Love in the Dark

by 12 Book Boxed Set (epub)

  That dress doesn’t fit me anymore, so I could see why she had to buy me a new one. Who would it be now? Another man who I’d have to play house with and convince that my mother and I loved each other. She hated me and never missed an opportunity to show me.

  “Be ready in thirty minutes,” she ordered. “We’re going to meet Corbin and his children.”

  Corbin? That’s an ugly name. I wished she didn’t drag me to her meet and greet. Playing the compassionate, sweet, sensible mother was her worst role. It surprised me that she had chosen a man with children.

  She pulled me by the hair and pushed my head against the bed. “I said get ready, bitch. And you better behave, or I swear you’ll pay for it.”

  How would I pay?

  Food, hot water, bathroom privileges … all of the above. Even animals deserved better treatment than what she offered.

  It’s only a few years, Abigail. Three more years and you’ll be old enough to ditch this psycho.

  Nothing she said or did could break me. It wasn’t me. It was her. Some people don’t have what it takes to be human, and she was one of them.

  The dress she bought was too short, and the shoes too narrow. I’d never walked in heels before, but I tried my best. Complaining was pointless. I followed her to the car and sat in the backseat while she drove us downtown. She parked several blocks away from the restaurant. As I stumbled trying to walk in the ridiculous heels she gave me, I questioned if the shoes were her new way of torturing me.

  “Stop walking like that,” she chided. “You look like a chicken.”

  Most of her comments made me wonder why God gave her a kid. Certainly, she didn’t want me. Mom left me with my grandmother just days after I was born. At twenty-eight she decided that she wasn’t old enough to care for a newborn baby. At forty-three it wasn’t any different. Then when Grandma died before my eleventh birthday, Mom had to take me back.

  It was because of Grandma’s house, placed in part of a trust under my name. If Mom wanted to live rent free, she had to deal with me. In a way, I was her landlord, yet she treated me like I was a dog begging for food.

  “Corbin,” her voice changed to a sticky sweet tone. Her smile seemed to increase when the guy named Corbin kissed her on the cheek.

  “You look radiant, Olga,” he greeted Mom and then turned his attention to me.

  “Is this your sister?”

  “Aren’t you adorable?” Mom grinned at him. “Abigail, this is Corbin.”

  His eyes flickered as he looked me over from head to toe, staring at my legs for too long.

  “Shaun,” he called someone over. “Meet your new sister, Abigail.”

  Shaun looked at me in the same way that his father did. Then he stared at my mouth and grinned.

  “You’ll do,” he said, winking at me.

  “That’s Ava?” Mom asked about a girl who stood closer to the restaurant’s door. “She’s so precious.”

  “Yes, she’s the quiet one,” Corvette, or Cordial or whatever his name was, told Mom.

  He glanced at me before he spoke, “You two are going to be best friends—share everything.”

  What was “everything?” I asked myself. His words sounded like a threat, not a sweet invitation to share my toys with his daughter, which would be weird. At fifteen I didn’t go on playdates or own any toys. The tone he used made me shiver. I hugged myself, closing my eyes tight. I sent a prayer to God and Grandma. Hopefully, like the others, this man would leave before he got too comfortable.

  “Let’s go, Abigail,” Mom ordered. “We’re having our first family dinner.”

  I stared at her with my mouth open wide. How could she say that when we barely knew these people? I followed right behind them. Ava began to walk a few steps after me and Shaun joined her.

  My heart stopped when I heard his creepy voice. “Dad got us a new toy. You’ll cooperate, won’t you, sweet Ava?”

  — — —

  Present Day

  “Until I turn into an elephant,” Wes says, thumping his hand against the table.

  “What?” I frown at Wes, who’s talking nonsense.

  “Are you okay?” Wes looks at me in bewilderment.

  “Yes, why would you ask?”

  “You’ve been staring at your food. I’ve been talking to you, and you’re just nodding and shaking your head.”

  Peyton reminded me of them … Corbin and Shaun. The girl. Poor little Ava, who is finally at peace after having to live with them.

  “Can we go?”

  “Yes. We can order something and eat at the office,” he says taking me into his arms. “I just want you to remember that you’re safe with me.”

  “Of course, I am, silly. And I’m okay.” I lie, scratching my head hard. Letting my nails dig deep into my scalp. The pain releases the anxiety building inside my gut.

  Nothing is going to happen to me.

  Yet, the dread is overtaking me so swiftly that no amount of self-inflicted pain will help me.

  What if they see me?

  I have Wes by my side.

  “I don’t want to pry,” he says as we board the elevator. “But who died that night?”

  “Ava.” I stare at the floor.

  “Who was Ava to you?”

  “Ava was …” I remember the thin, little blonde girl who barely spoke and was afraid of her own shadow. When I met her and her family I knew something wasn’t right. Shaun’s bloodshot eyes coupled with his weird comments during dinner. The way he touched her knee with a fork and ran it over her leg. It was so bizarre and sickening.

  “My mom met a guy when I was fifteen. They got married a year later and moved in with us,” I explain trying to filter my story.

