23. Eva
CHAPTER 23
EVA
Making my way towards my room, I throw on a pair of black shorts and a tank top, my hair flowing down my face, sticking to the tears that I didn’t even know appeared.
When we first came here, Rob gave us access to the security cameras around the house. We’d never had a reason to check them—until now. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I’m going to find out who took you, Mandy. I swear it. And when I do, they’ll wish they’d never been born.
I think back to this morning, trying to piece together what happened but it’s like I stepped into another dimension. My mind blank as I ran from room to room, frantically searching. A tiny part of me hoping it was some cruel joke—that she’d leap out, giggling, from the shadows of a dark room. But that hope vanished each time I was greeted by emptiness.
Walking down the stairs, I notice a vase sitting on the table, sitting there as if everything is okay in the world. Rage fills me as I force it off the table, sending it towards the floor. I can’t help but feel satisfaction at breaking something so beautiful. The flowers scatter across the floor mixed between the shards of glass and water, as if they’re crying from being hurt. Just like I am.
My laptop is on the table in the living room, the sound of the TV still playing from this morning, echoing against the walls.
I sit down and pull the laptop onto my lap, quickly loading the footage from today’s date.
But as the folder opens, my heart sinks.
Times are missing.
The exact times she was taken.
I feel my whole world shatter around me once again, the little piece that was holding me together, was gone. I have no leads, no evidence apart from her empty bed and the open balcony door.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I feel myself spiralling out of control. The sound of laughter on the TV screams inside of my head. Picking up the controller I press ‘off’ before throwing it across the room in frustration, it bounces off the floor and a part of me laughs when I spot a little piece fall off it.
Soon, the laughter turns into tears as my body shudders with each gasping breath.
A movement catches the corner of my eye and I look up, only to be greeted by a red glow.
It’s him…
A sense of security wraps around my body at the sight of him, as if him being here will keep me safe but it doesn’t last long as guilt quickly replaces it. How can I be sat here feeling safe , when my best friend is out there?
I narrow my eyes at him, needing to know what the fuck he wants from me, why does he keep appearing randomly, why me. Pushing myself off the sofa, I round the side of it as I force myself to stand taller.
“You…” I murmer, trying to keep my voice steady. My chest rises faster as I take a step closer, needing to be close to him but also as far away as possible.
I watch him closely as I stop a few feet away from him.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, keeping eye contact with the eyes behind the mask, “Why are you here? Why do you keep showing up randomly? What the hell do you want from me?” I need the answers, I need to know why. My fists clench against my sides as I try to stop myself from running away.
He just stands in front of me, examining every inch of me beneath the mask. I want to ask him to take it off, to confirm my suspicions of who he is, but the mysterious factor of it all, excites me.
I wait patiently for him to answer me, before his low voice fills the air, “I’m not here to hurt you Eva, I don’t know what you think I’m here for, but I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”
I can’t help but scoff at his response, who the fuck does he think he is.
Matching his tone, I take a step towards him, “Make sure I’m okay? You think you can just randomly appear in my life and play hero ?” I drop my voice lower, making sure he picks up on the last word to mask the emotions flying around inside of me.
A voice inside of me keeps telling me not to trust him, that he is hiding something big from me but I ignore it, pushing it to the back of my mind.
He tries to say something else but I don’t want to hear it, I need a strong fucking coffee if I’m going to get through this day of hell.
Brushing past him I head towards the kitchen, but as I reach for my cup, my phone rings from my pocket. The second I see her name on the screen, the feeling of relief overwhelms me as I nearly collapse to the floor.
I grip the phone in my shaking heads as I press answer.
“Mandy, is that you?” I ask, my voice trembling as I try and keep the tears at bay.
I don’t think I’ve cried so much in one day but fuck, I need to hear her voice.
“Hey baby, It’s me.” She says softly.
The second her voice meets my ears, the tears flow uncontrollably.
“Where are you, are you safe, are you hurt?”
She sighs, “I’m fine Eva, I promise you I am safe. I’ll be back soon okay? I just have some things I need to finish.”
