Blackest Night (Shades of Death Book 3)

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  I couldn’t escape her.

  I should’ve just told Eli fuckin’ no, but I was having a hard time with that word around him lately.

  “Come on, little man,” I hollered at him. “We still have to go pick you up a bed before Cassie gets here.”

  Eli eagerly dropped from the branch he hung on and came running. He wanted his room ready to show off when she got here. Spence grabbed his half empty bottle from the steps, dumping it in the sink when we made it to the kitchen. I did the same and then started making a grocery list in my head on the way out the door. The remaining four beers in the fridge and the few condiment bottles and boxes of dry cereal that had made it over wouldn’t constitute any sort of meal.

  By the time Eli and I made it back to the house, laden down with grocery sacks and a bed that needed to be assembled as well as the requisite mattress and all the bedding he required, it looked like both of us were going to be sleeping on the floor tonight. I didn’t have time to set up his bed, let alone put mine back together before I had to go to work.

  “You don’t mind camping out on the floor for one night, do you? Or you can take the couch like you did last night at the apartment. I promise I’ll get our beds put together first thing tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” He shrugged like he really didn’t even though I knew he was itching to get into that loft bed he’d picked out that was more like a fort. I didn’t remember beds having slides when I was a kid, but once again I hadn’t been able to find that no word when his eyes lit up in the furniture store, despite the hefty price tag. His excitement was worth every penny.

  “When are my Legos going to get here?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll call Michael tomorrow and we’ll find out.” I didn’t relish the phone call. I’d be happy to never speak to the guy again, but unfortunately, he meant something to Eli. I couldn’t cut him out of his life completely.

  Eli helped haul groceries in and then sat down with the kids’ meal we’d stopped off for at the insistence of his growling tummy—which had an almost alarming appetite for chicken nuggets—while I did the heavy lifting.

  I made it into the house and up the stairs with the box of parts for his bed and then the twin mattress. A thin sheen of sweat coated my brow by the time I leaned them against the wall in his bedroom. Directly across from the master suite, it looked out over the backyard and the copse of trees that stretched out behind the house, creating a nice perimeter between us and whatever neighbors might be back there.

  Eli had made himself comfy on the couch downstairs, still chowing down on his chicken nuggets and sucking chocolate milk up through a straw. A few drops splattered on the coffee table when he placed it back down.

  “Napkin, bud,” I pointed at the chocolatey drops and he wiped them up.

  Man, how my life had changed so much in the past week. It was hard to believe. I knew there were still more changes that were going to have to be made, but having my kid with me, being Dad all the time and not just when Lisa allowed me to see him, well, I couldn’t deny it felt fucking good. And right. Familiar regret bubbled up for all the moments in his life I’d missed, but I shoved it down, promising myself right then, that I wouldn’t miss another. No matter what it took or what I had to sacrifice, I was going to be there for my son.

  It was just me and him from now on, and we would find a way to make it work.

  A knock at the door dragged me from my weighty thoughts. I already knew who I’d find standing on the other side of it, because it was that time. Eli jumped up, the last nugget, with a single bite taken out of it, discarded in his race to get to the door.

  “Wait for me to open it,” I told him.

  “But Cassie’s here, Dad!” he whined.

  I let out a heavy breath and prepared myself to deal with her caustic attitude as I opened the door. She stood on the other side, her deceptively pretty face fixed with a polite smile, hands holding her black jacket closed to fend off the chill in the air. It was covered in too many zippers for them all to be functional pockets, and yet it didn’t appear that the jacket itself zipped closed. It was the stupidest thing I’d ever seen. At least until I got a look at her . . . pants?

  “What the hell are you’re wearing?”

  She glanced down at herself as if she couldn’t understand why her ridiculous outfit would be cause for offense. “Clothes?”

  “What is on your—are those even pants?” I asked.

  The confused wrinkles between her brow deepened into a scowl. “They’re leggings.”

