My hands are clammy as I fumble with my keys to unlock the doors. My key fob needs new batteries. I mentally note that I need to get on that ASAP. When I finally get the door open, I stuff myself inside, locking the door behind me. I quickly start my car and pull onto the busy street without giving it time to warm up. On a Saturday afternoon, traffic is heavier than normal. I get stuck in a line of cars at a red light. Nervously, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, willing the light to change colors. I just want to get back to Griffin’s house.
I glance around the cars, increasingly growing impatient, when something on the street corner catches my eye.
The first thing I see are his black, dead eyes staring directly at me.
They burn holes into mine.
Every scar on my body feels like it’s on fire.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and the bile rises in my throat. My heart thrums in my chest, pumping harder and faster. My throat constricts. I can’t fucking breathe.
I can smell the cold, wet dirt.
And then he smiles.
His lips curl upwards, into a grin that mirrors the Devil’s.
A car horn blasts from behind me, making me jump. I tear my gaze away from him, seeing that the light has finally turned green. I stomp my foot on the gas pedal, slamming it against the floor. I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white as I speed past him. I glance into my rearview mirror and see him in the same spot, watching me drive away with that evil smile never leaving his face.
I don’t take my foot off of the gas pedal until I reach Griffin’s house. I can’t get out of the car. I’m frozen in place, shaking uncontrollably, staring straight ahead. Trent opens the front door, but I don’t really see him. Griffin is at my side of the car, pounding on the window. I’m stuck in a trance; lost in my head. The black eyes from my nightmares linger in my head.
Slowly unbuckling my seatbelt, I unlock the door and turn to get out. Only, I still can’t move. Griffin is crouched in front of me talking. But I don’t hear him. I stare at his face, not blinking. He grabs both of my biceps, giving me a gentle shake.
“Lydia!” This time I hear him. His voice is stern. “What’s wrong? What happened?” His voice grows worried.
I blink quickly, shaking my head, unable to find my voice.
“Lydia, what happened?” he repeats.
“I…I…” I stutter. Tears start to well in my eyes. Griffin sees them before they fall and puts his arms around me.
“Hey,” he says softly, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”
I let the tears fall, feeling nothing but fear.
“I saw him,” I whisper.
“Saw who?” he asks, slowly letting me go. His worried eyes search mine. “Ryder? What the fuck did he do?” his voice grows angry.
“No,” I shake my head, closing my eyes. I don’t know that I can say his name out loud.
“Who did you see?” he demands.
I can feel the color leave my face.
I become as white as the ghost that I just saw.
“Jared,” I whisper. “He’s back.”
chapter ten
RYDER
I LIFT THE COOL GLASS TO MY LIPS and throw back the warm, amber colored liquid. The familiar burn of the liquor flows down my throat. I slam the shot glass back onto the bar and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Lemme get another one,” I motion to the shot glass. The bartender stands in front of me, both hands on the bar. She’s a petite brunette with tits the size of melons. I stare at them, imagining them in my hands. She clears her throat, drawing my attention away from them. She narrows her dark blue eyes at me. She grabs a bottle of vodka and pours me another shot.
“You got some demons you tryin’ to drown tonight?” she asks while she makes a drink for someone at the end of the bar.
“You have no idea,” I mumble, before taking the shot. I watch her walk down the bar, taking the drink with her . She comes back over and pours me another shot without me asking. I drink, and she pours more until I feel the familiar warmth spread inside me. A goofy grin takes over my face as I start to grow more relaxed.
“So…” I pause and squint my eyes, looking down at her name tag, “Shannon. What time do you get off?” My voice slurs a little from my increasing buzz. I didn’t come here with the intentions of going home with someone. But fuck it.
“I get off at two,” she winks at me, filling my glass again.
“Perfect,” someone says, taking a seat beside me. “So you’ll be cutting him off way before then.”
I look over and see Griffin sitting there. I roll my eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. He grabs the shot glass in front of me and throws it back.
“What can I get you?” Shannon asks him, sweetly.
“I’ll take a Jack and coke.” He gestures towards me. “And get this piece of shit a glass of water.”
“You got it,” she winks and quickly makes his drink. We sit there in silence. I cross my arms and rest them on the bar. She sets down our drinks and then works her way back down the bar.
“We have a problem,” Griffin’s voice is hushed. I look over and find him staring me down. I stare back at him, narrowing my eyes.
“Look,” I start, “if I want to have a drink, I’m going to have a damn drink. And you can’t do a thing about it.”
“Could you just shut the hell up?” he spits out harshly. “It’s not always about you, Ryder.”
I give him the finger.
“So what’s the problem then?”
“Jared is the fucking problem,” his face grows cold. “He’s here.”
My stomach drops, and suddenly, all the alcohol isn’t sitting right in there. My heart rate picks up. I widen my eyes, staring at him in disbelief.
“What do you mean he’s here?” I take a huge gulp of water. “I thought you found him but he was off the grid?”
“He was. I had my guys working day and night to find him. And then the motherfucker just shows up out of nowhere.” Griffin’s frustration is clear as day on his face.
“How do you know he’s back?”
My buzz is slowly dying from the adrenaline coursing through my body.
