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Yestertnite―Motoboy

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☩ Journal Entry

A HAND GRIPPED DIANA'S fiercely in the dark and she drew a sharp breath in surprise, they had hurried from their room in the dead of night, smooth dusty wood beneath their feet as they padded off down the narrow hall in a rush, making their silent escape.

"Don't worry," Came a hushed voice from ahead. "He won't catch us, but you have to keep up, even if it's just a little," Emma's voice came like birdsong in the blackness. It was cold and stark, lonely, where were their parents?

Diana and Emma, linked like chains, interlocked their fingers, and felt with their free hands: chipped wallpaper, cracked doorframes, sharp table edges. Emma felt a tug of delight.

"Good, found it. He won't find us in here," Diana said, tugging Emma down to the floor where she dug her fingers into a grate under the table.

No sound too slight to be heard, the girls jumped as the wind threw the shudders against the window.

Emma helped Diana pry the grate off and waited for her to climb in, dread ate the lining of her stomach, anticipation made her head swim as they both turned to the dark hall where heavy footsteps were coming from.

Emma climbed in beside Diana and replaced the grate, her heart in her throat, Diana felt for Emma in the dark and pulled her sisters' head under her chin. They watched in silence as a pair of man's boots walked quietly, purposefully up to the table and stopped.

The girls clung to each other, hair tangled between their quivering fingers, they watched the boots in the dim light that the solitary window cast.

Don't get too close, please, don't come any closer. The girls held their breath shakily, after a beat, the boots turned down the hall and continued out of view. Something is coming. I can feel it.

Morning

My name is lost in a sea of broken waves, do I know who I am? Long, deep breaths streamed in and out, warm air smoothly slid down her lip, she consciously made a point to remain completely still on the mattress so as not to arouse suspicion.

Where is this? When in time am I, how long have I been unconscious? She felt like she had been in some sort of coma or drugged. Was that the reason she had seen someone in the yard that night or had she merely been dreaming? She mentally forced her conscious to the present, was he real? Was she imagining it‒taunting herself?

Her fingertips gently grazed against her throat protectively, the vivid dream dripped into her memory like acid rain, eroding any semblance of calm that waking from the nightmare had given her. It could not have been a dream; it had felt all too real. Was she going mad like her mother?

The lit fireplace gave the dull ceiling a wash of colour, its crackles delicately hanging in the air; everything seemed to ebb out of focus. Her arm itched where the IV line was.

Reality has a funny little way of announcing itself, and all the things that she had done along with the lies came, crashing back into her subconscious.

It was at that moment that she knew she would not be sleeping again. Cool, stiff air circulated the room, the windows must have been fastened shut for some time.

With a sharp inhale, she realised that she could feel her bare skin flush against sheets. With a sudden gesture, Diana pushed herself up, blankets crinkling softly, feeling the mattress give a little under her with the weight and she frowned feebly.

What seemed like miles away, at the edge of the bed, was an Abercrombie & Fitch 1989 blue hoodie, the colour reminded Diana of a dark cornflower blue.

She leaned over and placed her left hand over her screaming ribs, her half-naked body rubbing against the blankets as she fingered the hoodie her way.

Now she remembers the stupid things she did to herself, she rebuked herself as she carefully thrust her arms into the hoodie. Unlike life, the hoodie felt warm and inviting. She pulled her hair free from the rim, vaguely-somehow, she felt sure there were eyes on her.

Adjusting herself, Diana felt herself flush slowly, her eyes refocused on the silhouette directly in front of her sitting on the window seat.

A tall man sat with his back against the window, he held a book but had lowered it the minute she had stirred, he stayed as motionless as the drapes beside him-so still, in fact, that Diana could have mistaken him for a wax dummy.

Her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and she could make out every detail of his face: dark curly hair that framed the front, high cheekbones and a broad jaw, fantasy-inducing lips.

After a dull moment, Diana inwardly scoffed at her thoughts. Since when had she, Diana Ward, ever feared anything? Diana opened her mouth as if to say something, then stopped as he again lowered the book to look at her.