  They were one-hundred-percent curve hugging spandex is what they were. That wasn’t my issue with them. Cassie’s curves were one of the few things about her I could, and did, appreciate. I squinted at the leggings like maybe I was seeing them wrong, but nope. “They have tacos on them?” And what appeared to be little bottles of hot sauce.

  “Nobody asked you for fashion advice. Are you even aware that shirts come in other colors besides black? And do all of yours shrink in the wash or do you buy them that tight on purpose?” she complained as her eyes roved my chest. They lingered a little too long on my torso, before she yanked her gaze back up to my face. A grin quirked the corners of my lips.

  “Get a shirt that fits you,” she huffed as a bit of pink tinged her cheeks. Her skin was the color of coffee after someone ruined it with cream. That wasn’t how I liked my coffee, but I couldn’t deny Cassie was exotic and gorgeous. Her beauty had never been in question. Her sense of fashion was.

  “This one fits just fine.” Unlike her pants, it wasn’t made from spandex. It was all cotton.

  It wasn’t until Cassie bent her head and smiled big, that I remembered Eli was standing there, watching the two of us in our back and forth with a curious look on his face. “What do you say we kick your Dad out so he can get to work, and we can have fun?”

  “Hold up,” I stopped her. “We need to go over a few ground rules, first.” At the word rules she rolled her eyes. “If you guys leave the house, I need to know where you’re going. Bedtime is at nine o’clock sharp.” I dropped my gaze to Eli. “You start school next week and need to get your sleep habits back on track.” To Cassie I added, “I left money on the counter. We went grocery shopping today, so the fridge and freezer are stocked. Fix whatever you find, as long as it isn’t chicken nuggets. He had them for lunch and I don’t need him turning into a giant chicken nugget. The TV is hooked up, I’m sure you can figure it out. I didn’t get his bed put together, so you can just fix up the mattress on the floor for tonight, and I mean it about in bed by nine. Lock up and call me if anything else comes up.”

  “I think we can manage all that,” she said, taking a long look around the house. “Nice pink walls.”

  “It’s Coral Sunset,” I grated out.

  “Looks pink to me.”

  I ignored her. Mostly because she was right, but I’d never agree with her aloud.

  After a prolonged hug from Eli, I reluctantly left them to whatever they might get up to, and headed for the set of Red, Red Rose. The movie title was shit. Romanticized it too much, but what did I know about the movie biz? No doubt, they’d Hollywood up the story until it hardly resembled the actual facts anyway. I was counting down the days until filming was wrapped up and this gig ended for me. Babysitting divas wasn’t exactly my specialty. Nor was I the only one praying for this job to end. When I showed up, I don’t think James could’ve looked any happier to see me if I was a naked woman carrying a six pack of his favorite beer.

  “Thank fucking God. She’s in rare form today. Someone messed up her lunch order, which was a motherfucking catastrophe, and then she bitched out the hair and makeup people for some reason. I only caught the end of it as they all stormed out of the makeup trailer. So, she’s inside,” he jerked his thumb behind him at Riley James’ personal trailer, “freaking out to her assistant. Filming is behind for the day, so my guess is you won’t be heading back to the hotel until late.”

  I nodded, this was all p
retty typical shit. “Anything else to report?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed and then scraped a hand through his hair. The way it was sticking out all over the place, I guessed he’d been pulling at it all day. “While you were in Texas, weird gifts started showing up for her at the Bellwether, addressed to her pseudonym. Best guess is they’re from the stalker, and while it wouldn’t have been difficult to guess what hotel she’s been staying at, no idea how the creep got her alias.”

  “We thinking about moving her?”

  James gave a nod. “The only reason she requested the hotel to begin with was because she thought she’d feel safer there than in a rented apartment or condo, but I don’t think she’s feeling too safe at the hotel anymore. We should have somewhere lined up next week. Spence has the new girl checking security specs on buildings.”

  “You take the time to learn her name yet? Or any of them?” Mackenzie Atwood was just one of the six Spencer was considering bringing on full-time. Right now, he was running them through training, trying them out. I’d had my doubts about a woman joining the team at first, but Mackenzie was proving herself just as capable as the guys.