“What things? You know I can help you with anything Mandy. We’re a team.”
“I know sweetie, but I have to do this by myself, I need you to trust me. Go have some fun until I’m back okay?”
I carefully listen to her words, trying to find a hidden message like we trained, but nothing comes through apart from reassurance and calmness.
A lot of people are asking me to trust them lately.
When we first started working together, we decided to come up with our own little safe words, just in case something ever happened and we can’t ask for help. There is only one true way to know if she is telling me the truth.
Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself, “I just need to know one thing. Are the pigs flying?”
She laughs down the phone, “No Eva. The pigs are not flying.”
Wiping a tear from my cheek, I nod my head accepting her answer.
“I’m glad you’re okay Mandy, I expect a full report of whatever the fuck has happened when you get back.”
I know she’s smiling down the end of the phone from her tone, “I promise, goodbye love.”
She ends the call, once again leaving me alone but the silence doesn’t last long as the floorboard creaks in the other room, telling me that someone didn’t leave as requested.
Clearing my throat, I move over to the sink to quickly wash my face. There is no way I am going back into that room looking like this.
Once satisfied that I no longer look like I’ve had an allergic reaction, I make my way back to the living room.
Mandy’s okay. That’s all that matters.
After being convinced, yet again to trust him, I find myself in my room, getting ready. Why am I about to step outside with a masked man? I have no idea. But somewhere deep inside, a tiny, buzzing spark of excitement refuses to be ignored. It’s like the little girl in me thinks this is some sort of fairy tale adventure, albeit the most twisted version imaginable.
Pulling my pink hoodie over my head, I glance at myself in the mirror. Normally, I’d put in the effort to look polished—fix my hair, pick out a flattering outfit, maybe swipe on some lipstick. But something tells me it won’t matter to him. Maybe he won’t even notice.
I gather my hair and twist it into a messy bun, leaving a few loose strands to frame my face. It’s casual, but it feels right. The person staring back at me from the mirror looks like a life-sized Barbie doll—blonde hair, pink clothes, and all that jazz. The hoodie complements the soft blush on my cheeks and the light pink tint on my lips. My eyes are lightly smoked with a touch of mascara, and there’s a small glimmer of highlighter on the tip of my nose.
“You’re Eva fucking Marshall,” I tell myself, my voice firm, as if saying it out loud will make me believe it.
But it doesn’t. My confidence wavers, and I throw my head back, letting out a frustrated sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. Why is this so hard?
I think back to that episode of Grey’s Anatomy, the one where Amelia does the superhero pose before surgery. If it worked for her, why not me?
I shake out my hands, trying to loosen the tight knot of nerves in my stomach, then stand tall in front of the mirror. Slowly, I place my hands on my hips, lift my chin, and push my chest out. Staring at my reflection, I hold the pose, counting under my breath.
One. Two. Three…
“I’m a superhero,” I whisper, imagining myself in a scrub room beside Amelia, preparing to face whatever chaos comes next.
The nerves don’t disappear completely, but they settle just enough. I know I should stay like this for a full five minutes, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind. If I leave the masked stalker downstairs too long, he’ll probably come barrelling up the stairs to drag me down himself.
Taking one last deep breath, I glance at my reflection again. This time, there’s a flicker of determination in my eyes.
“Let’s do this.”
With a steadying exhale, I turn away from the mirror and head downstairs, each step carrying me closer to whatever this twisted fairy tale has in store.
The second I step outside, the cold air nips at my skin, chasing away the warmth of the house. My eyes immediately land on the bike parked just behind my car and the man sprawled across it like he’s posing for a magazine cover. His legs are propped up on the handlebars, fingers drumming lazily against the body of the bike.
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me at the sight. But as I approach, his fingers still, and I know he’s noticed me. My heart flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement, but his stillness makes me second-guess everything. Did I wear the wrong thing? Did he change his mind?
I hate that damn mask. If I could just see his face, I might have some clue as to what’s running through his head. Instead, I rub my thumb against my nail, trying to ease the anxiety twisting in my stomach.
