Chapter Two, Part One - The Devil You Know

                                    

                                          
We called the police.

                          
In the middle of the hall, I twisted my heels on the linoleum flooring as I answered the detective's questions. A handful of officers ducked in and out of the apartment; one of them had a camera, snapping pictures while nosy neighbors popped their heads into the hallway. If half-naked pictures of me wound up on the Internet, I knew who to blame.
                          
Right before he dragged me outside to call 911, Tyler had thoughtfully jammed his hoodie over my head. It barely covered the tops of my thighs but I was more concerned about the break-in. Why would  a person do this? Tyler rubbed my shoulders as I shook my head at the next question - and lied.
                          
"No, Detective. I don't have enemies. I have no idea who would do something like this."
                          
Unfortunately, there were no cameras in the building. And if my shut-in neighbors knew anything about the break-in, law enforcement would be the last to know. No other evidence was recovered, but the police bagged the gifts and dusted the apartment for finger prints. When the detective told us the intruder was most likely in the apartment while we were at the party, and that we were lucky he wasn't waiting when we got home, the anxiety kicked in and I puked--right on the dusty roots of the fake potted plant guarding the elevator.
                          
The police left after an extra-thorough search at Tyler's request. Walking back into the apartment felt like walking back to my tomb. Changing the locks wouldn't cut it, I needed to change zip codes. I was scared of going to New York because change frightened me, but the fear of staying was a thousand times worse. I couldn't stay another day in that hellish apartment.
                          
Safe in my bedroom and feeling anything but, Tyler helped me speed-pack an overnight bag, my over-flowing suitcase splayed on the bed. 
                          
"Son-of-a-bitch." Across the room, he poked through the top drawer of my bureau. "Bastard took all the Victoria's Secret."
                          
Along with perfume and my best fucking jewelry.
                          
"At this point I don't even care. I just wanna get the hell out of here." I dumped another armful of clothes on the pile. "I lied to the cops, I do have enemies--but that was high school. Things are different now. Who would do this?"
                          
"A sick, twisted fuck who needs therapy." Tyler crossed the bedroom, closing the door and locking it. "But there are plenty of other things to be afraid of. Remember when you were scared of the dark? You'd panic, thought you'd never come out again."
                          
Tyler cut the lights.
                          
Every part of me froze. I knew he was just trying to torture me, but it worked. Some angels have horns for halos.
                          
"You're an asshole," I whispered.
                          
"So I've heard," he whispered back.
                          
"You've never been locked in a trunk, Tyler! You don't know what that's like."   
                          
"Actually, I do. I saw it in your face--every day for months. But you're not scared anymore. Why?"
                          
"I-I dunno." Swallowing, I looked up into the shadow's face, and saw only darkness. "I guess it's because I finally realized I'm not alone."
                          
"Exactly. You're not alone, Ali." Tyler ran the back of his finger down my arm. "You're safe with me."
                          
Was I though?
                          
I pulled Tyler's shirt over his head, casting it away. Though I couldn't see his full-sleeves and the colorful designs on his chest, I knew each tattoo, and the olive skin beneath, by heart. Sometimes, in the dark, I'd recite them by feel.
                          
"Did you mean it, Tyler? When you asked me to live with you?"
                          
"You're not the only one who hates being alone. But yeah, I meant it. I hope that creep enjoys the mementos he took, cuz he'll never have the real thing. We should hire more security when we get to New York."
                          
"Or, we could skip that and just live together."
                          
"You're serious?"
                          
Nodding, my hand on his cheek, I smiled when I felt him smile. "I don't need an escort, I'd prefer you."
                          
Tyler whooped. He lifted me off my feet, spinning me around before sweeping my suitcase off the bed. My misfortune was his good luck. That spoiled prince always got what he wanted in the end.
                          
I followed Tyler up the mattress, kissing him into the pillows. My hands dropped to the sexy strip of fabric that peeked above his jeans - the road to Wonderland - and dived below.
                          
Tyler hissed between his teeth. "Fuck." 
                          
"We're about to."
                          
He sat up, peeling his sweater from my body. "I never asked what you thought about. When you were alone in the trunk?" When I turned my face away, he took my chin, guiding it back to his. "It's alright."
                          
"I thought about everything. But mostly how much I didn't wanna die."
                          
Once upon a time a bad man owed some very bad men a lot of money--and to settle that debt they came looking for me. I escaped. It only cost me my future. The money I had saved for the Boston Conservatory wiped the slate clean - and left me in a hole I couldn't climb out of. But one thing being kidnapped by the Russian Mafia taught me was honor. Asking my rich boyfriend for financial support would never, ever be an option.  
                          
"Do you think those men came back for you, Aaliyah?"
                          
"No. When I paid the money, Aleksandr swore that was the end. I believe him. That's why I didn't tell the police. Besides, he wasn't like the person who broke in. Alek was... decent. Whoever did this was something completely opposite."
                          
 Settled in his lap, Tyler's warm hands gripped my waist, his face tilted up towards mine. 
                          
"I'm sorry I didn't protect you, Ali. That won't happen again. Ever."
                          
"It wasn't your fault."
                          
"Pete's my dad, that makes it my fault. I don't wanna be like him. But if it's the only way to keep you safe, I will."
                          
"You're not like your dad," I whispered, his face between my hands, his heart and soul mine to mold. "You're good." Tyler didn't always believe it, and he didn't always give me a reason to.
                          
I loved him anyway.
                          
"And New York will be good for us. And you will be good for me."I took his face and kissed him.
                          
"We'll leave Monday."
                          
"Okay. But there's someone else I have to say good-bye to."
                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
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