Fated by Darkness

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Fated by Darkness Page 7

by Jessica Sorensen


  Dad: I need u to stop by your mom’s place tomorrow and help me clear out her stuff so I can put the house on the market.

  I strangle the phone as I read the message. He acts like she’s already dead, and I hate him for it. Hate that he’s deciding to let her die. That he made me say what I want—that I want her to live and not pull the plug—and then told me he was going to let her die, anyway.

  That’s what he was doing at my hotel the other day. Well, that’s what he told me when I ran into him. He said he was there to tell me he had decided he was giving up on my mom—almost his exact words—and that I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  I wanted to hit him—still do—but he’s the kind of man who would call the cops on me. I know because he’s done it before.

  The real mystery, though, is who the man is that I saw him with. When I asked my dad about him, he gave me the same intrigued look he does in my nightmares, right after I tell him about the body in the living room. But getting my dad to ever tell me the entire truth is impossible.

  Me: I have band practice tomorrow.

  Dad: Come after you’re done, then, unless u want me to just throw everything away.

  Asshole.

  He’s always been that way, even since I was a kid, especially to my mom. He was always putting her down and yelling at her. He really amped up his douchebaggery, though, after the divorce. So did my mom; doing everything she could to piss him off. Now she can’t do anything anymore.

  Me: Fine.

  “Everything okay?” Lyric asks, bumping the car door shut with her hip.

  I stuff the phone into my back pocket and plaster on a fake smile. “Of course. I’m always okay.”

  “And you’re okay with the rules?” she asks as the three of us hike across the grass toward their place. “We’re not trying to be mean, but with Sadie going with us … well, we want to make things as uncomplicated for her as possible.”

  “I promise I’ll abide by your rules, Lyric.” I hold up a couple of fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  She rolls her eyes but laughs as she unlocks the front door of the condo.

  I find it a little strange that the door is locked when Sadie is home, considering the place is located in a fairly decent area of San Diego. Then again, after witnessing Sadie freak out when Nolan and I barged in on her earlier this week, I kind of understand. And from what I’ve heard and read in the news, the girl has been through a lot, probably more than I can even imagine. I just wish she’d let me in. I don’t even know why. Why I’m so obsessed with her and getting to know her. With helping her.

  The moment I step foot inside, the scent of delicious baked goods floods my nostrils and all thoughts go right out the window. I glance at the kitchen where Sadie is busy putting bowls in the sink.

  “Holy crap, Sadie, did the baking fairy throw up in here while we were gone?” Lyric jokes as she glances at the spilled batter and sugar on the counter.

  “I’m so sorry. I got a little bored and decided to bake.” Sadie has her head tipped down as she scrubs the countertop with a paper towel. She hasn’t noticed that I’m here yet, and I note how much more relaxed she seems. “I’ll get it all cleaned up.”

  “Sadie, you’re fine.” Ayden slips off his hoodie and hangs it on the back of a chair. “Lyric was just messing with you.”

  “I know that.” Sadie sighs, tossing the paper towel into the trash. “I’m just a little on edge. With the test over, I can’t find anything to do to keep myself busy.” She grips the edge of the counter with her head ducked down. Strands of her long, wavy brown hair fall into her face, but she doesn’t bother brushing them back. “So, I baked.”

  “It smells delish.” Lyric wanders into the kitchen. “Please tell me they’ll be done soon. I’m starving.”

  Sadie blows a strand of hair out of her face as she glances over at the oven timer. “They’ll be done in three minutes.” She pulls a face, still not noticing that I’m standing in the foyer. “I just hope they taste good … I’ve never baked them before.”

  “If they taste half as good as they smell, I’m sure they’ll be great.” Lyric opens the fridge and grabs a can of soda. “And if not, Sage will eat them.” Lyric flashes me a grin. “He eats anything when he’s high, even batter on crackers.”

  “Hey, I did that one time,” I argue. “And don’t dis it until you’ve tried it.”

