Shades of Darkness (Trials of Fear Book 2)

by Nicky James

  He spun to the door and yanked it open, fleeing without bothering to shut it. The dull light from the hallway made me squint. He’d gone in the direction of the elevators. All I could do was step into the gloomy hallway and call after him because, with my anxiety spiking, I knew I could never follow him inside.

  “Adrian. It’s not you, it’s all me.”

  He laughed as he spun and continued his retreat backward. “Lamest line ever, Rory. It’s a classic, and maybe I haven’t dated, but I’m not an idiot.”

  He reached the elevator and pushed the button while a wild debate raced through my mind and body. Everything I held so tightly wrapped inside started to unravel. The dark memories that haunted me seeped out and took control as they always did when the truth threatened to surface. If he knew. If he understood.

  “Adrian.”

  My feet moved on their own free will, tugging me toward him.

  He glanced over his shoulder as the elevator arrived. When the doors opened, the blinding light halted my steps, and I brought a hand up to shield my eyes. There were still over fifteen feet between us, but the tingling discomfort raced to cover my exposed skin. I scratched my arms, listening to the rising pulse of my heart, beating in my ears.

  I wanted to curl up in a ball and get away from it. My advance on Adrian and reasoning for chasing him down the hall became secondary, and I took a step backward instead of forward. Other than my increasing discomfort escalating by the second, the only outside thing I registered was Adrian watching me, his hand holding the elevator door open.

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “Adrian. Please.”

  He didn’t know what I was begging him for, because I couldn’t express any more than that simple plea. Please come back and talk to me. Please understand how hard it is to make myself vulnerable. Please understand that I bear scars from the day I lost all trust in humanity. Please let me tell you. Just, please.

  His voice broke through the rising chaos in my mind just as I reached my apartment door again.

  “Look at yourself, Rory, and tell me again how you manage fine on your own. Call the center. Tell them you made a mistake.”

  He released the door, and it closed, extinguishing the blinding light disabling my thought process. I needed to escape, so I backed into the darkness of my apartment and locked the door, sliding to the ground where I sat and gathered myself.

  He was right. I’d made a mistake. But the mistake wasn’t canceling my sessions, it was withholding the truth from Adrian for so long. In the comfortable shadows of my apartment, I sat on the floor and battled the darkness in my mind—the one that had held me prisoner for six long years.

  If I closed my eyes, the nightmares I’d been fighting showed themselves in perfect vividness. All the emotions returned. The pain. The humiliation. The fear. The hatred. The anger. I couldn’t let it go. They chained me like a prisoner to a world I despised. Unbreakable binds that stole my freedom.

  After a long time working to regulate my heart rate and stabilizing my head, I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened a message box to the only person who begrudgingly knew all of me.

  I fucked up.

  I dropped my cell beside me and drew my knees up, hugging them and burying my face. A furry body rubbed against my legs, and I reached out blindly to massage fingers through Samson’s thick fur the way I’d seen Adrian and Krew do on multiple occasions. His purr was like a blanket of comfort lately, although I’d never admit that to Krew.

  My phone pinged, and I grabbed it, checking the message.

  Need more, baby. What’s up?

  I typed a single word and hit send.

  Adrian.

  His reply was immediate, and I could hear the implied tone behind every word.

  Girl, do I need 2 write u a script? WTF did u do?

  There was too much to explain, and the last thing I wanted to do was spill my guts through text.

  Come over tonight?

  Obv. B there at 3

  The following few hours dragged. I worked some, smoked lots, and held off opening a beer until a quarter to three. When Krew came through my door without knocking, I was on my balcony, chain smoking and working on my second drink.

  He helped himself to his own beer before joining me. Once he was comfortable with his feet kicked up in my lap, he pierced me with that look he gave when I tried to people and failed.

  “Define fucked up.” He tilted his beer to his lips and drank.

  “I closed my file at the counseling center. Ran into Adrian tonight. Told him. Brought him back here with the intent to fuck him, and then, found out he’s a virgin.”

  Krew blinked, then blinked again. He placed his beer on the ground beside his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he fanned himself with his other hand in the overly dramatic way he did with everything.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

  “Absorbing your stupidity, sugar. Shut up for a minute.”

  It was those quirky actions that drove me nuts. Krew always had to perform with everything. I wished he would just fucking yell at me instead of absorbing.

  When he finished his little calming exercise, he fluttered his eyes open and pursed his lips. “Okay, so first, tell me he didn’t declare himself a virgin, and you kicked him out.”

  “I didn’t kick him out. But I did change my mind about fucking him.”

  Krew flinched. “And why?”

  “Because who am I fooling? I’m not exactly boyfriend material. I don’t do gentle and sweet.”

  “And who says that’s what he wants?”

  “Come on. He’s not you.”

  Krew rolled his eyes so hard I didn’t know how he didn’t hurt himself. “Obviously. But don’t bullshit me, girl, I know there is way more behind this refusal then you’re letting on.”

  Was I that fucking transparent?

