by Kat T. Masen
Into the Darkness
Part I of The Dark Angel Series
Kat T. Masen
Into the Darkness is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Into the Darkness is a registered trademark of Kat T. Masen.
Copyright © 2014 by Kat T. Masen
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited & Formatted by Michelle Josette
www.mjbookeditor.com
Cover Design by Clarissa Yeo
www.yocladesigns.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
SNEAK PEEK
DEDICATION
To anyone who made my crazy imagination come alive.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
So it’s true what they say, this is the hardest thing to write. Where do I start?
To my hubby – Thank you for being who you are, a smartarse. I love you not only for your smart mouth but for allowing me to be who I am. You have my heart but Lex Edwards comes very close. In saying that, keep doing the dishes babe, and you’ll remain number one.
To Nicola – We did it, my sista from another mista! Without you this book wouldn’t have come alive. I love you from across the ocean and thank the gods of Twitter for bringing us together. Fo shizzle, Jizzy, this is our dream – not just mine.
To Aidalis – Life handed us bananas and somehow we still made lemonade. You are my lifeline and just because I’m a spoilt little brat, I still want that stamp set.
To Lily – Poony, thank you for encouraging me when all I wanted to do was quit. I love you to infinity and beyond!
To all my ladies on Twitter, you are a bunch of crazy bitches. Thank you for the endless hours of hilarity and for never underestimating my Googling skills.
To my editor, Michelle – Thank you for seeing my vision and allowing me to stay true to myself. You believed in me and for that I am eternally grateful.
I write this final acknowledgment as a blubbering mess. To my three angels that walk this Earth: Alex, Preston and Masen. I love you more than life itself. Thank you for allowing Mummy to write and enjoy her coffee in peace. Yes, Mummy does write about love and no, the dark angel is not a ‘villain like the joker’.
Prologue
I wrapped my arms around myself to shelter my body from the sea breeze. The night air was cool yet humid, the lingering smell of rain mixed with salt. A sudden flash of lightning brightened the dark sky, a beautiful sight followed by the inevitable. I placed my hands over my ears, burying my head between my legs. The crash of thunder startled me. Slowly, I raised my head and uncovered my ears, then listened to the low rumble disappear into the night. I hated storms, they terrified me, but here I sat, waiting patiently as I always did. This was our special place, but tonight—with the moon obscured behind the dark thick clouds—this no longer felt like our safe haven. Anxiously, I pulled out a weed that stood between the rocks and tore it apart until there was nothing left. The lightning struck once again and the threat of thunder forced me to bury my head. I rocked back and forth as I hugged my knees. Unwillingly, my mind returned to the night my fear of storms began…
“He is the most beautiful man you will ever see. His soul will capture you, but don’t be fooled, Mi Corazon. He will use all his powers to draw you in when there is nothing left to do but take the one thing you’ve been holding on to.”
It was past my bedtime but I couldn’t sleep. A storm was rolling in and the thunder was getting louder. I pulled the covers over me, frightened by this creature Momma spoke about. With my heart racing and my voice shaking, I dared ask the question that haunted me.
“Who is he, Momma?”
Placing the book down, she paused, staring out of the large window. Fear passed over her classically beautiful face as she continued. I wasn’t sure why. Daddy would protect her. Daddy had a gun and said if anyone would ever hurt us, he would hunt them down like hungry wolves.
“The Dark Angel,” she whispered.
The name alone frightened me. Was he like the big bad wolf? I didn’t understand what I would be holding on to. I was only eight. This fairytale was nothing like the others. Where was the happy ending? Did the Dark Angel turn into a prince like in Snow White or Cinderella?
“Will he come for me, Momma?”
The thunder shook the house and I clutched her arm as tight as I could. I was scared, the thunder was so loud and I didn’t want the Dark Angel to come for me. He scared me. I wanted to stay with Daddy and Momma. As the noise became louder, I buried my head under Momma’s arm, trying to shut out the horrible sound.
“Momma, I’m scared.”
“Sleep, Mi Corazon.”
Humming my favorite lullaby, she stroked my hair to calm me down until I fell asleep in her arms.
I never believed it but for some reason it stuck with me and unfortunately so did my fear of storms. Just poor timing, I kept telling myself. Frustrated, I looked down at my watch. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. He’s an hour late.
Just as I was about to get up and leave, I felt his masculine arms wrap around me, warming my body. Placing soft kisses along my neckline, the stale smell of tequila lingered on his breath. My heart sunk; I knew something was wrong but I wasn’t in the mood to be sympathetic. I was sick and tired of all this sneaking around.
“Rough night? Haven’t you heard of a cell?”
“Rough doesn't even cut it. I’m sorry, my cell was acting up.”
Distracted, he moved his hands underneath my jacket and ran them along my stomach.
