True Evil_A fast-paced psychological thriller that will keep you hooked Page 4

  I pulled myself out of my head and faced Sophie. She was staring at me and I realized that I had accidentally bumped into her. What the hell was she doing here? Was she following me? It was sure beginning to seem like that. Everywhere I went, she appeared.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, that’s fine,” she said. “You just scared me. You stocking up on groceries?”

  She glanced meaningfully into my basket.

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Don’t forget to pick up some tea. I like Earl Grey and Chamomile.” She sent me a flirtatious wink.

  “Oh, of course, let me run and get it right away,” I said with a snarky voice, looking around the aisles to see where the coffee and tea section was.

  “It’s the next one. To the left,” Sophie added helpfully, ignoring my tone. “Why don’t I walk you over there?”

  I shrugged and let her lead me there. Nothing bad could come out of her helping me shop.

  “Is that it?” she asked me once she had thrown a box of Earl Grey and another of Chamomile into my basket. “Can I get you something else?”

  “No, that’s fine.” I glanced at her own shopping basket and spotted three items in it—Greek yogurt, a box of blueberries, and a container of steel-cut oatmeal. “What about you? That’s not a lot of stuff.”

  “I only needed to get some breakfast, so I’m done. Let’s go check out.”

  I cocked a brow at her; I was clearly not having a say here. As we headed to the checkout line, I asked, “Are you gonna pay for my stuff and carry it home, too?”

  “No, but you’re gonna pay for mine and carry it home,” she countered with a teasing smile. “Our building is only around the corner.”

  “I know,” I said as we placed ourselves behind an old, short woman with a giant butt and boobs who was waiting for an elderly man to complete his purchase.

  We stood there in silence for several seconds when Sophie suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no…”

  I turned toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed heavily and slumped her shoulders. “You’re gonna think I’m the shiftiest person in the world.”

  I already do, I thought but asked, “Why do you say that?”

  She face-palmed herself. “I forgot to bring my wallet… Can you believe it?”

  “That’s okay. I can pay for you.”

  “Could you? That would be so nice of you. As soon as we get to the building, I’ll run upstairs and get you cash for it. Seriously.”

  “No problem,” I said and waved a hand. “Just put your stuff in my basket. It’s almost our turn.”

  She tossed her items into my basket, then placed her basket on top of a stack of others next to the cash register. I started to place all the groceries on the conveyor belt.

  “You’re the best,” she murmured in my ear. “I’ll owe you forever and ever.”

  “Okay, no need to be dramatic,” I murmured back. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  She just smiled in response.

  8

  As we reached the apartment building, she opened the entrance door and held it so I could enter. My hands were loaded with grocery bags. She had offered to help carry them more than once, but I had stubbornly refused her. Together, we walked up the stairs to our apartments. Mine came first, being on the second floor. I had barely gotten up on the landing when I noticed that my front door was open. I stopped in my tracks, staring at it. Had I forgotten to lock the door, never mind closing it this morning when I had left for work?

  No. I distinctly remembered having locked it. So why was it open now?

  “Are you okay?” Sophie asked, having stopped beside me.

  “Shh,” I told her, then whispered, “It looks like someone is inside my apartment. The door is open. I didn’t leave it like that.”

  She looked at the door. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” I put down the grocery bags on the floor. “Watch these while I go check what’s going on.”

  Her eyes widened with fear. “Really? What if some crook is hiding inside?’

  I gave her a wry grin. “I think I can handle myself. Remember, I’m a crook, too.”

  In a few quiet steps, I was at the door and pushed it open all the way with my foot, then leaned against the doorjamb. As I was about to peek inside, I heard a familiar voice,

  “Shane? Is that you?”

  Mom. What was she doing in my place? She hadn’t called to check in with me like she had said, which I hadn’t minded. This would be the first time we connected since she’d picked me up at Ramsdale. I stuck my head inside the apartment and saw her sitting on the loveseat, doing something on her phone. Wearing an elegant sleeveless dress, designer heels, and lots of sparkling diamonds, she didn’t fit into the modest environment.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” I asked. “How did you get inside anyway?”

  She jangled a set of keys. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t make a set for myself?”

  No, I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to even acknowledge that.

  “I’m on the lease, you know,” she added with a self-satisfied smile. “Technically, this is my place. Why aren’t you coming inside?”

  “I—” I tossed a glance at Sophie, who had remained near the top of the stairs by the grocery bags. “Hang on,” I told Mom.

  I walked over to Sophie and told her that she could give me the money later, it was no rush. Then I found her stuff in the bags, which took longer than it should, and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she replied and smiled, pressing the stuff to her chest. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No big deal. I’m happy to help you out whenever I can.”

  “I’ll give you back the money later.”

  “No rush. Seriously.”

  “What are you doing?” Mom suddenly asked. I swiveled around to face her standing in the doorway.

  “Just finishing up with my neighbor,” I muttered. “I’ll be right there, okay?”

