her next attack. She took in his broad back. If she jumped him now, he’d pluck her off like a bothersome gnat. He had a gun. Could she use it against him? He was still her cousin, and she did love him despite what he’d done, but he deserved prison. She would not help him to get out of town or the country, or whatever his plan entailed.

They strode across the living room to a small dining area. The place seemed really nice, but not exactly Anthony’s style. Two plates of food sat on the table, both with bacon, eggs, and toast. She took a seat and sighed.

“Where are we?” She picked up the fork beside her plate and pushed the food around without eating it. “This isn’t your place.”

Anthony tucked into his food, shoveling it into his mouth like someone threatened to steal it if he didn’t. When he took a breath, he answered her question. “No, it’s not mine. This penthouse belongs to a friend. He owed me a favor.”

“Penthouse?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “The elevator travels from the lobby to this apartment. Pretty cool. I was careful before I went in, so I didn’t spend a lot of money, but if I did, I would have gotten something like this. Different furnishings, though, but definitely I’d live big. I will once I get out of here. Maybe go to Fiji. What do you think, Evie? Fiji?”

“I think I want to go home.”

He slammed his fork down, and his plate rattled. “When are you going to get it straight?”

“I’ve got it straight,” she shot back. “You’re the one that’s delusional.”

He gritted his teeth and blew air so hard out of his nose his nostrils flared. “Eat your food.”

She shoved the plate away. “You act like you know me so well, but all you see is what you want to see. All you do is what pleases you. I don’t eat eggs.”

“Since when?”

“Birth.”

His chair banged the floor when it turned over, and he walked around the table to her side. She thought he’d hit her again, and she shrank away, her arm up to block the blow. He grabbed the plate and threw it across the room. Eggs, bacon, and toast splattered the wall, and the plate shattered.

“Go back to the room. I can’t look at you right now.” His voice cast low warned of his state of mind. He seemed close to snapping. Chills raced up and down her spine, and she tried rubbing away the goose bumps on her arms.

“Anthony—”

“Get in there, Evie! Now!”

She ran from the room and slammed the door behind her. A full five minutes passed before she could calm down, and then she realized she was hungry and she needed to go to the bathroom. Rather than risk facing Anthony again, she crossed the room and sank down on the bed. Would Kian rescue her? He would if he knew where she was. If she wasn’t even in Charlotte, Anthony had gotten her past whatever roadblocks the FBI had set up. Even with every man available to hunt down Anthony, they couldn’t be everywhere and cover each little back road. If she wanted freedom, she might need to start using her head and stop provoking her cousin. Then she could get out of there.

Moving from the bed, she pulled the nightstand drawer open and searched its contents. Batteries, a flashlight, and a couple of iPod charger cords met her gaze. She shoved these items aside and reached for the facedown magazine. She cringed when the busty naked blonde came into view. Forcing herself to examine the cover, she looked for an address label but found none. Of course. If the man who owned the apartment had this magazine mailed, there would be a cover for privacy. The address label would be on that. No other papers were inside the drawer, and she sighed in defeat.

She closed the drawer and sat back on the bed, looking around. The dresser might have a clue, but after searching, her frustration grew. Only clothes occupied the neatly arranged drawers, and she cursed the idiot who owned them. Where was he anyway? Did he decide to move out just long enough for Anthony to occupy the house, or were they both staying there? If the guy was out running errands, she might soon have not one but two kidnappers to deal with, and her chances of escape lessened.

A sound drew her to the door, and she pressed her ear against it. Anthony talked to someone, and her heart rate increased thinking her fears had just been realized. She eased the door open a crack and peeked out. Her cousin paced the living room, a cell phone up to his ear.

“An hour?” he said. “Okay, yeah, the sun will have gone down, and we can move easier. I want to take care of her first. Then I’m going after Leo.”

Bile rose in Evie’s throat. Common sense told her Anthony didn’t intend to kill her, but the way he said he wanted to take care of her first terrified her. Also, if she didn’t do something quick, Anthony would kill Leo. She had no way of knowing if he had somehow gained information about the safe house.