“You smell like you've been to a frat party,” I said. Unable to hide my annoyance any longer, I moved his hands away but he stopped me immediately. He tightened his grip around me and buried his head in my hair.
“Your hair... It's so... I miss you...” He mumbled words that made no sense and I grew even more irritated. I pulled away and stood up.
“What is this? I know you—better than you know yourself. You’re drunk for a reason.” Without hesitation I blurted out the words that plagued my mind. “You’re going to tell me it’s over? The signs are here, you’ve been acting weird all week.”
He stood up fast, unsteady on his feet. I half expected him to laugh it off but even in his intoxicated state he seemed to understand what I meant. The hesitation alone was enough for me to think the worst but I stood and waited without taking a breath. His eyes fixated on me, a trance I tried not to get pulled into, but slowly I felt myself drawn in, cast under his spell without any hope of climbing out.
“Over? I can’t breathe without you, Charlotte. How do you expect me to live without you?”
> I understood how he felt because I felt it too. Gently, he ran his finger down my cheekbone just as he had always done, then slowly and reassuringly he placed his lips on mine.
“Look at me, Charlotte,” he begged.
My eyes found their way back to his, and just like they had done a million times before, the emerald green shone back at me. In their reflection I saw only us.
He placed my hand over his heart. “As long as this beats, it’s for you. I’ll find a way for us to be together. Don’t give up on us; we happened for a reason. The rest are obstacles we can overcome. As long as you place your trust in me, I promise to never break you. I love you…only you.”
I gave into him that night because I loved him more than life itself, but it was soon afterwards I realized what Momma tried to tell me all along. That he would come for me, take all that was mine, then leave me alone in the dark. He would empty me of everything good and pure, leaving me hollow and unable to love, wandering alone in the darkness like a tortured soul. I prayed that he wouldn’t come for me, but he did. His name was Alexander Edwards, and that night he filled me with promises, made me believe it was only us in this world, that we only needed each other.
That was the last time I saw him.
Chapter 1
Charlie
The oddest thing about me was that I loved Monday mornings; I didn’t suffer from the so-called ‘Mondayitis’ like everyone else I knew. There was something about a new week, a fresh start, that excited me. The possibilities were endless. Unfortunately not everyone shared my enthusiasm. As I sat here in the boardroom, I looked at my surroundings as I waited for our weekly meeting to start. All heads were down, fingers busily typing away on their smartphones. In a room full of people there was nothing but the sounds of tapping and the constant ping or chirp followed by more tapping. If I could I would never leave this place. Some called me a workaholic. I preferred the word “passionate.” I loved everything about my job, and I loved all my co-workers who also happened to be my close friends. I closed my book and focused my attention on my new shoes. Okay, so I had a problem, I had no doubt in my mind I was a shoe addict. These new Louboutins were fresh off the fall line and I was a woman possessed by my need for shiny new patent leather and a heel that could poke your worst enemy’s eye out. As I crossed my legs admiring my new guilty pleasure, I caught sight of Eric taking a photo with his phone.
“Absolutely gorgeous, Charlie. Let’s hashtag this.” Fingers busily typing away, Eric smiled. Moments later he flashed me the photo.
“How nice of you, Eric. Did that interrupt your busy Candy Crush schedule? You have a problem, you know that right? I’d like to see you live one day—actually, no, make that half a day without your cell.”
“I did, remember?”
“Taking it back to the shop and getting a loan phone does not count.”
“Well for your information I am now using my phone to order lunch.”
Now that caught my attention. Lunch, and it was only eight fifty-five in the morning. Please be the sushi rolls from that Japanese place that just opened around the corner. My stomach rumbled at the thought of it and, embarrassed, I let out a loose cough and made a mental note to eat more breakfast in the morning. Clearly my stomach and I were not in harmony with this ‘let’s just have a cup of coffee’ diet that had become a terrible lazy habit.
“Charlie, the people all the way in Africa can hear your thoughts as well as your belly, and yes I am ordering from that new Japanese place, and no you aren’t eating those salmon rolls that made you puke up more than Linda Blair in the exorcist.”
“Gross, but you do have a point.”
Suddenly I felt queasy. That was one hell of a bad salmon roll. How was it possible I was not scarred enough that my body still craved it? The problem was I remembered how mouth-watering it was when I took the first bite and failed to remember the aftermath. I shuddered at the thought and mentally scolded myself for craving it again. I was so weak.
“Of course I do. I’m your BFF. It’s my job to steer you away from danger, and that includes bad sushi rolls.”