  “Stab in the dark, lovey. I’m going to guess how this went down. You were getting all hot and heavy with the guy, it was leading to sex, he announced his virgin status, and bam, you freaked out. Why? Because of a few reasons. One, you were involved in a heavy making-out session, which Rory Gallagher doesn’t do. Two, you wanted to make it special for him, but you haven’t told the guy your whole story yet, and during a sensual, sexual encounter isn’t how you wanted him to find out. Three, you don’t think you deserve him. Four—”

  “Krew, fucking shut up.”

  He listened but drank his beer with the smuggest of smiles. I hated when he was right, but more so, when he knew he was right.

  I lit another smoke.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I said after a few hefty pulls.

  “Yeah, you do. You want to date him.”

  “And how the fuck do you know that when I don’t,” I lied.

  Krew set his beer down and slid to his knees.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Demonstrating.”

  He shuffled between my legs, and I froze as his fingers worked loose the button on my jeans. I clamped a hand around his wrist, stilling him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked between clenched teeth, my cigarette forgotten in my hand.

  “I’m gonna suck your dick, you’re tense.”

  “No.”

  I shoved him away and did up my jeans with a look of disgust on my face. Krew didn’t protest or push the issue. He sat back in his lounger and retrieved his beer.

  “That’s how I know. I knew the minute you turned me down a few weeks back. Not once since you’ve met Adrian have we fucked. Not. Once. And, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit, because I can get sex anywhere. But it told me then he was special to you.”

  I didn’t respond. I focused on my cigarette and the clouds of smoke that disappeared into the air after each exhale.

  “Rory, this is a good thing. Adrian isn’t going to hurt you.”

  “I know,” I snapped a little too harshly. “Adrian… he lives in his own hell.”

  “Then who better to be by his s
ide than someone who gets it?”

  I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Every thought of Adrian opened a wound I didn’t know I had, and the rawness of the exposure hurt. I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know if I could be that person.

  “Oh, and PS, bitch, do you know how hard it was to find you help that fit within your vampire needs? What the fuck? How can you just quit?”

  “I got enough shit to think about, can we drop it for now?”

  Krew rolled his eyes and made a display of propping his feet on the railing as he finished his beer. “It was so much easier when we could just fuck that anxiety right out of you. You’re a bitch when you’re in love.”

  I ignored that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adrian

  Lists gave me a sense of control. So, I’d spent all weekend making them. Pros and cons of calling Rory and convincing him to return to therapy. Reasons why I wanted to see him again, along with every excuse under the sun why I shouldn’t. I made a lengthy list of everything about him that made me crazy while I tried to put my sex-addled brain aside so I wouldn’t pick up the phone and call him.

  Monday evening, as I sat with a coffee at the island in the kitchen, I examined the lists for the hundredth time. When another burst of anger hit me, I tore each and every paper to confetti and dumped them in the garbage. I was an idiot to think Rory gave a shit. My declaration had ground everything to a halt, and it was clear as day—even in his shadowed apartment—that my inexperience was a huge turn-off.

  It was time to stop obsessing over him and move on.

  My roommates were all out, and I was grateful for the few hours of silence before I needed to head to work. I sipped my hot drink and picked at a plate of stir-fry I’d made that had gone cold while I’d been stewing over unnecessary lists.

  Because Rory’s file had been closed, I officially didn’t need to see him at eleven and would head straight to the office. It was both irritating and a relief. I’d carried the embarrassment of our encounter around for days, and I couldn’t wait to be too absorbed in work to think anymore.

  There was a clatter at the front door, and I tipped my coffee to my mouth draining the last mouthful before jumping up. If someone was home, it was time to disappear to my room. Whoever it was must have been alone because no loud voices followed their entrance.

  As I slipped from the kitchen to head upstairs, Marcus came through with his hands loaded with textbooks and a stack of papers. He eyed me from behind the load.

  “Hey, mail.” He waved a few envelopes in my direction, so I backtracked and grabbed them.

  “Thanks.”

  That was the extent of our exchange since my uncertainties about his loyalties were always in question.

  Our mail wasn’t delivered to the house, so generally, someone grabbed it when they passed the postal building on campus. That person was almost always Marcus lately, since he was still in class.

  I headed upstairs, sifting through the envelopes in my hand. Two of them were stamped with the college emblem, and I tore into them, knowing it was probably my grades. Finally.

  I locked my bedroom door and flopped onto my bed to read the enclosed papers.

  It was exactly what I’d been waiting for, and my father would be happy to hear, I’d managed to keep all my classes in the ninetieth percentile. The second envelope was a note from the dean of psychology himself, congratulating me on my excellent achievement and inviting me to take place in a full-day awards ceremony/open house in early August. Not only was I being recognized with three high-achievement awards, but he was interested in having me do a small presentation for new high school grads entering the program. Although he stated in his letter he’d leave the topic of my presentation up to me, he’d also leaned quite heavily on the idea that I should speak of the available options in the field of psychology upon completion of a degree program.

  Public speaking had always been my least favorite part of school. Over the years, I’d learned to adapt and found it less awkward, but that didn’t mean I could do it with pure confidence. There was always fear involved.

  I re-read the letter twice and immediately my brain began breaking down options for a formal presentation that would be informative and yet equally captivating enough to keep the attention of high school graduates.