  She stared at us with a disapproving expression, not moving. I suddenly remembered my suspicions regarding Mom and Sophie. The way Mom was staring at Sophie now, one would think it was the first time she had laid eyes on her, but then I reminded myself that Mom was an excellent actress. She could easily be faking it. I tossed a glance in Sophie’s direction and saw that she was staring back at Mom with an unreadable expression on her face.

  “I’ll get going,” Sophie muttered then. “Talk to you later, Shane. Thanks again.”

  “No problem. See you later.”

  She scuttled past me and up the stairs to her own floor. I grabbed the grocery bags and crossed the short distance between Mom and me. She stepped aside so I could get into the apartment with my bags.

  “Who was that again?” Mom asked. “Your neighbor?”

  “Yes.” I put the bags down on the kitchen floor and began unloading them. “Her name’s Sophie Restivo. Does that sound familiar to you?”

  She looked mildly amused. “No. Should it?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering whether she was fucking with me or not. I couldn’t tell and that pissed me off.

  “Maybe,” I said ambiguously, vainly hoping that it would throw her off her game. I should know better by now. I had never seen Mom truly rattled. All the times she had acted rattled didn’t count, for obvious reasons.

  “So Sophie Restivo lives on the floor above you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she contemplated me.

  “Yes, she does. But you already knew that.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  I decided that I was being an idiot for trying to convince my insane mom to admit to me that she had hired a gorgeous, fun girl to trip me up. Confronting Mom about it would get me nowhere. If anything, the opposite, playing stupid, would be more effective.

  “Because I just told you she was my neighbor and you saw her walking up the next set of stairs,” I replied. “Why would she go ther
e if she didn’t live there?”

  Mom chuckled lightly. “Good point, darling. You like her, I can tell.”

  “Yes, she’s a nice girl. What’s there not to like?”

  “Right. She’s very cute, too.”

  “You could say that again.”

  “You seem very friendly for a person who’s only lived in this building a few days. Why’s that?”

  I loathed having to pretend I bought her cloying, fake interest in Sophie, but it was best that I played along. I shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t know. I bumped into her the first day I got here and we just hit it off right away. We’re on the same schedule, so we’ve seen each other other times, too.”

  “I see. What does she do for a living?”

  “She’s a criminology student at John Jay.”

  “Bachelor or Master’s?”

  “Well, she’s only like 20, so I’m guessing it’s her bachelor’s. What does it matter?”

  Mom smoothed out some invisible wrinkle in the skirt of her dress. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

  “Why are you here anyway?” I started to unload the grocery bags.

  “To see how you were doing. You are my son after all or did you forget that?”

  “I wish I could,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What was that?”

  I cleared my throat. “I said, ‘No, I haven’t.’” I moved my hand in a wide, circular motion to indicate the apartment and myself. “As you can tell, I’m doing fine. Anything else you wanna know?”

  She harrumphed. “You’re still mad at me. I already told you why I had to do what I did. You had to learn your lesson.”

  I bunched up the empty grocery bags in my hands. “Believe me, I have. I won’t ever do anything to piss you off again. Now that I’m aware how much that’ll cost me, how could I?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Mister.” She glared at me. “You gave me no choice.”

  It took all I had not to glare back at her and fire off a sarcastic response, but I knew better. It was much smarter that she thought she had managed to break me, turned me into her submissive son, a person who would never challenge her.

  I’d rather be dead before I’d let that happen.

  9

  It took me another couple of days before I remembered to check the names on the mailboxes downstairs. I did so while on my way out of the building to pick up a screwdriver at the local hardware store so I could put together a cheap side table delivered from Amazon. Mom’s surprise visit had me so thrown that all I had been able to think about lately were ways to make sure she’d never again enter my apartment unannounced. I was still clueless about why she had decided to show up that day. She had only stayed for ten minutes, claiming all she had wanted was to see how I was doing, give me more cash, and invite me to Sunday dinner with her husband and daughter. I knew her too well to buy that as the sole explanation. She was up to something, but I couldn’t figure out what and it bothered me. Even worse, I had the feeling there would be more surprise visits. Unfortunately, barring outright forbidding her to come, I hadn’t been able to think of anything to stop that from happening.

  I had plenty of time to investigate the mailboxes this morning. It was a Saturday, so I wasn’t dashing out the house, worried that I might be late for work.

  There were only eight of them, so I quickly found the two for the third floor. Much to my surprise, box 3 A was marked with the name Sophie Restivo.

  So her name must be on the lease then, I mused. Or at least the person who rented her the apartment had agreed to put her name on the mailbox. It could be that, too. That was what Mom had done with my place. It wasn’t like I paid a cent in rent and maybe Sophie wasn’t, either.

  I left for the hardware store and thought about the fact that I hadn’t seen Sophie since the day Mom had appeared. I hadn’t wanted to go upstairs and knock on her door, as that might seem like all I cared about was getting my ten bucks back. I could survive without it. With Mom’s rich hubby and my job at the restaurant, it wasn’t like I was starving or anything.