She eased the door shut and turned the lock. Let that slow him down. Of course with his muscle, he could break the lock, but she’d have some warning at least. One last area presented itself for searching—the closet. Most people forgot something in their pants or jacket pockets. If she figured out the address of where she was, then she could think of the next step.

The first suit jacket and pants held nothing, the second and third the same. In fact, she made it all the way through the line and found not even a lint ball. Hopelessness made her sink to the floor, her limbs weak and shaking. Images of living as a virtual prisoner in a foreign country flashed through her mind, and she lay her head against the closet doorframe and shut her eyes. Maybe she could convince him to let her lead her own life. He could go alone.

Nature called, but she didn’t want to go out there just yet. She tried distracting herself, but it didn’t work. Across the room, the bedside clock indicated fifteen minutes had passed since she’d checked on Anthony. He’d said they were leaving in an hour. Now she had just forty-five minutes. Shoulders slumped, she stood and started for the door and then stopped. Slowly, she pivoted. The full laundry basket!

Her throat dried as she approached it, and she cringed when she spotted the boxers on top. “Gross.”

You have to do this, Evie. Just get it over with.
She dumped the basket on the floor and used the container to shovel the disgusting underwear out of the way. With fingertips, she picked through the other clothes and came across a T-shirt with a bulging breast pocket. Tissue. Still, this gave her hope to keep going. Three pairs of jeans presented themselves, and she picked out several button-up shirts with pockets. These few were her last hope. She searched all and dumped the contents in a pile on the floor, too scared yet to examine them closer.

Time, Evie.

With trembling fingers, she straightened a business card and at last knew where she was. Greensboro, North Carolina. With a small cheer, she discarded the rest of the junk as useless and stood up. Now that the darkness had lifted somewhat, she got the idea to check the top shelf in the closet. The shelf had been made for a giant, apparently, because she had to stretch to her toes to even feel up there. Rummaging around, she met with a box and drew it down. Nothing but shoes. She threw them on the floor and checked again. Then her fingers touched something that made her head spin with anticipation.

She drew the device to the edge of the shelf to confirm what her fingers had already identified. In the dim interior, it was hard to tell, and that brought the realization that the sun had gone down, and the light faded fast. She ran her hands over the smooth leather and opened the flap. An iPad.

Her trembling fingers stabbed the power button too hard, but there was no response. She poked it again with more control. Nothing.
No, no, no! It can’t be dead.
“What am I thinking? I have to hold it down.” She did, for what felt like years. No little apple appeared on the screen. Hysteria bubbled in her throat.

The doorknob rattled, and she dropped the iPad on the floor.

“Evie? Why is this door locked? Open it up!”

She jerked the iPad from the floor and stuffed it into the laundry basket, then jammed all the dirty clothes on top of it. She managed to open the door just as Anthony reared back as if he intended to bust it down. Evie scrubbed a hand over one eye and yawned.

“What’s going on, Anthony?”

The anger faded from his face. “Oh, you were asleep. Sorry, little cuz. I thought… Well, never mind. We’re leaving soon, so I want to make sure you’re ready. No funny stuff. I won’t have to knock you out again if you do what I say.”

He grabbed her chin and turned her head to examine the bruise and swelling. She cried out. “That’s where it hurts, you idiot.”

To her surprise, he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. You know I love you, Evie, right? We’re family.”

She was so tired of hearing that family nonsense. Just because they were family didn’t mean he had the right to rule her life and act like they couldn’t be apart. She wondered why she’d never noticed his obsessive nature. After his parents were killed, Anthony had latched onto her, and he didn’t want to ever let go, even though they were both grown. He had so much apparently—money, means, connections—but he still had to have her too. He’d never made any kind of sexual overtures, thank goodness, but his attitude was no less disgusting.

“I know, Anthony. I love you too,” she said to placate him. “Do you think I could go to the bathroom and you could make me something I can eat? I’m sorry for not eating the eggs.”

He grinned. “Sure.”