  “What time? After spending all day with Princess in there, the only thing I have time for is a workout and then a beer. Or ten.”

  “Clearly you two didn’t make nice while I was in Texas,” I observed. “Your job would be a lot easier if you didn’t antagonize her.”

  “Feel free to talk to me about it just as soon as you and Cass exchange friendship bracelets.”

  “Touché,” I ceded. That would never happen.

  “You got her babysitting your kid I hear, next you going to be inviting her back into your bed?”

  “I wouldn’t repeat that mistake again if she were the last woman on earth.”

  James arched a knowing brow at me.

  “Okay, I would, but I’d have to gag her. And probably tie her up.”

  “Kinky fucker,” he laughed, shaking his head. “What is your deal with her anyway? You seriously let her get under your skin. I think there’s something there you don’t want to admit.”

  “I could say the same about you and the Hollywood princess.”

  “And on that note, I’m outta here.” He gave a one finger salute and then ducked off the set as fast as his feet could carry him. There was definitely some underlying shit with those two.

  With James gone, I took up the post outside Miss James’ door and settled in for a long night. These ten-hour shifts being her shadow were a kind of hell of their own, but she wanted around the clock, so that’s what we provided.

  With nothing to occupy my mind, naturally it wandered in the direction of a certain dark haired, sassy mouthed nuisance. Wondering what she and Eli were doing, I dragged my phone out of my pocket and fired off a text.

  Burn the house down yet?

  I don’t think ten seconds passed before my phone vibrated.

  Nope. We’re going to play with matches after dinner. Right now, we’re cutting the ass out of all your whitey tighties.

  A grin had formed on my face without me even realizing it as I read the reply and then thumbed the keypad on my phone in response.

  I don’t wear whitey tighties. Or have you already forgotten?

  I knew it pissed her off every time I brought up that night.

  Sorry, guess you weren’t that memorable.

  My grin disappeared.

  Liar.

  She responded with the middle finger emoji.

  Five

  Cassie

  “It’s your turn.”

  I looked up from my phone to find Elijah waiting impatiently for me to roll the dice and move my character across the Clue! gameboard. It was one of five board games I’d dug out of Grandmama’s closet to bring with me, and I’d been horrified (okay, maybe not horrified, but slightly appalled) to discover Eli had never even heard of Clue!

  “Sorry,” I said, properly chagrined.

  “Are you texting my dad?”

  “I am. He just wanted to know what we were up to.” I reached for the dice and took my turn. I had a pretty good feeling about Ms. Scarlet, in the library, with the lead pipe. Since it was Eli’s first time playing, I was taking it easy on him and giving him a chance to come to the same conclusion. Instead of moving my piece toward the center of the board to solve, I traversed the distance into the study and made another wild guess.

  In the end, it only took Eli three more turns to solve it. He did a victory dance when he won the game.

  “That was so much fun. I’m going to ask my dad if we can buy this game. I think he’d love it.”

  “I think so too,” I said with a smile as Eli helped me to gather up all the pieces and return them to the box. Once the lid was on, I asked, “What’s next?”

  “Follow me.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me up and toward the back of the house. I was beginning to doubt I had the energy to keep up with this kid all night. We climbed trees. We kicked an old soccer ball that had been partially hidden in the bushes and had seen better days—most likely left behind by some other family. We played tag, where I was “it” almost the entire game. When I couldn’t chase him another second, I collapsed to my back in the grass.

  “I give up, you win. You’re too fast for me.”

  He giggled triumphantly and then asked if I wanted to play ninjas next, so we kicked and karate chopped invisible ninjas in the backyard until the sun began its descent in the sky. When I’d defeated my final ninja foe, I looked to Eli, who appeared to be taking on an entire ninja army with a stick.

  “You ready for dinner yet?” I called.

  I wasn’t surprised when he froze, announced the battle was over, dropped the stick, and made a beeline for the back door. He’d already retrieved a pizza from the freezer and was holding it up with a pleading grin when I made it inside. I took the box from him.