“Lydia saw him today,” he pauses and cuts his eyes at me. “You know, when she was in town waiting for your ass to meet up with her.”
Fuck.
That was today.
“Don’t worry.” He takes a sip of his drink. “We’ll get to that another time. But right now, we should figure out what we’re going to do. We have a problem that we need to take care of. We’re going to have to come up with a different plan.” He pauses, his face growing serious. “And fast.”
“ARE YOU COOL TO DRIVE?” Griffin asks me as we walk out of the bar.
“Yeah, good now.” Any buzz I had was long gone now. I unlock the car and get in. “I’ll follow you over,” I tell him, closing my door. I start my car and wait for Griffin to start his. He pulls out of the parking lot with me right behind him.
As much as I didn’t want to, we were going to his house to discuss everything going on. I know Lydia will be there. And as much as I don’t want to see her, I do. I need to know she’s okay.
The front of the house is dark when we pull up. I park beside Griffin and climb out of the car. We stand side by side, staring at the house. Not a single light is on. Even the light on the porch is turned off. I glance over at Griffin, and I don’t like what I see. His eyebrows are pinched together and his mouth forms a straight line.
“She was here when I left,” he mumbles. His dark eyes never leave the house.
“Are you sure she didn’t go to her mom’s?” I ask him, looking back at the dark house.
“I’m sure,” he says curtly as he strides towards the door. I follow after him, picking up the pace to keep up with him. He takes the steps two at a time onto the porch. Grabbing the door handle, he slowly turns it. It doesn’t budge. Reaching around his back, he lifts up the back of his shirt just enough to
pull out a small handgun. Holding it beside himself, he quietly unlocks the door.
“You got yours?” he asks as he quickly looks back at me.
I give him a swift nod and mimic his actions, pulling out my own gun. He nods back at me and slowly opens the front door, pushing it open before we enter. The house is silent;
I can hear my pulse throbbing in my ears.
I’ll take the upstairs, I silently mouth to him, jerking my head towards the stairs. He nods in response and turns to make his sweep of the downstairs. Making my footsteps light, I slowly walk up sideways, keeping my back against the wall. When I reach the top of the stairs, I’m greeted with more darkness and silence. I check the first room and the bathroom and find them empty. Holding the gun in front of me, I walk towards the end of the hallway.
I turn to the room on the left, reaching for the door knob. I push it open, and the door across the hall opens at the same time. I spin on my heels, aiming my gun at the figure in front of me. They inhale sharply, taking a step backward.
I strain my eyes against the darkness.
“Don’t fucking move,” I say in a low, harsh tone.
“Ryder,” her voice is soft, “it’s me.”
I know that voice.
“Jesus Christ.” I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “What the hell are you doing here in the dark?”
Instinctively, I reach out and pull her towards me. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her close and hold her tightly. Her smell surrounds me. Vanilla. Her slender arms come around my waist, holding onto me.
Suddenly, the lights in the hallway come on and Griffin’s footsteps are heavy as he rushes up the stairs.
“Yo, you good?” he calls out. “She’s not downstairs,” he informs me as he reaches the top of the stairs. I look up and catch his eye as Lydia quickly steps back, breaking our embrace. Griffin’s eyes narrow for a second before he directs his attention to Lydia. He rushes over to her.
“You fucking scared me.” He grabs ahold of her upper arms and quickly hugs her. His unsaid words hang in the air. He thought she was taken.
“I’m fine,” she quietly says as she steps back, pulling away from him. She gives both of us a small smile, brushing it off. “I didn’t want anyone to think I was here,” she admits before growing quiet. She holds her hands together in front of herself and then crosses them in front of her chest. Her oversized t-shirt drifts slightly up her thighs. She catches my gaze and quickly grabs the hem of the shirt, pulling it downwards.
“If you’re going to play vampire again, at least let me know, okay?” Griffin says lightly. Watching them, I feel like I’m on the outside. And I am. I’m not a part of her life anymore.
“I will,” she nods earnestly. “We’re here and we’re safe.”
Fuck.
Who is we?
“Okay, good,” Griffin sighs in relief.
“Can I go back to bed now?” Lydia lets out a soft laugh.
“Yes, of course.” He turns towards me. “We were just gonna go downstairs and talk about some shit, right?”
That’s my cue.
“Yep,” I say shortly. “Goodnight, Lydia.” I give her a tight smile. I go to turn towards the stairs when her shirt catches my eyes. It’s a worn out shirt, but the letters on the front are bold and clear.
NYU.
My old shirt.
My breath catches in my throat. She’s a beautiful mess. And it hurts to look at her. I turn on my heel and head down the stairs, not bothering to hear any more. I go into the kitchen and start my search for some liquor. The crystal tumblers are tucked away in a nook on the counter. Grabbing a glass, I pour the bourbon and drain the cup. I pour another glass and walk to the living room.
Taking a seat on the leather recliner, something hard digs into my ass. Leaning to my side, I reach underneath and pull the object out. It’s a small toy fire truck. All of a sudden, this morning replays in my head, and I’m reminded of something I’d been trying to forget.
Lydia has a kid.