The heat started to rise to her cheeks; he was looking at her as if he were undressing her with his eyes, a hint of distaste in his indiscernible eyes. Diana's ears were straining themselves for the subtle voices in the hall; she straightened and took a breath.

"What year is it?" Diana croaked, opening, and closing her mouth, rotating her jaw around as if something were wrong. The stranger shifted his eyes to the ceiling and muttered something under his breath, looking indignantly through full eyelashes.

"You have got to be kidding me," Erik droned out, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Boxing Day," He said in a defeated voice, after a moment he added, "Don't move it too much, Crazy."

With growing horror, Diana realised how lame she must have sounded and, again, rebuked herself. How could she be so stupid, of course, the year had not ended-which could only mean that she had been missing since Tuesday night.

Now, if she could only glean where she had left her belongings. Diana had been staring blankly at him while she lost herself in thought, her cheeks pinked as he lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Do you find me that fascinating?" Erik managed with a smug grin, his throat felt dry and cobwebbed.

"You called me crazy, so you recognise me?" Diana retorted, losing interest as she swivelled her head and looked around the room, my clothes must be here somewhere. The hour was hard to pinpoint, the blackout drapes had been drawn, she looked by firelight but to no avail.

"From which street corner?" Erik asked flatly, he rubbed his forehead, this was not getting them anywhere. "You nearly bit through your cheek last night. Just take it easy, we can see how you are feeling in the morning."

Erik kept his eyes on the girl as she knit her eyebrows together and closed her mouth, clenching her teeth. To his surprise, she spoke. He had seen her injuries from the alleged incident in the alley, or at least that was what she had mumbled when his father had found her: fresh were bruises around her neck, a small gash on the back of her head, as if someone had hit her with a rock or rammed her against a wall.

Resentment pulsed in his ears, irked that Will had blackmailed him into sitting with the human-sized doll for the second time.

"I am not staying that long," Her voice was husky, dripping with sleep, the words came out with a burn, whatever she had done had left it feeling bruised. The room wobbled, she forced her mind to stay present, he spoke like a trained professional, like-her mind trailed off and she sank her teeth savagely into her lower lip.

"Hey, don't do that. Did you hear me?" He asked, concern lacing his voice, she stiffened as he took a step towards the bed. In the analeptic dim light, their eyes met each other for a moment, and for once in a long time, she felt a non-physical touch of safe, human contact. Nothing deranged or forced.

Vibrantly green, that light touch of mint, but still so full of colour-it was all she could see. Erik's intense gaze held her hostage-cold and impassive yet searching for something. It was enough to make Diana's cheeks colour.

Erik cleared his throat and resurfaced, he felt like he had gone diving without a wet suit and stayed under too long. He narrowed his eyes on her chest, then flicked her a dirty look.

"What?" Diana questioned in a hostile voice, eyes wide. He arched an eyebrow, firelight dancing in his electric green eyes. "That is my hoodie, I don't believe I placed it there for your use," He said in a dry voice, her features relaxed, and she brought the cuff of the hoodie to her face and breathed in the alluring cinnamonesque scent, lost in it.

Erik observed her as if she were the only thing in the room. Impulsively, Diana supposed she liked it. Diana got the sense that this man's dark and overwhelming sensuality would get her into trouble if she were not cautious; his eyes on her face was more than she could stand.

Was it chemical? Rooted in her core, Diana's body ached for him, and she did not think she could fight the feeling. Nerves took over, and he had been mindlessly studying her body-scrutinising it.

Diana's inner goddess fought her sluttier-looser half and won, but she remembered herself. Who was she was to this unknown person? A threat, a time bomb-bloodthirst waiting to happen. I cannot allow myself to get attached, she mumbled to herself. The rim still pressed against her cupid's bow.

"It's sexy," Diana said in a soft clear voice. The scent, I mean. Diana looked up, and he gave a crooked, rueful smile, she had blurted it out without a thought and instantly regretted it.

"It's sexier on you," He replied with a magnetic grin. Erik pictured his hands on her hourglass figure; it made his heartbeat like it had not in a long time. This girl had Erik's attention, and she had this unreserved confidence that he liked-hypnotised her fingers gripped the blue-collar of his hoodie and held it away from her slender neck.

