He was suicidal when i met him, so I can't really blame myself for much. Running into him was an accident; it was merely by chance. But honest to God, it was the best chance I've ever gotten.


5. ~5~

There was a long gravel driveway leading up to a large brick house. The brick looked worn and dirty, some type of vine growing up one side. The shutters' paint has long since lost it's shine, and the lawn, practically forgotten. Other than that, the mansion seemed almost beautiful. Sad, but beautiful.

"Do you live in this place by yourself?" I gape, shutting the car door.

"Huh? Nah, some other guys stay here, too. We all pay rent for our separate rooms."

"Oh," I bite down on my lip nervously.

"Why?" he turned to look at me.

"Well, uh, where am I going to stay?"

He stopped midstride, a look of fear crossing his face. It was gone in a split second.

"Well, I guess you're staying with me."




When we enter the house, all is quiet.

"I thought you said--"

"They usually don't come back until late at night," he walks down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Come back from where?"

"What did I say about the questions?" he sounded almost angry.

"That I ask too many," I replied, cringing at his tone. I guess old habits die hard.

"Exactly. One of these days that will get you in serious trouble," he opens the refrigerator door. He takes out a beer, popping the cap with his thumb. "All I'm trying to say is, you need to learn to keep your curiosity under control."

I nod in agreement.

"But, uh, one more question."

He sighs heavily. "What?"

"Uhm, could I possibly... take a shower? I've been walking for two days and if it isn't too much trouble, I mean, if it is I understand but--"

"It's fine," he stops my rambling, for which I am thankful.

"Ah, thank you so much," I smile. Much to my surprise, he reciprocates it.

"The bathroom is upstairs. Second door on the right."

I nod, scurrying away.




I think over today's events as I scrub my scalp with men's shampoo.


Why did he--Evan help me? Why didn't he turn me in? What made him change his mind?


I pout, realizing that I'm once again asking questions. Evan was right, I do ask too many. Sighing, I turn the faucet off and wrap myself in a fluffy red towel.


Uh oh. Now what?


I don't have any extra clothes. I don't even know what room I'm going to be in. Because of this, I very reluctantly step out into the hall.

"E...Evan?" I call out to him.

"Evan?" I try again, this time louder.

"Whoa!" a voice exclaims from behind. I turn around, gripping my towel tighter. A dark-skinned man is staring at me eagerly.

"You're not Evan," my legs are starting to shake.

"Indeed, I'm not," he smiles wickedly whilst looking me over, "Sure wish I was though." He takes a couple steps in my direction.


"Shae. I set you out some...clothes." Evan looks at the man, then at me. The glare on his face has me cowering.

"Shae. Get in here. Now," he says through gritted teeth. I shuffle into the room quickly, wary of the dark man's gaze. Evan's posture is rigid as he slams the door.


This isn't going to be good...

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