The weekend was not off to a great start, and Liz had a feeling it would only get worse after forty-eight more hours confined in close quarters with her angry stepsisters.
She called the teenaged coworker who’d tricked her into the set up for Monday’s party and demanded she cover her Saturday shift at the store. At least with high schoolers you could always threaten to tell their parents as a way of getting them in line.
This particular tactic, however, didn’t work on Victoria.
“I can’t wait until your mother hears all about the week we’ve had,” Liz said when Tori had refused to do her assigned chores for the week.
“And I can’t wait to tell her how you ruined my chances at a modeling career,” the girl shot back.
Valeria either felt sorry for Liz or afraid of Tori, because she joined Liz on Saturday to watch a cheesy romantic comedy on Netflix.
“Classic,” Val said around a mouth full of popcorn as the hunky hero declared his undying love to the heroine. When the credits rolled, she turned to Liz with a far-off look in her eyes. “Is that what it’s really like?”
“What?” Liz asked as she tried to study the credits reel to find the name of the actress she couldn’t quite place.
“You know,” the girl said shyly, a tint of blush rising to her cheeks. “Falling in love.”
Liz laughed. “I’ll tell you when I know.”
“But what about your boyfriend? The one that helped find Tori yesterday?” Val watched Liz as if waiting for some fount of wisdom. When it came to this matter, though, Liz’s fountain wasn’t just dry—it had never been filled.
Still, she couldn’t let this certain misconception stand. “Not my boyfriend. For that matter, not even my friend.”
Val shrugged. “He’s cute, though.”
Liz had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying, “Yeah, if you like the creepy, lying stalker type.” Because the truth was, she had noticed Dorian’s good looks—and somehow, that only made her like him less.
Val reached for another handful of popcorn. “Do you think that guy wants to make Victoria a model?”
Liz bit her tongue again. As much as she worried they hadn’t seen the last of Mr. Warwick, she didn’t need to confide these worries in a fifteen year old. “I guess we’ll see on that one,” she answered noncommittally.
The doorbell rang, and Liz glanced over at the clock. Just a bit after eight. Not especially late for a Saturday night, but still…
“I’ll get it!” Val volunteered, skipping toward the door. And then a moment later shouted, “It’s some guy here to see you!”
Dorian.
He just needed to leave her alone already. She stomped to the foyer ready to give him a piece of her mind—no more biting her tongue that night.
But the man who waited for her on the stoop wasn’t the one she’d expected to find. Dorian would have been a welcome guest compared to…
“Mr. Warwick,” Liz said coldly. “Could you give us a moment, Val?”
Valeria left after some hesitation, but Liz had a feeling she’d stayed close to listen in from a nearby room.
Liz stepped out onto the porch and shut the front door behind her. Immediately, the cold night air gave rise to goose flesh on her arms.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the man.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at her with eyes so wet, she expected tears to fall at any moment. The broken man before her today was very changed from the one she’d met just yesterday. “Liz?”
“Yes. What do you want?” She folded her arms over her chest, not liking the way he was looking her up and down. His eyes didn’t linger on her body, but she still felt vulnerable under his gaze.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. It was the only way I could think of to…” His voice fell away and the tears rushed down his face, getting lost within his beard.
Tears or no, she refused to feel sorry for this man. He’d already proven his character, as far as she was concerned, and the jury had not decided in his favor. “I don’t care what your excuse is. Stay away from my sister.”
“Stepsister,” he corrected with a sad smile.
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t know what your game is here, but you shouldn’t be preying on young girls. If I see you anywhere near her again, I’ll call the cops.”
He shook his head, a smile edging to the corners of his mouth. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Is that a threat?” She bristled from his sudden change in demeanor.
“No, it’s just…” His smile grew even wider. “It’s not me they’d arrest.”
“You’re not making any sense.” She took a step back, and her heel caught the edge of the door frame.
Warwick closed the gap between them with one large step forward. “Don’t you remember me?”
“I’ve never seen you a day in my life.” He was too close. She was too vulnerable in this position. She needed him to leave. Now.
“No, of course you haven’t, Liz.” He spat her name out like it was poison. His sudden shift in emotions startled her. She felt far more afraid standing here with Warwick than she ever had with Dorian.
“You need to go now, please.” She tried to sound strong, but there was no mistaking the quaver in her voice.
He didn’t back down. Instead, he placed his hand on the edge of the house, mere inches away from her face. “Let me come in to talk. Let me explain.”
“I told you to leave.” She hoped the words came out braver than she felt.
When Warwick still didn’t turn to leave, she decided to be the one to do the leaving. Reaching behind her for the doorknob, she attempted to slip back inside the house.
But his strong hand grabbed the door before she could shut it behind her. “You need to talk to me. I came all this way.”
“I don’t need to do anything except call the police. Get out. Now.”
But he pried the door open and followed her into the house.
Liz searched frantically for Valeria, but she was nowhere to be found. That left her alone with this strange man that refused to take no for an answer. If she ran upstairs, he would follow her and possibly threaten her sisters.
But if she stayed here…
She whispered a prayer: “Please, God. Help me.”
Then hurled herself at the intruder with all her might.