  This isn’t the time to be open with him. We’re just starting a relationship. How would he react if he knew what I lived through, what I saw, and what I had to do … would he ever understand?

  “He was a single parent, too,” I continue, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

  “Corbin had two children—twins. Ava and Shaun.”

  “We were told that Ava was your sister,” he says with an inquisitive tone.

  His hands tap lightly against the table. He’s dying to throw multiple questions at me.

  “But she was like your sister?”

  I shrug. We weren’t related, nonetheless by the end we’d shared so much. Ava and I barely exchanged words. Yet, we had a bond that would keep us together until …. My heart thumps fast remembering her last moment. The way she lay on the floor bleeding but finally leaving the pain behind. Though, it almost felt like when she died, she left all of her anguish behind for me to pick up. Every second that I lived with her, what we lived through in that room together, is coming back to me now. It feels like it happened last night and like I should be hiding in case he comes back.

  “What happened to Shaun?”

  I freeze at his question; my heart accelerates.

  “You say one word, bitch, and you’ll die. Do you understand?”

  “Kill me,” I begged him. “Just let me die.”

  18

  Wes

  “Stop,” she says, her voice trembling.

  Fuck, she’s shutting down. I had her right where I wanted for a few minutes and now … she’s about to run away. But we can’t stop right now.

  “Abby, it’s just a question,” I reassure her, gently.

  “What are you doing, Wes?” She shakes her head, stands from her seat and walks away.

  I stare at her silhouette for a few seconds thinking about everything she just told me. It doesn’t sound like much, but I feel like I just opened the vault and I’m about to find the secret. Or, in her case, hopefully I’m about to find a way to help her. In order not to lose this window, I follow and catch up with her before she steps out of the coffee house.

  “We’re done with story time,” she says firmly.

  She’s shutting down. This can’t be it now that I know that there’s so much more to the story. If only I
can convince her to answer a few more questions. I link our fingers together and realize that she’s trembling.

  Fuck, I mouth. She’s shivering, and I didn’t realize it until I touched her. What’s going on inside that mind of hers? Abby spilled all that information because she was thinking out loud. She wasn’t really sharing, just trying to avoid another panic attack. I’m not sure if we should be going back to work.

  Once we arrive at the building where the Ahern offices are located, I direct her to the stairs.

  “We should go home,” I suggest.

  “No. I want to settle in before I officially start working next week,” she protests.

  “I get it. You think I can’t function, and that’s why you’re giving me this job and …” she clamps her lips together tightly and shakes her head.

  “Hey, you’re one of the smartest people that I know.” I lift her chin with my finger. “This job is yours because Dad wanted it that way. You could do it from anywhere, but I love that you are here, with me.”

  “So, you’re saying I can leave?” She eyes me with a daring scowl.

  “You make it sound like you’re my prisoner,” I say, disappointed. “I was under the impression you came because you wanted to be with me—not because I forced you.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Why are you here, Abby?”

  “Because of you. I couldn’t jeopardize losing you.” Her eyes scan the area. “This place scares me. I know you think I’m insane but—”

  “No. What I think is that you’re hiding something important.” I touch her temple. “Whatever happened in the past is affecting you, and it’s getting worse.”

  “What if the past catches up with my present?”

  I’m a little disappointed in her. It’s been years since she left her old home. She doesn’t want to talk to a professional about it and insists that therapy can’t help her—when the real reason is because she’s unable to talk about her past. And I can’t judge her or assume, but if she doesn’t help herself—no one will.

  “It takes time to overcome your traumas,” I say firmly.

  I touch my chest lightly. “I was a kid who lived out of garbage cans. My house was filled with prostitutes and trash. I have no idea who my mother was or if I even had a mother. My parents, Will and Linda, understood your food issues because they went through the same battle when I came to live with them.”

  “It’s not the same,” she whispers. “You didn’t have food. I had food, but I wasn’t allowed to touch it, unless …”

  “Abby, what happened?”

  “Nothing. Maybe you’re right. I’m overreacting.” She scrunches her nose and pulls back her shoulders. “I told you several times that I didn’t want to come back, but you said you needed me.”

  “You came back out of pity?” I groan.

  My shoulders slump. This woman, who is barely hanging on by a thread, came back because she thinks I can’t stand on my own two feet.

  She lifts her chin; her eyes find mine. “No, I was afraid that I’d lose you if I didn’t come. I can’t imagine my world without you, Wes. I decided to live among the monsters because I choose to walk through pain and relive my past, if it means that I’m beside you.”

  This is one of the millions of reasons why this woman owns my heart. She might not tell me who the monsters are, or what happened to her, but she battles them for my sake. How did I dare doubt her?

  “You’d never lose me, no matter what, Abigail Lyons.” I pause, feeling tears begin to burn the back of my tightening throat. “If you need to leave, I’ll understand.”

  “Wes,” she says. My name on her lips makes me shiver.

  I close my eyes, waiting for her dismissal. The shortest affair of my life—lived in less than twenty-four hours. We kissed, we promised to give it a try, and then she left me behind.

  “You’re right,” she says, caressing my jaw. “My past shouldn’t hold me back from my future. And I would never leave you—not when I know there’s the possibility of so much more.”