  My father would be pleased to hear of this honor and seeing as how I’d be receiving awards on the same day, he and my mother would definitely make the trip out to support me. They hadn’t missed a single awards ceremony since I was in kindergarten; they weren’t about to start now.

  It was too late to call home, so I tucked the letter and transcript away and packed my bag for work.

  * * *

  “Do you have plans for your weekend?” Alyssa asked as she sipped her mocha latte.

  We had ten minutes left before we had to return to work. It was Friday, and we’d spent every lunch hour that week getting to know each other better, and it was nice to have a friend I could talk to for once.

  “Not really. Thought maybe I’d sketch out an outline for that presentation I have to do. Maybe take a trip to the library. Grocery shop. Lame, I know.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t overdo yourself. I meant like a date or something. Do you have a girlfriend?”

  I knew she wasn’t asking for her own interest sake seeing as she was recently married, but her question still rose my hackles. It was that one foot in and one foot out scenario I always struggled with. I didn’t think Alyssa was one to judge, and I didn’t want to mislead her, so I bit the bullet and made the correction.

  “No girlfriend. Gay.”

  She smiled. It was soft and knowing. “I had a feeling. Boyfriend then? No big date with a boyfriend?”

  “No boyfriend.”

  She pursed her lips and traced a painted fingernail along the top of her paper cup before looking up from under her bangs. It was almost like she’d been hoping for that response. “You know… my cousin, Alan, just moved back into town...”

  “Are you trying to play matchmaker?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Please don’t. I’m not sure I’m interested in dating right now.”

  It was a big fat lie. I’d have loved to finally get into the dating scene, except my ego was sufficiently bruised from the previous week’s encounter with Rory, and I wasn’t ready to go through that again. That, and I hated how much Rory still occupied my thoughts.

  Alyssa nodded understanding. “I get it. He’s a quiet guy, and he’d probably hate me trying to set him up anyhow. Sorry I mentioned it. But… If you change your mind, I could accidentally make it so you and him ran into each other.”

  I laughed at the hopefulness in her tone. “I’ll consider it.”

  “Yay! I think you two would get along. You’re a lot alike. He just finished teacher’s college and got a job for September with the local school board teaching high school literacy.”

  Maybe I needed something to help me take my mind off Rory. Would it be so bad to at least meet the guy? I chewed my lip as I rolled those thoughts around my head.

  “Let me think about it at least. I don’t know.”

  “Of course.”

  We packed up our lunch and walked back to work to finish off our last shift of the week.

  The weekend began exactly as I anticipated. I slept away a good part of Saturday and woke around four. After showering, eating, and doing laundry, I spent a few hours making various potential outlines for a presentation I wouldn’t need to make for a few months.

  By midnight, Dylan and Marcus took off which left Calvin at home, ripe to annoy me because he’d been left out. Without a sidekick, his methods of attack were reduced to loud music and unflattering commentary which I’d learned to ignore long ago. Shortly after one, he took off as well, and I had the entire house to myself.

  I was about to head downstairs to watch some TV when a plink, plink, plink drew my attention. I shot my gaze about my room, unsure what I was hearing
. The noise continued at uneven intervals, and when I determined it was coming from my window, I cautiously drew my curtain aside.

  My window faced my neighbor’s. Only a small five-foot wide pathway separated our houses. It was enough room to cross into the backyard of both our properties if it wasn’t overgrown with weeds. Who expected college students to care about landscaping? The maintenance crew who took care of the college rental properties barely managed lawn care out front, even they didn’t bother with the overgrown paths at the side of the house.

  In the shadows was a man. He was dressed as normal as any other student or person his age—cargo shorts, and a dark T-shirt with something printed on the front I couldn’t make out—except he wore sunglasses. I only knew one person who would wear shades at night.

  Rory.

  And he was chucking rocks at my window.

  My stomach fluttered pleasantly and annoyingly. All week I’d tried to push Rory from my mind. Unsuccessfully. The memories proved to be too good to be forgotten—despite my humiliation. What the hell was he doing there?

  Once he knew he’d caught my attention, he motioned for me to go outside before shoving his hands deep in his pockets. Then, he sank deeper into the darkness where he knew I couldn’t see him well. I hesitated, hating him at the moment but also yearning to know why he’d sought me out. I was a glutton for punishment. As smart as I was, I never learned.

  I let go of the curtain, and it fell back over the window. If I was going to confront Rory, then I needed to grow a pair and not allow him to hurt me. His rejection stung more than it might have if it had come from anyone else. I’d stupidly thought we’d connected on some level, but maybe it was all a game for him.

  I shut down my laptop and locked my bedroom door behind me. Once outside, I wandered to the side of the house where my bedroom window overlooked the neighbor’s to see if I could see Rory. The darkness was dense, but I could see enough to know no one was there.

  “Will you walk with me?”

  I startled and spun around. His voice had come from behind, but the front lawn was vacant. The road in front of the house was lit by streetlamps on both sides. It was overly bright like most places on campus, done purposely to cut down on late-night assaults and crime. Scanning, I didn’t see where he was.