  The sound of my voice startles Sadie, and her attention whips to me. Her eyes widen as our gazes weld. And just like always, I feel that pull toward her, like a lightning bolt to the chest. I don’t even know where the feeling comes from. All I know is that I’ve never felt it before and have no clue what to do with it. Or if I should even do anything with it.

  Sadie watches me as I wander over to the kitchen island and rest my arms on the counter. I offer her a smile while discreetly checking her out.

  God, she’s fucking gorgeous. The grey dress she’s wearing gives me a fan-fucking-tastic view of her legs. Too bad she acts like I’m the fucking plague.

  Ayden clears his throat, and I force my attention off Sadie.

  “Besides, I’m not high right now,” I tell Lyric.

  “Are you not getting high tonight?” Ayden asks, sounding surprised.

  I snort a laugh. “Fuck no. I was just following the rules and waiting until I got here.” I pat my pocket. “I’m all ready to go.”

  “Not in the house,” Lyric warns. “Do it on the back porch.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I salute her as I walk backward across the living room and toward the sliding glass door.

  “Make it quick, too.” Lyric threads her fingers with Ayden’s and pulls him toward the hallway. “We’re just going to take a shower, and then we’re heading out.”

  As the two of them disappear into the hallway, Sadie scrunches up her nose.

  “Not a fan of the love birds and their shower time, huh?” I joke, gripping the handle of the sliding glass door.

  Her body slightly jolts as she glances at me. “No, it’s okay that they do it … They just do it a lot. And sometimes …” She chews on her bottom lip, absentmindedly sucking on it, something she does a lot.

  I clench my hands into fists as desire floods my body. I want to cross the room and suck her lip between my teeth, taste her, get her to open up to me.

  See? This is what happens when you don’t go out. You get way too riled up.

  But I promised to keep my hands off Sadie tonight. Besides, I doubt she’d even let me touch her if I tried. Still, it doesn’t mean I won’t think about touching her. I do. All. The. Time. I have since almost the first day we met.

  With freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, stunningly big eyes, full lips, and legs that go on for miles, Sadie isn’t hot. She’s fucking gorgeous. But that’s not the only thing that draws me to her. It’s that fucking weird-ass desire to save her. That overwhelming desire that consumes me every time I’m near her.

  Lyric abruptly lets out a loud giggle from the bathroom, pulling me away from my thoughts. When the giggle is echoed by another, I start to understand why Sadie isn’t a fan of the love birds and their shower time.

  “Want to come hang outside with me while they do their thing?” I ask, sliding the door open.

  She starts to shake her head, but then Lyric lets out what sounds like a mixture of a laugh and a moan. She glances from me to the hallway, biting her nails, and for the briefest instant, she considers it.

  Then she sighs. “Sorry, but I think I need to stay in here and keep an eye on the brownies.”

  I’m not that shocked she won’t go outside with me, but I’m disappointed. “No worries. Just as long as I get to taste them when I get back in.” I wink at her then smile when her cheeks flush.

  After I step outside, I spend the next couple of minutes packing my pipe, feeling lonely while standing outside by myself. I debate whether or not I even want to light up solo. I can spend one weekend without getting as high as a motherfucker, right?

  As i
f he’s reading my mind, my dad sends me another text.

  Dad: Oh, and we’re going to talk to the doctors tomorrow, too, about what the next steps will be to put an end to this. We’ll go to the hospital after we pack up the house, so make sure to clear your schedule.

  I don’t text him back. Don’t need to. He wasn’t asking me if I could make it. He was warning me that I won’t get to say goodbye if I don’t come, reminding me that a goodbye is needed, because the end of my mom’s life is happening whether I like it or not. That the machine that’s keeping her alive is going to be turned off soon.

  His eagerness to basically let her die is fucking ruthless, even for him. He doesn’t seem too eager to find out what happened to her, either—how she ended up on the living room floor with bruises on her neck, veering toward death. The police say she was more than likely strangled, but they still haven’t found any suspects. I don’t know why this is happening. Why shit like this ever has to happen. Why people have to get hurt …

  An image of my nightmare presses against my brain, of me being dragged down the stairs by my dad.

