In the Dark

by Chris Patchell

  Drew released her and winked at Liam on his way by. Last call. He had to get out of here before he did something stupid. But first he needed another drink.

  And then what?

  Then he’d do the smart thing. He’d go home and cool off. He’d deal with Alicia later.

  After all, she wouldn’t have any trouble finding a ride home.

  Chapter 2

  “Give me that,” Brooke Parker said, trying to snatch her ID card out of Tess Turner’s hands. But her roommate was too quick. With an impish grin, she held it beyond Brooke’s grasp and squinted at the photo.

  “Seriously, this is the worst fake ID I’ve ever seen. Were you drunk?”

  “Very funny. Like yours is any better.”

  She grabbed Tess’s arm and managed to wrestle the card from her grip. Tess laughed.

  “At least mine looks like me.”

  “And you’re passing yourself off as twenty-three?” Brooke said, tucking her ID card back in her wallet.

  “Hey, it was good enough to get us in here,” Tess said, sipping her drink. “This was your idea.”

  They were both nineteen. Underage. And while Tess had wanted to go to an on-campus party, Brooke had convinced her to sneak into the Chapel instead.

  “Your boyfriend was right. The guy at the door wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Brooke said, looking up in time to catch a glimpse of Jesse Morgan holding court. Halfway down the bar, he handed an older woman her drink. There was nothing subtle about the hungry look on the woman’s leathery face as she eyed him, and Brooke frowned.

  Assessing the situation in a flash, Tess leaned into her and shouted, “Careful, girls, tanning kills.”

  Brooke laughed. She drained the few remaining drops of alcohol from her glass and winced. At least Jesse wasn’t skimping on the vodka. Three drinks in and already she felt as if she were floating on a soft cloud rather than sitting on a hard barstool.

  “Not your boyfriend, eh?” Tess said. “Why not? He’s cute.”

  Brooke shrugged. “We’ve got a history. We sort of dated in high school.”

  “What do you mean, sort of dated?” An eyebrow arched in Tess’s pixie face. As always, she wanted to hear all the juicy details, but Brooke dropped her gaze to the empty glass and shook her head.

  “My mom didn’t like him. Said he was too old for me. After graduation he moved away and I hadn’t heard a word from him until a few days ago.”

  “Okay, so Prince Charming shows up looking this good, and you’re telling me you’re just friends?” Tess flashed a wicked grin. “I suppose that’s why you’re dressed like that. Because you’re just friends.”

  Brooke glanced down at her sequined tank top, matchstick jeans, and high heels. “What, this old thing?” she said, and both girls laughed.

  Brooke watched Jesse shake up the next cocktail and pour it into a chilled martini glass, this time for a curvy brunette. The girl said something and Jesse smiled. Brooke remembered that smile—the dimples carved into his cheeks. And how his eyes, as blue as a tropical sea, could make you feel like you were the only girl on earth. She missed that. She missed him.

  Tess propped her chin on her palm, nudging Brooke with her shoulder.

  “Earth to Brooke. Maybe you need to give him a reason to notice you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Look around. The place is packed with gorgeous guys. Find one to flirt with.”

  Tess had a point. There was no shortage of hot guys crowding the bar.

  “Most are here with their Barbie-doll girlfriends,” she said.

  “Don’t let that stop you. You look hot, girl. You shouldn’t waste it. So if Prince Charming is too busy to notice, find someone else. I’m even willing to play Cupid.”

  “Wait, you’re going to pick out a guy for me?” Brooke asked, wishing she had a full drink in front of her. “No offense, Tess, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  Brooke grinned. “It may surprise you to know that we don’t exactly have the same taste in men.”

  “Or women.”

  A wicked glint twinkled in her roommate’s eyes, and Brooke shook her head.

  “You’re so bad. Okay. You remember the last guy you hooked me up with?”

  God. What a disaster that was.

  “Yeah, he had that thing about picking his nose,” Tess said.

  “I could have dealt with the nose thing, but when the police crashed our date to arrest him on an open bench warrant . . .”

  “Come on, he wasn’t that bad.”

  “Tess, he was a felon.”

  A sheepish smile spread across her friend’s face. “Okay, you got me there, but everyone’s allowed an off day.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “The next one’s a can’t-miss, right?”

  Brooke laughed and shook her long blonde curls over her shoulders. Tess laughed too. It was getting late, and Brooke swung her gaze back toward Jesse, wishing that just once he would glance her way. He didn’t though. He was too busy fist-bumping some guy when she heard a man’s voice close beside her.