When I finally reach him, we just stare at each other, waiting for someone to speak first. My voice seems to have taken a vacation, leaving me to wrestle with the awkward silence. Maybe I should’ve held that superhero pose longer because I sure don’t feel like one now.
Just when I’m about to give up and blurt something out, he sits up straight on the bike and clears his throat.
“You look… breathtaking.”
The words hit me like a soft punch to the gut, sending a flutter through my stomach. There’s something in the way he says it, like he means every syllable.
Before I can respond, he reaches into a bag and pulls out a mask. It’s similar to his, but instead of red, it’s a vibrant orange. He holds it out to me without a word.
“And who’s that for?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move. He just waits, his patience daring me to take it.
I reach out slowly, taking the mask from him. “Are you trying to say I’m breathtakingly ugly?”
The words barely leave my mouth before he’s spluttering, clearly caught off guard.
“No, not, no, no, no! That’s not what I meant at all, it’s just?—”
I lose it. Laughter bursts out of me, shaking away the nerves and tension. His flustered reaction is too good to let go.
When I finally calm down, I step closer, throwing him a playful wink. “Gotcha.”
I slip the mask over my face, feeling an unexpected surge of confidence. It’s not just a cover; it’s a transformation, like I’ve stepped into someone braver, bolder.
Stopping beside him, I mimic his earlier pose, tilting my head just enough to catch his gaze. “Now we’re matching. Cute.”
Taking my time, I climb onto the back of the bike, a first for me. My arms hesitantly slip around his waist, and I’m startled to feel his body tense at my touch. It’s subtle, but I catch it.
Good. At least he’s not as composed as he wants me to believe.
The bike rumbles to life beneath us, sending vibrations through my body.
“No helmets?” I shout over the noise.
He shakes his head. “Normally, yes. But we’re not going far. Hold on tight, buttercup!”
I tighten my grip as he pulls out of the driveway, the first thrust of speed stealing the breath from my lungs. Fear prickles at my skin, but it doesn’t last long. The wind rushing against my face, the hum of the bike—it’s exhilarating. Every sharp turn feels like we’re skirting the edge of danger, and I love it.
Before I know it, we’re pulling onto a dirt road surrounded by trees painted in fiery shades of orange and yellow. The beauty of it steals my breath again, but this time for an entirely different reason.
He stops the bike near the tree line, and I take a moment to steady myself as I climb off. My legs wobble, nearly giving out beneath me. Instinctively, I grab his shoulders, clinging to him like a lifeline.
“You’ll get used to it,” he says, laughing softly.
Once the tingling fades, I push off him, still staying close, just in case. But something catches my attention.
The sound of a bag unzipping.
I turn, my stomach dropping when I see what he’s pulling out, a length of fucking rope.
“What the hell?” I rip off my mask, making sure I’m seeing this right.
He holds the rope up, the coarse fibres dangling ominously between us.
“Please tell me you didn’t bring me here to kill me,” I manage, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound calm.
He laughs, the sound deep and unapologetic. “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”
My face must betray every ounce of horror I feel because his laughter only deepens.
“Relax,” he says, his tone lighter now. “We’re going to play a game.”
A game? I blink at him, my gaze flicking between his mask and the rope. “What kind of game needs rope? Because last I checked, jump rope isn’t exactly a two-person sport.”
He swings his leg off the bike, stepping closer. “We’re going to play a little game I like to call Hide and Seek.”
His words hang in the air, confusing me further. What kind of hide-and-seek involves rope?
“You hide,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing drawl, “and when I find you, because I will, I get to tie you up and taste you as my prize.”
I freeze, every part of me processing his words.
He takes another step forward, and instinctively, I step back, my heart thundering in my chest. His movements are deliberate, slow, like a predator sizing up its prey.
“You better run, buttercup,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with challenge.
And I do.
I turn on my heel and sprint into the trees, my breath ragged as adrenaline surges through me. Behind me, his low laugh echoes through the crisp autumn air, followed by his voice, smooth and dark.
“Ready or not, here I come!”