  My heart restarts with her words. They are perfect, exactly what my head needs to hear, but deep down in my soul, I still know that’s it’s not right for her and maybe not right for the two of us either. The pain in her voice and her distress over the past couple of days are proof enough that this isn’t the place for her. I should be thinking about her wellbeing. She’ll wreck my fucking world once she leaves, but I’d do anything to see her happy.

  “Hey, Weston Ahern, stop trying to fix my life. I’m responsible for it. The decision to come here and stay is my own to make. Not yours.” She faces me with a conviction I haven’t seen in a while.

  The last time she did that was when she turned down Dad’s offer to send her to DU, all expenses paid. Abby had a plan and had saved all the money my parents had given her for lunch, clothing, and her allowance. She had enough to leave the state and find work. I offered to pay for any school in the country. Dad eventually ended up picking up the tab, but she wasn’t afraid to start from zero, as long as she was far away from this city.

  “If I’m saying I want to live here, it’s because I do.” She pokes me in the chest. “And you have to respect that. It’s time you treat me as an equal, not a like a flimsy piece of paper that’s about to blow away.”

  “You’re so many things, but flimsy isn’t one of them,” I say smiling.

  “Then don’t treat me like I’m about to crumble. I get it, I’m not normal. Just don’t make it so obvious.”

  “You hate the word ‘normal,’” I remind her. “You need to understand that I won’t stop pampering you—or worrying about you. I just want to see you happy—and safe. That’s my main goal in life.”

  I run a hand through my hair, closing my eyes briefly. “Sorry. I thought that by bringing you here we could finally be together.” I breathe harshly. “But now, I’m not sure if it was a good idea.”

  “Now that we’re together, are you sorry about it?” She angles her head, cupping my head with her soft hands.

  “Of course not. I’m thrilled that we’re giving this a chance,” I say. “It’s always been us. Together.” I say capturing her with my arms and bending my head down. I pull her closer against my body.

  19

  Abby

  I nibble on my lip while searching for my phone. Where did I put it? Last night I counted the little crystals on the chandelier. The compulsive counting lasted for hours while I tried to fight the flashbacks. Since nothing worked, I tried Netflix on my phone. Nothing I chose numbed my mind enough. Hovering constantly in the background were thoughts of Wes and Peyton. It’s been more than a week since I saw her, but seeing her made every memory feel fresh.

  Weston Ahern wants me happy, an emotion I’ve yet to feel.

  Is it safe to tell him that I’m fresh out of happiness?

  Poor guy. He tries so hard and nothing he does gets me to that point. The truth is that I haven’t been happy in years. Content, yes. But happy? What’s really the meaning of that word?

  Happy or not, I still have to live my life and face the fear. Maybe I can’t speak about what happened, but I can live with it. That should be possible, shouldn’t it?

  I jump into the shower before going to work, and I flinch as my scalp burns intensely. This time I skip the shampoo. I should stop scratching my head every time I panic. Counting the drops instead, I force the memories to the back of my mind. Today is a new day, a fresh start. A day where the feeling that someone is watching me might trigger a panic attack. I haven’t told Wes, but I swear, I can feel them close. One of them is watching me.

  The need to escape increases. I don’t give in, because I won’t let them take more than they’ve already taken.

  I turn off the shower, grab the towel, and clean the fogged mirror, taking a deep breath. The woman in front of me gives me a blank stare. Her eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark circles under her eyes. I’m on day three without any sleep.

  “You need to get a gri
p,” I order her. “The way you’re living is pitiful. You have a great job, a wonderful boyfriend, and a future. Why are you still trapped by your past?”

  Because what if they’ve found me and they’re following me? I whisper back at her.

  My gaze drops. I can’t look at her. She’s going to remind me of his promise—the threat. I dry off and moisturize my skin before walking into my closet. I choose a pencil skirt and a sleeveless blouse with a black blazer. As I lift my hair and twist it, I cringe. Today is a wet, loose, curly hair kind of day. I wish I could change into more comfortable clothes. Business casual sucks. Adulting sucks.

  I apply enough makeup to conceal the dark circles, but I skip the contacts. Wes better not start asking questions because I’m not in the mood to avoid him today like I did yesterday. In the past week, he has pumped more information out of me than anyone has in six years.

  Where is Shaun?

  I wonder what Corbin told the police and social services about his son—or if he ever mentioned him. Unlike me, his children were homeschooled. Was there ever any record of them? I should ask Wes to help me get the police report from that day. What did Corbin say? Why did everyone assume she was my sister? He could’ve made up a story about me and claimed I was Ava, but he didn’t. Why?

  When I was younger and in the thick of it, I played the blame game. I blamed myself for what was happening. Now, I understand that the only person to blame was my mother. Mom was impressed by Corbin’s parenting skills—and his money. He was a single dad who not only worked hard, but also homeschooled his own children. The problem about my mother is that she only saw the sparkly wrapping on the outside. She never asked herself what he did for a living. Olga Lyons thought she was smart. I bet she didn’t question anything. Unless, she didn’t do it until it was too late and that’s why she’s gone.