Tabula Rasa(51)

There was no sign of him downstairs, either. I made my way back to the main part of the first floor. He wasn’t in the kitchen. I glanced at the front door to find the security system armed, the red light blinking. I ran to the door and peered out the window to find the tail lights of Shannon’s shiny black Cadillac disappearing around the corner.

I heard the faint sound of a cell phone ringing on the second floor. I took the stairs two at a time to get to Shannon’s room. The phone rang from a pair of pants draped over the dresser. I dug through the pockets and found the red phone—the one he used with his family—shrieking incessantly at me.

“Shannon?” I said, hoping it was him. He hadn’t even said goodbye. Why hadn’t he said goodbye? Because you don’t matter. Nobody matters to him. Look at his non-response to what happened to you?

“It’s Millie, dear. Is Shannon around?”

I pulled back and just gaped at the phone for a moment. Was she serious? Why would I say Shannon into the phone if he was with me?

“I’m sorry, he just stepped out,” I said, biting back all the sarcasm that wanted to come spilling from my mouth. None of this was Millie’s fault.

“Oh, Elodie, I wanted to tell you... those green beans I sent home with you, you want to add a little bit of sugar and a little bit of olive oil to them and then cover them and let them boil almost down to no liquid. Leave a little bit in there, but not much. It’ll make the flavors kick more, like Shannon likes them.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Do you want me to have him call you?”

“Yes, thank you, dear.”

I disconnected the call and sat on the edge of the bed wondering if I should do what I really wanted to do next. I knew the number for Shannon’s most recent burner phone. I’d been nosy and snooping, and he’d left it out. I don’t even know why I searched the phone’s information and wrote down the number. I probably would have never done it before I was reasonably confident he wouldn’t kill me. It was telling that instead of using the burner to call for help, I used it to find out what number I could reach him at. Of course, Shannon had been in the house at the time, and I’d only had a few moments to scribble down the number—not long enough to communicate with the police even if I’d wanted to.

Despite my better judgment, I dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” I said.

“Are you calling from my other phone?”

“Yes.”

“How do you have this number? More importantly, why are you calling this number? Do you realize I now have to get rid of that phone, too, and get a whole new permanent number for my mother? She’ll ask endless questions about why I have a new number. I’m going to have to ditch this phone and get another one. When we hang up, take the battery out of that one.”

“Your mother wants you to call her,” I blurted.

“Of course she does. Was that all you wanted?”

“A-are you mad at me?” I felt like an insecure schoolgirl asking that, but what else was I supposed to think? He’d gone so cold and distant. I tried to shake that thought out of my head. He’d been cold and distant from day one. This was all just my own weirdness about us sleeping together and then him leaving like this without saying goodbye. It was hard to know how to behave when a sexual relationship was new, even under the best circumstances. And I had no idea how the script worked with Shannon. Maybe he was already regretting moving things to this level. Maybe he thought I was going to be nothing but drama. He was probably already rethinking whatever spark of feeling he’d thought I’d inspired in him.

Maybe now that he knew what had happened with my Professor, he saw me as tainted somehow and didn’t want me anymore. That last thought felt too true, and I quickly pushed it away. I hadn’t sensed any of the ugly weight in Shannon’s words compared to Professor Stevens’, but maybe I was only hearing and seeing what I wanted and needed to hear and see to survive.

“Why would I be mad?” He sounded genuinely confused. “Did you do something for me to be mad about? Besides calling from that phone?”

“No. Why did you leave so fast? You locked me in. What if I need something?”

He’d always locked me in, but it was never for very long. Not like this.

“I told you. I have a job. I’m running late. I’ll talk to you when I get home in a few days. Remove the battery and do not use that phone again.”

“Why am I removing the battery?”

“So no one can triangulate the signal.”

“But why would they do that? Who would do that? Is somebody after you?”

“No. Not that I know of. These are just basic precautions. This is a normal part of my world you need to get used to.”

“But...”

Shannon sighed. “Elodie, just do what I say.”

“But what if I need something?”

“For God’s sake, the house is stocked with everything you need to survive without me for a few days. You spent months in an abandoned theme park with one other psycho and no access to the civilized world, and you survived that just fine.”

Rationally, I knew he was right. I was actually sitting there panicking, worrying some unforeseen emergency would happen and how would I get medical care? I’d lived for months in a world where hospitals weren’t even an option, and yet this was my first worry locked up in Shannon’s clean, well-stocked house? I had a quick flash, wondering what Trevor would have done with me if I’d had a medical emergency. Probably let me die, but then I remembered he was a doctor and likely could have handled most things.