  Maybe I can ask her out for a movie, I mused. That way it wouldn’t seem like I was desperate to get the money back and I might get lucky afterward. I grinned to myself. It was a good idea. She definitely liked me. Or maybe she was just acting, but I might as well take advantage of it. I’d hint that I was interested, and then let her take the lead. The way she was behaving, I couldn’t envision any other outcome than us ending up in bed.

  Wait a sec. I stopped dead in my tracks. What the hell was I thinking? If she was working for Mom, the plan could very well be just that—entice me to sleep with her, and then make it appear like I had raped her. Sexual assault would not only land me back in jail, but it would put me back on trial for another crime. The more I pondered such a scenario, the more sense it made to me. Sophie was a very hot girl, and she seemed almost too interested in me. Not that I was ugly or anything—more than one female working at juvie over the years had flirted with me—but it wasn’t like I was all that, either. A girl like Sophie could have much better dudes, successful guys with lots of money, so why would she want a juvenile offender so badly? Unless something was seriously off with her mental state, she just had to be working for Mom.

  Anyway, so banging her was out of the question. That was too bad, because I was a virgin and I was dying to get laid. Oh well, I thought and shrugged. I would just embarrass myself and finish before I had even entered Sophie. The mere thought of that made me shudder and my cheeks heat. It was for the best.

  But I should still ask her to a movie. It would give me an excuse to talk to her some more. Maybe I could get her to crack, work for me instead. I hated to think that Sophie was just another crook, willing to do anything for money. She seemed genuinely nice. Maybe Mom had convinced her that I was a terrible person who didn’t deserve to be out on parole. Mom was good at that. Either way, I had nothing to lose by hanging out with the chick, so I decided that as soon as I had put the table together, I’d go up and see her.

  A couple of hours later, I was standing outside apartment 3 A, knocking on the door. No one came to open, so I knocked again, a little harder this time. Still nothing.

  Hmm. Maybe she wasn’t at home. I tried a few more times, forcefully rapping the door with my knuckles in case she was asleep or something. But nothing happened. She must be out.

  I wished I had her phone number so I could text her and see what she was up to. She hadn’t mentioned anything about going away. She also struck me as the kind of girl who’d return money she owed fairly soon. Like, the next day or something. Not that I cared about getting the money back. I cared about knowing that she was okay.

  I shrugged and turned away from the door. I was making too much out of this. She was probably fine. It wasn’t like she and I were close or anything. I barely knew the girl. She didn’t have to report to me what she was doing every single second of the day. Maybe she had just decided that she wanted to go visit some friend somewhere.

  I spent the next hours at the local gym, getting in my third workout as a free man. While in juvie, I had worked out several days a week, mostly lifting weights and jumping rope. There wasn’t exactly a lot of space to run and there were no fancy cardio machines around, so my choices were limited. But I was okay with that. I made the most of the equipment they had at Ramsdale. In addition to the manual labor they had us do and the sporting games we had to participate in, it had transformed me from a skinny little boy to a strong, fearless man. A man who didn’t take bullshit from anyone. It had definitely helped me survive at Ramsdale. It had only taken me getting raped by two guys to conclude that the only way to stay alive was if A. I followed my fellow prisoners’ unofficial rule of conduct and B. I could make people fear and respect me. The first rule—never rat someone out—I learned the hard way. It was the reason I was raped, I later found out. When I woke up in the facility’s hospital hours afterward, I was determined to get my revenge one day, and I would also do everything
I could to make parole as early as possible. Unlike the time I was beaten up, I wisely refused to tell the correctional guards who had attacked me, for which I was thrown in solitary confinement. After three days in the hole, I was let out and still terrified something would happen to me at night when the dormitories were in lockdown mode. I couldn’t be sure I had done the right thing by keeping quiet; I had only assumed I had. So I learned not to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time, always ready to use the sharp screwdriver hidden in my hand would someone try something on me again.

  Anything had seemed possible in that hell.

  As the days passed and nothing happened, I calmed down. It seemed I had finally adjusted to the way things worked at Ramsdale. Or maybe I was just allowed a break. I honestly had no idea. It was in those days that I befriended Carlos and Paco.

  I still don’t understand why they chose to help me, just that they did. I didn’t buy that they only wanted me to teach them proper English. Once they were gone, someone told me one of them was gay and had a crush on me. Not that I ever saw any signs of that, but I supposed that could be why, as they even took care of the guys who had raped me. I didn’t have to do a thing to teach those bastards a lesson.

  In addition to getting along with the other inmates, I ensured my relationships with the teachers, counselors, and especially the facility director were as good as I could possibly make them. That hadn’t been very hard; I typically got along with most people. Acting like I didn’t hate Mom but instead loved her was the part that had truly sucked. It was exhausting and made me so uncomfortable I developed severe anxiety. I dreaded the day she would come to visit, which were most Sundays. I didn’t sleep a second the night before. But I pushed through, pretended I was happy to see her and that I was grateful she stood by me as we weren’t seeing each other in a confined space. Most of the time, we met in a large room with several other guys and their relatives, correctional officers surrounding us.

  Thank God, that part was over, I thought and exhaled. Then I did another set of bench presses.