"What?" She looked at him incredulously, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Stop it, Diana. I'm so creepy-what is wrong with me? I must get out of here. I need to leave before he finds m- Diana's thoughts were cut off by the Armani model trainee's curious, level gaze. The room suddenly felt too spacious, and the bed had gotten cold and enormous, the sudden want to have him close itching at the corners of her mind.

Seattle weather did what it does best-raining poured outside of the partially open window, wind beating against the glass like a banshee. Diana inadvertently jumped, reminded of the reason she hated thunder so much and resolved herself to think of something else. She sniffed, counting until the next boom of thunder rattled the window.

"You Americans and your storms," Erik muttered, turning to shut the window. There was an undeniable connection, with every breath Erik wanted to share it with her, but he knew Will had just driven up. When it came to her, Erik knew he was in trouble.

He turned from the window, his eyes flick down to his hoodie and back to her eyes. Diana felt almost violated as he stared through the hoodie and at her bruised ribs, she instinctively crossed her arms over her ribcage. Erik suppressed a chuckle.

Remembering her earlier train of thought, Diana grabbed a fist full of the soft white blanket and painstakingly slowly drew it back just enough to swing her legs over the plushy mattress and used her arms to help her stand.

Oblivious to him, she gulped as he took two long steps and wrapped his hands under her thighs and slid her back on the mattress. She tiredly protested, but he was too strong.

"You need rest," Erik's expression was stern as he took her striking grey eyes into account, up close he could see that there was not a hint of any other colour in them. When he touched her a moment ago, he could not help but notice how tender and soft her skin was.

An image flashed in her mind and she remembered why she should be afraid of everything and anyone. She did not have to think hard to remember someone strangling her. The hands squeezed until every bit of the room faded.

"There was a man, a few nights ago, outside on the lawn. I saw him, from the window," He looked even more confused, but let her go on. "And last night, he came into my room and held me down on the bed. He used rope, or something."

Erik crossed his arms, thoughtful and concerned. It always takes the pretty ones, he thought to himself idly. "Can you check? I need to know if it was just a dream," Anxious and desperate, she lowered her eyes to the floor-an appropriate place for a young woman to look, he realised grimly.

"Do you see anything around my neck? Am I going crazy?" Despite her hysterics, he folded down the collar of the hoodie and examined her neck.

"No one could have gotten in; this house is secure. You will be safe here. Let's have a look then," She relaxed against his touch and let her breath go. There were black and blue markings around her neck that had not been there before, and he bit the inside of his cheek, perplexed.

"Can you tell me your name?" The woman paused as if she was unsure how to respond as if she were unsure of her own identity. "My father said you mentioned a Diana, Diana King something. Is that your name?"

Through the tangle of her dull red hair, he could make out her firm mouth and oceanic grey eyes as they searched for the answer, any answer to give him. "I-I, it's Diana Ward," She said it with as much bravado as she could muster.

"I am worried about these markings. I don't know how someone could have gotten in. I'll check on you tonight," He promptly grabbed his book, swept his hand through his messy hair and left.

Evening

Diana unhooked the IV line from her arm, she spent the day wondering if it was a sunset or a sunrise outside the closed drapes, sneaking glances through the ajar door every few seconds. Free, she wandered with a purpose through the large Edwardian house unnoticed.

Something is off in this house, Diana thought as she tiptoed down the steps and unlatched the front door, cautiously glancing over her shoulder.

Erik turned to Will and snatched the blanket he was holding, he wrapped it around himself and complained about the cold damp air. "You're welcome, my lady," Will bowed at Erik, sending him an unimpressed glare.

Erik stared impassively back and leaned against a kitchen counter, snapping at his younger brother, something moving on the front deck caught his attention. Erik grinned and excused himself, following the strange woman outside.

"Do you live around here? Boyfriend troubles? Fugitive?" Erik asked as he quietly sneaked up behind Diana, she did not move, she continued staring at his neighbors; a father and his two young daughters. "No," She said at length. He groaned. "Let's not complicate things," He said sarcastically.