He buried himself in his phone again, looking up for only a moment to show me some picture of a dog wearing a Halloween costume. I had to laugh, because it was beyond pathetic that someone went to these lengths, yet cute at the same time. Of course he knew me well; Eric was one of my BFFs, as he liked to call it. It all sounded very juvenile but that's what I loved about him. He brought out the fun in everyone, plus he reminded me every day that we were generation Y. Living in a world that could no longer function without social media and ridiculous abbreviations such as BFF, Totes, YOLO and LOL. It wasn't long before they worked their way into my vocabulary, along with other, more vulgar words.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Look at Emma.”
I looked over and noticed she was reading something on her cell with her face scrunched up while she chewed on her hair. “What about Emma?”
“Do you think that’s her sex face?”
“Lord I hope not.” I laughed, then turned away as Eric let out a cough.
Like a whirlwind, Nikki, who was my partner at the firm, threw her stuff on the large mahogany table creating a loud bang which startled the others. Her usual perfect hair looked disheveled as she blew it out of her face, annoyed that it strayed. Her bright blue eyes had dark circles underneath them. I couldn’t help but worry as I took in her appearance.
“Bull’s, are you okay?” I asked, quietly trying not to attract attention.
“No, not really. I spent most of the night sick from that Italian place. My new Dior dress was ruined because Rocky couldn’t wait to reach the toilet or basin. It was the most disastrous anniversary in the history of bad anniversaries, like a scene from one of those cheesy movies.”
“The ruby colored Dior dress?”
“Yes, Eric. The ruby colored Dior dress which is at the dry cleaners being cleaned of any traces of projectile seafood marinara,” she answered in a huff.
“Thank God, Nikki. That dress is to die for!”
It was totally Eric to worry about the dress more than the person. He was fashion obsessed and if you were his best friend, it was impossible not to feel the same. It was the main reason why I designated him as my personal shopper when I didn’t have time to shop for myself. We were a lethal combination but American Express seemed to love us.
“Okay, seriously, let’s get this meeting underway before I projectile vomit over all of you,” she quickly interjected. With a look of disgust, she started the meeting and I followed her lead. Our assistants took down notes and my mind went into overdrive, excited by the new clients we had recently acquired.
When the meeting finished, I found myself alone with Nikki which gave us a few minutes to catch up before we were inundated with work for the rest of the day.
“So, I’m guessing your anniversary didn’t have a happy ending?”
“Honestly Charlie, you know I love Rocky, but there is seriously nothing more unattractive than seeing your husband covered in vomit, bent over the toilet bowl crying while calling his mom and asking her to come over.”
“He called his mom?” I asked, trying to hold back my laughter.
“Yes, and she arrived exactly an hour later with what could only be described as the entire drugstore.”
I wasn’t surprised; Rocky was such a momma’s boy.
“Enough bitching about my sookie la la momma’s boy husband and back to work.”
“You sure you don’t want to go home and just rest for the day?”
“Charlie, you’ve known me what, seven years? Since when did I ever go home sick?”
“True story. We’ll catch up later,” I said as I walked out of the room and headed towards my office.
I sat at my desk and started thinking about what Nikki said; seven years seemed like a lifetime. I did a mental calculation of the years in my head. I couldn’t believe how long it had been since we first met in college. Nikki and I were
designated roommates. Both of us where studying law which was probably why they dumped us together. The only problem was that Nikki was a bitch, the mean-girl type, the type that made your life a living hell. She thought she ruled the world, gave no one the time of day except for her college boyfriend, Rockford Romano. Rocky was a burly Italian guy, huge muscles, and he was the quarterback on the college football team. Women wanted him and men wanted to be him, but students were generally scared of him. There were rumors that he was part of the Mafia but in truth he was nothing but a pussycat, the kindest, sweetest guy you could ever meet who worshipped the ground Nikki walked on. She was hot. I mean, she put the Victoria’s Secret models to shame. Her long lean legs made her supermodel tall and her body was toned as a result of the Pilates she did every day in our dorm room.
Despite her being a total glamour-puss, she still remained the campus bitch. If you had a pair of tits and a vagina, she watched you like a hawk around her man. At a drunken frat party one night, someone called her a cow. That’s how they got the nickname Rocky and Bullwinkle. I just shortened it to Bull’s and called her that ever since.
One night during the end of our first year I found her lying on the bathroom floor, sobbing, surrounded by pregnancy tests. I was there to console her. She needed a friend, but that night we became more like sisters than friends. I did everything I could at the time to support Rocky and Bull’s during the pregnancy, mainly covering Bull’s shifts at the local pizza joint when she was too tired to work.
On August 8, 2006, they welcomed William Nicholas Romano into the world at exactly eleven thirty-four PM. I watched him being placed straight away onto his mother’s chest and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. I still remember the moment Rocky handed him to me and I held my godson for the first time. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on his wrinkly forehead and inhaled his baby scent. I fell in love with that boy the moment I laid eyes on him but holding him, that broke me, in a good way. There was this unconditional love for him that I couldn’t explain and it has only grown since.