He led her down the hall to the bathroom, and she passed another, bigger bedroom. The unmade bed made her think Anthony occupied that room because he’d never made his bed as long as she’d known him, and the clothes strewn about the floor confirmed it. Something told her Anthony had been using this apartment since his escape. She used the bathroom, and he led her back to the original bedroom.

“Don’t lock the door.”

“I won’t.” She headed into the room and shut the door, praying he wouldn’t insist she leave it open, or worse, join him in the living room. He said nothing, and soon she heard his footsteps moving away. She ran over to the laundry basket and dumped everything out to reach the iPad. Another try to boot it up produced the same results, but she’d remembered the cord in the nightstand and darted over to get it. Soon the apple appeared on the screen and she waited with held breath until the device booted all the way.

The icon for the Internet produced nothing, and she almost cried trying to remember where to find WiFi settings, since she’d gotten rid of her iPad months ago in favor of a different tablet. At last she found the settings, but all the available networks showed the locked symbol meaning they were protected. Her heart sank. She sat on her heels and laid the tablet on the floor, staring at it. At her place, every device with WiFi ability included saved settings for accessing her home network. Did that mean Anthony had deleted them from the iPad? No, something told her he didn’t know the tablet was on that shelf, even though he could have reached it with ease. His concern had been in destroying the phone, and since her purse wasn’t in the room, she assumed he’d taken that as well. More likely, he’d probably unplugged the modem somewhere in the apartment.

No way would she be able to go out to the living room and look for it with Anthony out there and with so little time before they moved again. There had to be another solution. She picked up the iPad and walked over to the window. On impulse, she pressed the button to refresh the search for networks, and her breath caught in her chest when one new one appeared, unprotected. The bars were low, but she just might be able to access it.

Thank you for this chance!

She attempted to connect and waited with butterflies killing each other in her stomach. The connection went through and held, so she rushed to get over to the browser. Twice she misspelled the domain name for her email and then forgot her password. At last, she brought up a new email and typed in a short message, including the information from the business card, even though it was unlikely the location where she was now. “I’m in Greensboro, in a penthouse apartment.” She peered out the window and stretched to see a landmark. Two big chain restaurants greeted her gaze, and she smiled then added that info as well. “Come soon, please! We’re leaving in twenty-five minutes.”

She shot off the message to Kian’s work email because she had never forgotten it. He might not be able to get there in time because Charlotte to Greensboro took a good hour and a half, but maybe he could coordinate with the local police and someone could slow Anthony down.

“What are you doing with this?”

She barely heard the words before the back of Anthony’s hand found her face, and she tumbled backward. The iPad hit the wall and he stomped toward her. She backpedaled on her hands and ass toward the closet. “I was just trying to play a game, Anthony, to pass the time.”

“Oh, really? I don’t believe you.”

As he charged, she felt around behind her and found the box of shoes and threw it at his head. With clothes all around her, he must not have expected anything heavy because he didn’t duck. One shoe smacked him square in the face, and Evie jumped to her feet and ran. She hit the door, pushed off of it, and kept moving. In the hall on the far side of the living room, she found the elevator and made for it, all the while searching for something else to use as a weapon.

Through a window opening into the kitchen, she spotted a knife on the counter where Anthony had been slicing tomatoes. She grabbed it just when he tangled fingers in her hair. He jerked her backward and reached for the knife in her left hand, but she switched it to her right and swiped around behind her. The sharp point connected with his slacks and sliced straight through. His howl of pain next to her ear disoriented her, and he sent her flying forward to land flat on the floor.

“You ungrateful little—”

She flipped over to her butt and found him bent, pressing a hand to his leg. The knife had dropped from her hand and lay several feet away, covered with blood. Her stomach stirred, but she swallowed hard. Anthony limped over to it and stepped on it. His hard gaze locked with hers. She’d never known such fear. “That’s the second time I took a knife. I’m not taking anymore.” She’d seen the bandage sticking out above his shirt line on his shoulder and remembered Kian telling her he’d been stabbed as a plot to escape prison.