I turn the truck around in my hand, inspecting the different sides of it.
“Fuck,” Griffin mutters, sitting down on the couch with his own glass of bourbon. He takes a swig, and I tuck the firetruck in my pocket. He sets his drink down on the coffee table and runs his hands through his thick black hair.
“From now on, I will have someone here at the house when I’m not here and someone following her,” he says, staring at me. “We need to take care of this situation immediately.”
“We already know what we have to do,” I say in a low tone, staring back at him. I feel the rage slowly building inside, starting in the pit of my stomach.
“We need to be smart, not irrational. It has to be a clean job.” He pauses. “A quiet one.”
I shake my head. “The motherfucker needs to pay for what he did,” my voice grows harsh and cold. A clean job, my ass. I’m ready to get my hands dirty and give this piece of shit what he deserves.
“Ryder,” his voice is stern, “he will pay, do you hear me? But we’re not going to fucking jail. So if you’re in this, we’re doing it my way.”
I glare at him, ready to take it out on him. But I know he’s right.
I can’t go to jail. I can’t lose control.
A moment passes before I respond.
“How are we doing this?”
chapter eleven
LYDIA
WELL, THAT WAS UNEXPECTED.
I slip back into my room, quietly closing the door. Resting my back against it, I slide down to the floor, closing my eyes. I struggle to catch my breath and to calm my heart. It pounds against my chest.
He was the last person I expected to see.
Not to mention, him having a gun in my face.
I could feel the fear and the relief radiating from him while he held me tightly. He took me by surprise, pulling me against him. And my body automatically reacted, relaxing into him and wrapping my arms around him. I can still smell him on me. Bunching up my shirt, I pull it to my nose, breathing in his scent. He noticed my shirt—his shirt.
A rush of feelings hit me at once. It’s overwhelming. I feel the pain, like I’m losing him all over again. And the feelings I’ve kept deep down inside. The all consuming love that I’ll always feel for him.
I drop the shirt in a rush, trying to shake the feelings.
I want his arms back around me.
Warm.
Safe.
The sheets on my bed rustle. Trent slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking for me. I jump to my feet and stride over to the bed, sitting next to him. I pull him into my arms.
“Shhh, baby,” I murmur, slowly rocking him, “go back to sleep.”
He wriggles in my arms and sits back up.
“Mama, I thirsty,” his voice comes out as a whisper.
I lay him down on the bed. “Let me go get you a drink and I will be right back up, okay?” I tell him, pulling the covers back over him.
“Okay,” he yawns.
Leaving the door open, I quietly pad down the hallway. The hardwood floor is cold on my bare feet. I hear the faint sound of the TV as I come down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“The motherfucker needs to pay for what he did,” I hear Ryder’s voice from the other room. I freeze in place, with my hand on the refrigerator door. His voice is laced with anger.
“Ryder,” Griffin responds, his voice stern, but then his words are hushed. I can’t make out the rest of what he’s saying.
As quietly as I can, I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. I quickly shut it and rush back up the stairs. By the time I reach my bedroom and close the door, Trent has fallen back to sleep. I sit down on the edge of my bed and slowly run my hands through my hair.
Knowing Ryder is downstairs has me on edge. And whatever they were talking about doesn’t ease my nerves. I don’t know that I want to know what it was about. I could have stayed downstairs longer. But I couldn’t eavesdrop on them. Just hearing
Ryder’s voice was enough to make me come undone.
I wait for my body to calm down, but it refuses to. Feeling the restlessness inside, I slip out of the door onto the balcony. Hoping the fresh air and the sound of the ocean will help, I sit down on one of the lounge chairs. The cushion dips down as I lie back. Closing my eyes, I try to forget about the man downstairs and why I’m even here.
“LYDIA.”
I hear his voice in the distance. It’s just soft enough that I can barely make out the words. I smile to myself.
“Lydia.”
He calls to me again in the dark, his voice but a whisper. The sound alone sends a familiar warmth through my body. I’ve craved hearing my name on his lips for so long.
Something lightly brushes the side of my face. My eyes fly open as my body jolts upwards, and I’m suddenly sitting face to face with Ryder. Hesitantly, he reaches towards me, slowly tracing his finger down the side of my face. I don’t move a muscle. My heart betrays me and pounds against my chest. I stare at him, my voice caught in my throat. His clear blue eyes stare back at me.
He brings his hand back to his lap and clears his throat. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he starts. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Really? That’s what he is here for right now?
“I’m guessing you didn’t mean to stand me up too?” My tone is cold; thick with anger. He winces and glances away. I scoot around him, pulling myself to my feet.
“Lydia,” he reaches out, grabbing my hand, “I didn’t mean to stand you up. It’s…complicated.”
I laugh out loud. Louder than I should. “This was a mistake.” I start to shake my head. “I shouldn’t have come back here.” I try to wiggle my hand from his, but he only tightens his grip.
“Just let me explain, please,” he pleads, swallowing hard.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “I came here to talk to you, and you didn’t show up. You didn’t even have the decency to tell me you weren’t coming. So no, you don’t need to explain. It’s clear that what I needed to talk to you about wasn’t important to you.”
Returned to the Light Page 5
