Free Unwritten by Tressie Lockwood Page B

of the shelf to confirm what her fingers had already identified. In the dim interior, it was hard to tell, and that brought the realization that the sun had gone down, and the light faded fast. She ran her hands over the smooth leather and opened the flap. An iPad.
    Her trembling fingers stabbed the power button too hard, but there was no response. She poked it again with more control. Nothing. No, no, no! It can’t be dead. “What am I thinking? I have to hold it down.” She did, for what felt like years. No little apple appeared on the screen. Hysteria bubbled in her throat.
    The doorknob rattled, and she dropped the iPad on the floor.
    “Evie? Why is this door locked? Open it up!”
    She jerked the iPad from the floor and stuffed it into the laundry basket, then jammed all the dirty clothes on top of it. She managed to open the door just as Anthony reared back as if he intended to bust it down. Evie scrubbed a hand over one eye and yawned.
    “What’s going on, Anthony?”
    The anger faded from his face. “Oh, you were asleep. Sorry, little cuz. I thought… Well, never mind. We’re leaving soon, so I want to make sure you’re ready. No funny stuff. I won’t have to knock you out again if you do what I say.”
    He grabbed her chin and turned her head to examine the bruise and swelling. She cried out. “That’s where it hurts, you idiot.”
    To her surprise, he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. You know I love you, Evie, right? We’re family.”
    She was so tired of hearing that family nonsense. Just because they were family didn’t mean he had the right to rule her life and act like they couldn’t be apart. She wondered why she’d never noticed his obsessive nature. After his parents were killed, Anthony had latched onto her, and he didn’t want to ever let go, even though they were both grown. He had so much apparently—money, means, connections—but he still had to have her too. He’d never made any kind of sexual overtures, thank goodness, but his attitude was no less disgusting.
    “I know, Anthony. I love you too,” she said to placate him. “Do you think I could go to the bathroom and you could make me something I can eat? I’m sorry for not eating the eggs.”
    He grinned. “Sure.”
    He led her down the hall to the bathroom, and she passed another, bigger bedroom. The unmade bed made her think Anthony occupied that room because he’d never made his bed as long as she’d known him, and the clothes strewn about the floor confirmed it. Something told her Anthony had been using this apartment since his escape. She used the bathroom, and he led her back to the original bedroom.
    “Don’t lock the door.”
    “I won’t.” She headed into the room and shut the door, praying he wouldn’t insist she leave it open, or worse, join him in the living room. He said nothing, and soon she heard his footsteps moving away. She ran over to the laundry basket and dumped everything out to reach the iPad. Another try to boot it up produced the same results, but she’d remembered the cord in the nightstand and darted over to get it. Soon the apple appeared on the screen and she waited with held breath until the device booted all the way.
    The icon for the Internet produced nothing, and she almost cried trying to remember where to find WiFi settings, since she’d gotten rid of her iPad months ago in favor of a different tablet. At last she found the settings, but all the available networks showed the locked symbol meaning they were protected. Her heart sank. She sat on her heels and laid the tablet on the floor, staring at it. At her place, every device with WiFi ability included saved settings for accessing her home network. Did that mean Anthony had deleted them from the iPad? No, something told her he didn’t know the tablet was on that shelf, even though he could have reached it with ease. His concern had been in destroying the phone, and since her purse wasn’t in the room,