  “I don’t want to hurt again,” I whispered through the tears.

  “Everyone has to hurt sometimes,” my father snapped, dragging me farther into the darkness. “At least yours is for a good reason.”

  I swallow down the vomit burning the back of my throat as I put the pipe to my lips, flick the lighter, and hold the flame to the end. The smoke snakes between my lips, slithers down my throat, and smothers the anger inside of me. With each hit, I feel lighter and lighter, my worries and nightmares fading.

  This is just what I needed.

  “Hey,” a woman, maybe a couple of years older than me with bright red hair, greets me as she walks out onto the porch of the condo next door. “Did you just move in?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. My friends did.”

  “Oh. I thought maybe you were one of their roommates.” She bites down on her bottom lip as she checks me out, tracing her finger along the neckline of her shirt. I notice she has bruises on her neck and wonder what they’re from. “Okay, so I don’t want to sound like a total stalker, but are you Sage Davis, the drummer from Alyric Bliss?”

  I hesitate, unsure of what to tell her. Not because I care, but because I’m not sure if Lyric and Ayden want their neighbors knowing who they are.

  She must read my hesitancy because she hurriedly says, “Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone.” Then she saunters up to the deck, leans over the railing, and kisses me before I can even react.

  The kiss is brief and quick, and does absolutely nothing for me, besides distract me. And, for a moment, I let the distraction happen. That is, until I hear the sliding door roll open.

  I jerk back, and my heart sinks at the sight of Sadie backing into the house.

  “Um … Sorry …” she sputters. “I should’ve knocked … or something.”

  “Yeah, you should’ve.” The redhead gives Sadie the dirtiest look, making her shrink back into the house.

  “No, she shouldn’t have,” I snap at the redhead. “It’s her fucking porch.” I turn back toward Sadie, ready to apologize, though I’m not sure why I feel so guilty, but she’s already gliding the door shut.

  Fuck. I think I just fucked up big time. And I don’t even know why. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. Still, the need to fix all of this—help her—consumes me, and I start for the door, trying to figure out the best way to apologize.

  “Hey, where are you going?” the redhead yells after me. “I’m not done with you yet. Get back here now.”

  I dismiss her, which leads to her spitting out a series of very painful ways of how she’s going to hurt my manly parts.

  Great. She’s a crazy fan, who lives next door to Lyric and Ayden. I’ll have to warn them to be careful.

  After I leave the porch, I start to look for Sadie. When I reach her bedroom, I knock on the cracked open door and it creaks open. Sadie is sitting on her bed, staring vacantly into the center of the room. One word rushes to my mind at the sight of her.

  Haunted. Beautiful, but so damn haunted.

  “Sadie …? Are you okay?” I inch into the room, then freeze as her eyes lock on mine. Her big, tearless, yet full of fear eyes that nearly swallow me up whole.

  “I don’t want to hurt again,” I whispered.

  “Everyone has to hurt sometimes,” my father snapped. “At least yours is for a good reason.”

  Why the fuck is that suddenly replaying in my head?

  Sadie slowly shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I am.”

  Silence lingers between us, except for the sound of Lyric giggling and sirens screeching from somewhere outside in the distance.

  I take a few cautious steps toward her, feeling guilty as hell, but still not fully understanding why. I want the feeling to go away. I want to make the look in Sadie’s eyes go away.

  I suck in a shaky breath as I reach her bed. “Is there anything I can do to take the pain away?”

  She starts to shake her head, but then her gaze descends to my hand. “How does it make you feel?”

  I track her gaze and realize I’m still holding my pipe. “I don’t know … Honestly, I don’t really feel anything when I do it. I guess that’s kind of the point.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip, and I find myself wishing she was the one who kissed tonight. But I doubt she’d ever let me, especially after catching me kissing the crazy redhead.

  “Can I …? Can I try it?” she asks, shocking the crap out of me.

