I wait a few more minutes and close my eyes to tune my hearing. It’s silent and I’m alone as far as I can tell.
With a deep calming breath, I slide out from under the stairs. Crouched low, I wait another few seconds. Still quiet. Starting slow at first, I creep out into the courtyard, making sure to stay to the sidewall and the camouflage of the shadows.
Once I make it through to the rear lot behind the building, I glue my back to the wall before turning the corner. I hope the pay phone I think I remember is real.
Please be there; please be there.
A dog barks. Panic fuels my legs as I beat feet to the phone. Yes! I rip the phone from its cradle and press it to my ear. Think, Eve, think! With a shaky finger, I dial the one, eight-hundred, and now I have to spell collect.
My finger slips. Shit! I hit the lever, look over my shoulder, and try again. Concentrating as if my life depends on it, I dial the damn number and follow the prompts.
“Please hold while we attempt to contact . . .”
I spin around to keep a visual on my surroundings, and wait. My breath quickens, and even though there’s not a soul walking the streets, I’m terrified he’ll jump out at any minute.
I wait, listening to dead air. Come on, Rave. Pick up, pick up. My heart hammers in my chest, and my eyes dart around the open space.
If that jerk was around, he’d nab me no problem. Out here, I’m a sitting duck.
“Your call is connected.” There’s a small click.
“Eve, oh my gosh, Eve? Where are you?” Raven’s voice is deep with sleep and heavy with concern.
“A man came to my house. My dad sent . . .” I can’t breathe. The words rush to the surface and none of them make sense.
“Where the fuck are you?” Jonah’s voice comes roaring through the phone.
“Oh God, Jonah, I’m hiding. I’m . . .” Why can’t I breathe?
“Eve. Calm down. Listen to me.”
“Mm.”
“Are you home?”
“No. I ran.”
“Close to home?”
I nod a couple times before I realize he can’t see me. “Yes, the apartments.”
“Okay, listen. You hear that?”
There’s a grumble in the background. An engine?
“That’s the truck. I’m on my way to you.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Yeah.”
“Breathe, Eve. I’m on my way. You stay on the phone with me until I get there. Won’t be long.”
“Yeah, but what if he finds me out here.”
“Fuckin’ shit.” I hear the sound of his hand gripping the phone tight. “Who the hell’s after you?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Dude just showed up. I ran, hid, didn’t know who else to call.”
“You did the right thing. Just hang tight.”
“Okay, but hurry.”
“I’m three minutes away. You good?”
“I’m scared.”
“Yeah, I get that. Stay on the phone.”
“Okay, I’m . . . okay.”
“Two minutes, babe.”
I don’t answer verbally, but the swell of tears I’ve been holding back begins to well. He’s almost here. I’ll be okay. I blow out a long breath of relief when I see his lifted black truck squeal around the corner.
I run out into the middle of the street to flag him down, not even bothering to hang up the pay phone.
Thirty
Eve
“Here, this should help.” Raven hands me a steaming cup of herbal tea.
I haven’t been able to stop shaking. The tremors at the pay phone only got worse once I was safe in Jonah’s truck. It’s as if my body was waiting until I was safe before it hit me hard with the trauma shakes.
“Thank you.” I wrap my trembling hands around the warm porcelain mug.
Jonah enters with the phone to his ear. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that. We’ll be by to move her out tomorrow. No, that’s it. Thanks, Dave.”
I grip my tea to keep my hands steady. “What did he say?”
Jonah called his police connection on the way home after I told him what happened. The on-duty cops swung by my place and reported to Dave what they found, and Jonah just received that call.
He leans his hip against the island counter and pulls his robed wife into his arms. “Dude tossed the shit out of your place.”
“Dammit.” I drop my chin and try to keep my emotions in check. “I know he didn’t find any money. Did they say if anything was missing?”
“Eve, the guy cleaned you out: jewelry, TV, your phone. Safe to assume anything you had of value is gone.”
Raven slams her palms to the countertop. “That motherfucker!”
My eyes dart to her. She never used to curse until she married Jonah, and now she does on occasion, but I’ve never heard her drop an em-effer.
“It’s okay, Rave. You know nothing I have is worth jack crap. Whatever he made out with will probably buy him a couple twenties at the pawn shop.”
“Hate to state the obvious, but you need to move out. Get a PO Box for your mail, and go unlisted for a while. Probably wouldn’t hurt to get a new phone number too.” Jonah rubs his wife’s back. “You know, when you get a new phone.”