End of the Line

Chapter 5 Lauren

Chapter Five

Lauren

  I gave a small shiver as I felt the bed move, my heat source leaving my side. I turned over to see Ed pulling Aaron out of the room. I tried to sit up and wished I could follow them to hear what they were talking about. I wanted to be back in the decision making rather than being helpless, waiting for others to make my choices for me. That was when I heard a door open then close quickly. I began to worry since the last time there was rushing involved meant that someone was after Aaron, that night of the gun shot came back in whirl of a memory.

“Ed!” I cried out softly.

Ed came into the room looking frazzled.

“What’s going on?” I asked feeling my whole body being taken over by my terrified nerves, even though deep down I already knew what was wrong.

“The men are in just a short distance from the door. I don’t know why they returned here.”

“What men?”

Please, intuition be wrong!

“Mr. Manson’s men!”

“Oh god, Aaron!” I yelped, wondering where he was and what was going to happen to us.

“I already sent him on his way and he’ll be back later on when the coast is clear. I hid the others in the attic. They’re going to want to come into the house and I can’t hide you because of your condition. If they ask, you are my daughter Tammy, okay?”

I just nodded my head looking into his dark eyes as there was a knock on the door. He left the room then came back with a few men. In front was a man that I instantly recognized just like Aaron said I would. Here was a man who wasn't fat, but was a solid individual. He was about six feet tall with scowling gray eyes that seemed to be interrogating you the second upon making eye contact. On most of his face, he had a short dark brown beard. His hair was the same color was and was cut rather short.

“Sorry Tammy, but these men just wanted to know if we saw a boy here,” Ed spoke, standing aside for the cluster to come into my room.

“A boy, in my room? You know I don’t do that, Daddy.”

I tried to look at Ed, but Mr. Manson wouldn’t let go of my eyes. He was holding my eyes hostage. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, fierce, locking onto me.

“You haven’t seen a boy around seventeen and this height,” Mr. Manson asked using his hands to about Aaron’s height. “He has blond hair and blue eyes with a smart mouth on him.”

“No I haven’t. It’s just been Dad and I here. I’ve been sick, unable to even get out of bed.” Well some of what I said was true.

“Is that why we didn’t see you last time we were here?”

“I’ve been really sick and I’m just starting to get better. Dad is so over protective and doesn’t want the outside germs to make me worse.”

I hope I sounded sincere and wasn’t stumbling over my words. Trying to hold back the urge to chew on my lip, I swallowed back my fretfulness.

Mr. Manson just looked at me as if trying to figure out whether or not what I was saying was true or not. That was when there was a loud noise from outside, causing me to jump a little in my bed.

“Manson, I’m over here!” a shout came from outside the window.

My eyes went wide; then I quickly caught myself and held back the apprehension that I knew must have shown so he wouldn’t think that I knew whoever made that noise. He could not find out that I needed the source of the shouting to stay safe.