Chapter Four

Drew collected the paper from the waitress. "Thank you."

She tilted her head in acknowledgement, then walked away.

He unfolded the paper. What he read almost made him to burst out laughing. You could always plead a stomach ache.

The imp!

He fished out a pen from his pocket and replied, I don't think she would get the hint. Would probably offer to follow me home. 

He waved her over and handed the paper back to her. "It isn't mine." Her hand brushed his, and he almost snatched it, just to feel the press of her hand against his.

"Oh, sorry about the interruption. Enjoy your dinner." She turned and walked away. Stopping a few feet away, she read his reply. Her shoulders shook and her eyes danced with surpressed laughter.

He widened his eyes.

She threw her hands up in surrender.

Twenty long minutes later, the dinner ended. He pulled up in front of Redhead's apartment.

She slid her hand up his chest. "I had a nice time tonight."

When he agreed to Aiden setting him up on blind dates — because his friend believed that was the fastest way to find the 'lucky' lady to put a ring on — Drew had never imagined that his friend would set him up with a chit who had her head full of tabloids. Aiden was so going to hear from him.  

She fluttered her eyelashes coyly. "We should do it again."

Uh, never.

She caressed his face. "Gonna walk me to my apartment? Come in for…" Her lashes fluttered close, then lifted to reveal her intent. "A cup of coffee."

He removed her hand from his face. "You have the wrong idea, Redhead."

Her face puckered in a scowl. "You don't even remember my name, do you?"

He let his face tell the answer.

"Ugh! Men!" She unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out.

Feeling no iota of remorse, he reversed and turned on the road to his house.

Tomorrow was another day in the office. He worked his mind through his schedule. On that first day, his meeting with the employees had gone quite well. They had regarded him through wary eyes, some had even if asked what was his plan for them. As if new administration automatically equaled to new workers. He didn't blame them, though. After disappearing for three years, he just showed up out of nowhere and began ordering them around. Well, not necessarily ordering them around, just letting them know who was boss.

He could never forget the look on Uncle Rich's face that morning. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. And of course, Maxwell was his hostile self as usual. For as long as he could remember, Maxwell had hated him…for a thousand and one reasons.

Headlights flashed in his rearview mirror. A car few feet behind him was fastly gaining on him. He stepped on the brake, and pulled to the side. But instead of moving on, the car bumped into his tailgate.

Drew crashed against his wheel. Drew glanced at the rearview, but with the headlights blinding him, he couldn't make out the driver's outline. Was the driver possessed? When his car got hit again, Drew realized that the driver was not just possessed, he was out to kill him.

Spinning the wheel, he got himself back on the road and stepped on the pedal.

He might be a rich kid, but let it not be heard he didn't know how to lose a tail.

Making the first turn on his left, He turned on G****e map on his car screen and made the calculation of which route would be complex enough to lose the maniac but would get him home.

Ten minutes later, he lost the tail. Five minutes after, he arrived at his house. He plugged in his airpods. "Alexa, call Aiden."

He stormed into his room and tore his shirt off. His blood was pumping, and boy was he spitting mad.

Aiden answered on the third ring. "How was your date?"

"Don't ask me about a stupid date. I was almost killed tonight."

"What do you mean by almost killed?"

"You tell me." He flung his watch on his bedside table.

"Calm down, Drew."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" He shouted.

Silence greeted his outburst. Two minutes later, Aiden asked "are you done?"

"What are you not telling me?"

Aiden sighed. "They are unfounded…"

"What. Are. You. Not. Telling. Me?"

"I'm coming over. I'll tell you in person."

                               *****

Maddie pulled off her shoes and sighed in relief. Shoes were a torment. Tight, pinching shoes, hell itself. She heard somewhere that in the beginning man walked barefooted and naked, until a wimp of a man and greedy-eyed woman fell. If she got her hands on them, she was going to wrong their necks.

She climbed up the porch steps to the little house she had called home all her life. It was your regular bungalow with a white — now gray — picket fence. She supposed once upon a time it had been a picturesque house. Now it was a house with leaky roof, shaky pillars, and algea in strange places.

She opened the door, wincing when it creaked. She hoped to heavens that her father was asleep. She didn't bother flipping up the switch, just tiptoed into the kitchen. There she put on her phone's flashlight.

Rummaging the fridge for a sustainable dinner, she finally settled for leftover pizza slices.

Just as she bit into the second slice, her dad staggered in, and a second later bright light filled the kitchen.

"What are you doing skulking around?" His bloodshot eyes shot to the pizza in her hand. "And what do you think you're doing eating up all the food we've got?"

"I just got in, Pa. I am hungry."

His eyes narrowed. "Where have you been at? I thought your shift ends in by 1?"

"The other two waitresses didn't come. What are you doing home?"

"None of your business."

None of your business was another way of saying he had no money for booze.

"The other waitresses didn't come, you say?" His eyes moved in calculation. "That means more money for you, isn't it?" His eyes dropped to her pants' pockets. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

He banged the table. "Don't play dumb with me, girl. Didn't that brute of a boss pay you at the end of today?"

"And if he did, what is it to you?"

"What is it to me?" The cords on his neck buldged. "What is it to me?" His voice went an octave higher. "I practically put a roof over your head, and food…"

"Which I pay for." She cut in.

Her father grabbed the first thing he could reach — one of mama's china — and flung it in her direction. The plate crashed few inches behind her. "Don't you dare try play that game with me, girl." He was practically shouting the roof down. He went silent, his shoulders heaving. "You know what? Since it's your money, your food, I see no reason why you should live here. You are rich enough to take care of yourself." And with that he turned and walked out.

A minute later, she heard the door open and then a thud. What was her father up to?

Cramming the remaining pizza into her mouth, she walked out. And found her bags on the porch. Her father breezed past her, her clothes in his hands.

"What is going on here?'

He flung the clothes on top of the bags. "What does it look like?"

"You can't throw me out."

Her father smirked. "It's still my house."

"I pay the utility bills. I pay for every freaking thing in this house."

"And it's my name on the deed, not yours."

"No."

"Hand over the money and you stay. Otherwise." He pointed out the door.

So that's how it was gonna be? She glared at him. Pivoting, she walked out the door, without looking back.

The door slammed. The sound of the locks turning sounded like the omnious horn heralding the nightmare her life had just become.