"I am good by myself, thanks," Diana said in a disinterested voice, glancing him over, her sultry attitude towards him was driving him insane.

The wind had tousled the leaves, the rain had washed away the snow, leaving the spacious neighborhood streets a sopping mess. Diana could not fathom why everything had gone so wrong the past week; she could not think why she was being punished.

Erik nodded and turned to pace the length of the deck looking over his shoulder at her when she questioned what he was doing. "You said you liked your own company, so I will be over here," He said sardonically.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text. There was a rash of burglaries in this area recently. Better be smart, he thought. He turned back to face Diana and, after a moment of internal debate, enigmatically draped his blanket across her shoulders. He cast a hunting look around; the view offered more to his range of vision as he towered over her.

The nerve of this guy, Diana thought wryly, glaring into the distance demurely. "Boyfriend?" Erik tried again in a calm voice, pointing to his eye as Diana craned her neck back to look at him, barely sign of life in her eyes.

Once the question registered, Diana gave her head a shake and said nothing. Erik sighed, could it be a mental family member? A cult? "You have no idea how you got here; do you?" Erik said in a sympathetic voice. Nothing.

"Do you fugue out often?" Erik asked, hitting a raw nerve when Diana's head snapped up in his direction. His eyebrows piqued apathetically, and there was a mental institute a few hours from their house. "I am fine by myself, really, Laurence," Diana said, she took a subtle step back as they heard approaching footsteps.

Tom Bonocore crunched his path through the thinning snow, in the low light Diana could barely distinguish handsome features. And a police uniform. Had he kept her there talking on purpose?

"Evening, Lore," The officer said in a less than chipper voice, addressing Erik. Diana's quizzical eyes followed his eyes to Erik, Diana glared. "I checked the perimeters; all exits locked, the alarm is still active. I saw absolutely no sign of forced entry," He concluded.

Erik blinked briefly and squared his chest, nodding a few times before extending his hand. "Thanks, Tom. You never know these days," Erik said, not lifting a finger to introduce them. Tom smiled, as he let go of Erik's hand, his eyes shifted over in Diana's direction.

"Hullo, who might you be? Ah, boyfriend troubles?" Tom asked, unable to stop himself from being the friendly type. Diana shook her head, cut off before she could disagree.

"You know," Tom said, holding up a gloved finger. "You ought to report that. We can do it right here if ya like," He said with a reassuring grin.

Diana looked between the two men, caught off guard, and forced a smile. "No, it was a misunderstanding. There is no one following me. I would not care to press charges," She said with finality, giving them the sense to leave it alone. For goodness' sake, please leave it alone, she prayed silently.

Tom gave Erik a warry look and excused himself. "A simple thank you would have sufficed. The man did come all the way here to arrest your mental boyfriend," Erik started in on her, Diana held her hands up in defence.

"I did not ask him to. And he is not my boyfriend, I-" Diana bit down on the tip of her tongue, regretting the words. "So now you admit there is someone. Which is it? Yesterday there was, today there is not," Erik said in an apathetic voice.

"Look, this is all a misunderstanding," Diana said with resolve, Erik could not let her walk away, not without knowing who attacked her. He stepped in front of her with crossed arms until she caved.

"I understand. You don't trust me. You don't need to say it," Diana said, making direct eye contact as she spoke. She kept a keen eye trained on Erik's tense neck, aware of the ticking time. "I know you think that these are self-inflicted," She pulled the shirt collar from her neck and gave him an exasperated look.

Erik returned a dreamy look. So, she was lucid, he smirked to himself. Still, he crossed his arms over his chest expectantly. "You wouldn't have believed me if I told you the truth," Diana barely got out before he interrupted her.

"You still haven't," He put in smugly. Diana rolled her eyes. "But I'm asking you to-which is something I don't do. Just let me contact my people and get out of here; it's for the best that you and your family never see me again," She concluded, her head was cloudy with indistinct thoughts.

All he offered her was a curious expression, Diana huffed, then regretted the huff as her lungs and ribs burned and screamed, they

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