  “Um …” I scratch my brow and shift my weight. “I don’t know … I think your brother would kill me if I let you.”

  “He doesn’t have to find out.”

  “But he could.”

  She swallows hard then nods, tears bubbling in her eyes.

  Maybe it’s the tears that causes me to do what I do next. Or maybe it’s the haunted look in her eyes and my desperate need to take the pain away from her. Or maybe I’m just stupid and high and not thinking at all. Whatever the reason is, I find myself saying, “Just one hit.”

  She nods and reaches for the pipe.

  Hesitating, I move the pipe out of her reach then kneel in front of her. Maybe I’m an asshole for doing what I do next—I probably am—but I’m so fucking drawn to her right now I can barely stop myself from reaching out and drying her tears with my fingertips.

  When she tenses, I say, “Just relax, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She takes a few shaky breaths then nods.

  Taking a deep breath, I put the pipe to my lips, light the bowl, and then inhale. Trapping the smoke in my chest, I lean forward.

  Her eyes widen, and I realize I should’ve explained what I was going to do. I almost back out and exhale out the smoke before I reach her, but then she starts to lean forward, too, as if sensing what I’m about to retreat. So, I keep going.

  Closer, closer, closer, my lips near hers. This is the closest I’ve ever been to her. The closest she’s let me get. I don’t know why she’s letting me do it now, especially after seeing me out on the porch with that woman. I should be a better guy and stop this, but I’ve never claimed to be a good guy. And Sadie … She’s quickly becoming my weakness. I have a feeling this pull I feel toward her is only going to worsen now.

  But I’m too close to her to give a shit.

  Right as our mouths just about touch, I release the smoke into her parted lips, and she inhales, as if she’s done this before.

  “Have you done this before?” I ask, not moving back. Fuck, the urge to touch her is so strong I have to stab my fingernails into my palms.

  She shakes her head, a faint cloud of smoke puffing from her lips. “No, but I’ve seen other people do it.”

  My brows dip. “When?”

  She dazes off. “In another world … Another life …”

  She looks so haunted, so tortured, so in pain. Sometimes I swear I feel the same way, but I don’t even know why.

  I wan
t to help her, but I don’t know how, other than to kiss her pain away. That seems lame and probably would scare the shit out of her more than it would help. So instead, I lean back and shove the urge to kiss her away. Then I take another hit, outrunning my own personal demons for just a little while.

  9

  Sadie

  One time, I was starving so badly I decided to eat a handful of bugs. It was an act of desperation after not eating anything for almost five days. I was skin and bones, hollow inside, and not just from the lack of food. So, I did what I had to do. I dug into the dirt that had been my floor for almost two years and gathered enough bugs to cup into my hand. I don’t know what kind of bugs they were. It didn’t really matter.

  They were alive and moving, and I dry-heaved at least ten times before stuffing them into my mouth. The moment they touched the back of my throat, I gagged and half of them flew out while the other half slid down my throat, wiggling, still half-alive.

  To this day, I sometimes feel like the bugs are inside me. That they’ve somehow crawled out of my stomach and made a home under my skin, clawing at me, reminding me of what desperation feels like. And the bugs, they feed off my fear.

  I wish I could stop feeding them, stop being so afraid, but I can’t. I’m always afraid of what’s going to happen to me, that I’m never going to change, that I’m always going to be this scared girl that I am now.

  Seeing Sage kissing that redhead reminded me of everything I’ll never be and everything I’ll never have. It hurt to think about, so I ran back to my room and laid down on my bed.

  Staring up at the ceiling, I sucked in a breath and trapped it in my lungs. Holding, holding, holding, I counted to ten. Twenty. My lungs ached, about to combust. Thirty. My skin was still crawling. Forty. Fifty. I scratched at my flesh until my skin bled. Sixty. My heart, body, and mind were screaming at me to breathe. Seventy … The crawling slowly dwindled. I swore the bugs were dying. My vision spotted. My body trembled …

  Just a little bit longer.

 

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