  “You go find us something to watch while I get this thing cooking.”

  I preheated the oven, and then for shits and giggles, I took a picture of the pizza, still in the plastic wrap, going into the microwave. I sent it to Nikolai, along with a text asking how long I should cook it for because the box didn’t have microwave instructions. My phone rang within a few seconds.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be working, not on your phone?” I answered.

  “Tell me you didn’t really put a pizza, wrapped in plastic, in the microwave.”

  “Don’t worry, I pulled the plastic off after I noticed it melting. It’s not like the TV dinner plastic.” What I’m pretty sure was a growl, or a really exasperated groan, came through the phone next.

  “Relax, I’m screwing with you. The oven is preheating now, and the plastic is in the garbage.”

  “I’ll relax when I can quit worrying about what you’re doing with my kid.” He was so fucking grumpy. He needed to lighten up.

  “You really have zero faith in me.” I acted as if this shocked me. It didn’t, but it might have stung a little.

  “You haven’t earned it sweetheart. You’ve done nothing to convince me you’re capable of anything besides pouring coffee and aggravating everyone around you. That, and spreading your lips and legs for me. Now that I think about it, I liked you better naked. You weren’t such a bitch then.”

  It was a verbal punch to the gut. “Well maybe if you weren’t such an up-tight, asshole with an ego out of proportion with your tiny penis, I’d be nicer!”

  I didn’t even give him the chance to respond before I jammed my finger against the screen of my phone to end the call.

  A minute later, I was still breathing hard and my eyes were burning with tears I refused to shed over him as I mentally tried to ease myself down off the ledge. Before I could fully calm down, my phone vibrated in my hand. When I read the message, I wanted to throw it.

  I think you know my penis isn’t tiny. You’re just being petty now because I only gave it to you the once.

  I hated him. I really, really hated him and his considerable penis. I c
ouldn’t believe I let my guard down with him even for a second, thinking we could get along. It was the stupid girl in me that wanted to find something decent in him and wanted to be liked. But he wasn’t decent, and I hoped he got some flesh-eating disease that made his dick fall off.

  I texted him exactly that, and then left my phone in the kitchen while the pizza cooked. I joined Eli in the living room and put a smile on my face even though Nikolai’s comments still burned. I didn’t want to care what he thought of me. I didn’t want it to bother me so much. Much worse was said by the online trolls—which is why I didn’t do social media anymore—but what Nikolai said hurt more.

  Being an emotional eater, I shoved everything I was feeling down with several slices of pizza and an entire row of Oreos. We watched back to back episodes of his favorite show until the clock neared bedtime. When I suggested we go upstairs and make his bed, he pulled out the puppy dog eyes, same icy blue as his dad’s, only somehow warm and affectionate unlike his father’s, and he pleaded with me to build a fort in the living room.

  Unable to resist those big eyes and pouty lips, we gathered every blanket, sheet, and pillow we could find, dragging chairs and moving furniture, all to create the most epic blanket fort any kid had ever seen. Only, I wasn’t a master builder.

  The end result was a relatively decent blanket fort that took up the main portion of the living room. It sagged a little at one end, but Eli was pleased with our efforts and that’s all that mattered.

  “Will you read to me?” He asked once he’d made a little nest for himself inside the fort.

  “Of course.”

  He retrieved a book from his Batman backpack and held it out to me. It was bent and worn and when I took it from him, I could tell some of the pages were loose. We both ducked inside the fort and he curled up on my lap while I read. He mouthed most of the words along with me, without ever glancing at the pages, like he knew this book by heart. It was about a mother who loved her son so much that every night when he went to sleep she sang the same song to him, even into adulthood, until finally the day came when she had aged and could no longer hold her grown son in her arms, and so the man held his mother and sang the song to her, and then carried on the tradition with his daughter. It was literally the sweetest story I think I’d ever read, but there were tears falling down Eli’s cheeks when I closed the book.