  “Hey, beautiful, buy you a drink?”

  Brooke glanced around. A brawny guy leaned against the bar, staring straight at her. He had a boxer’s face with a crooked nose, like the kind that had been broken more than once. She shied away from the cloud of beer breath wafting her way.

  “No thanks. I’m good,” she said, turning back toward Tess.

  “Anything you want. Sky’s the limit. The name’s Sully. Charles Sully.”

  Brooke groaned. Really? Could this night get any worse? She pulled out her phone, pretending to read a text message.

  “No thanks,” she said again, sounding distracted.

  She hoped the dismissal would send the guy packing, but she could still feel him standing beside her.

  “You’re not one of those stuck-up girls who thinks she’s too good to talk to a nice guy like me, are you?”

  She wasn’t trying to be a bitch, but he wasn’t her type, and there was something about the look in his eyes she didn’t like. Brooke searched for something to say, some kind of polite brush-off that wouldn’t upset him.

  Her roommate saved her the trouble.

  Tess smacked her hand solidly on top of Brooke’s. Quick as lightning, she snatched Brooke’s phone off the bar and stuck it directly in Sully’s face. The flash flared, and the phone’s camera clicked, recording his ruddy image. Light glinted off the stud in Tess’s eyebrow.

  Easing forward, Tess eyed Sully with a hard look.

  “Back off, shit-for-brains, she’s with me.”

  Sully’s thick lips parted in a predatory grin. Brooke caught a glimpse of sharp incisors. She inched closer to Tess.

  “That’s okay, bitch. I’m man enough for both of you.”

  “I doubt that,” Tess said.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a voice, deep and male, said behind them.

  Brooke spun, looking up into his face. Her stomach lurched. Talk about Prince Charming. He was gorgeous. Six feet tall, he had a lean, muscular build. Straight nose. Angular cheekbones. There was something oddly familiar about him, like maybe she had seen him on campus.

  His chocolate-brown eyes locked on hers. She searched for something to say, but her mind went blank. As usual, Tess didn’t miss a beat.

  “It’s about time you got here,” she said, sounding annoyed.

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. Is everything okay?”

  He turned his steady gaze on Charles Sully’s broad face. Sully stared back. Brooke’s stomach tightened another notch as the two men eyed each other like a pair of pit bulls facing off.

  “Have we got a problem here?” the newcomer asked.

  Jaw clenched, Sully looked away. He pushed off of the bar and dissolved into the crowd.

  Brooke’s heart still pounded. She was glad Sully was gone. He might not have scared Tess, but there was something about him that had set he
r nerves on edge.

  “Thanks,” Brooke breathed.

  “Looked like you could use a hand.”

  “You can say that again. That fuck-wad wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Tess rolled her eyes.

  “I was kind of hoping he’d make a thing of it.”

  “I’m Tess, by the way, and this is Brooke.”

  Brooke smiled.

  “So, ladies, who do I have to screw to get a drink around here?” he asked, shifting his gaze away from Brooke to the bar.

  “Unfortunately, that guy.”

  Brooke hooked a thumb toward Jesse, stationed at the far end of the bar. The handsome stranger grinned and raised his hand to flag down the nearest bartender. She caught a flash of gold and red, and her gaze lingered on his ring. It was old. Unusual. Like a class ring, with a dark-red stone embedded in a thick gold band.

  A strong sense of déjà vu tickled the back of Brooke’s brain. She knew him from somewhere. She tried to think, but her brain was still foggy from the last cosmo she’d inhaled. The memory refused to click into place—maddeningly aloof, like a word poised on the tip of her tongue. She shook her head.

  Tess hopped off of her barstool.

  “Where are you going?” Brooke hissed, grabbing her arm.

  “To the ladies’ room. Why? Do you want to watch?”

  Brooke released her grip and Tess winked. Gone in a flash, she was swallowed up by the crowd. The guy shouted his drink order to a skinny bartender with a neck tattoo and a scruffy hipster beard.

  “Want anything?” he asked.

  “A cosmo.”

  Before he’d shown up, she’d been thinking it was time to go. Now Brooke didn’t see the harm in staying for one more drink.

  Her phone buzzed on the bar. She picked it up and read the new text.

  Go for it. If you don’t, I will.

  Tess.

  She glanced around, looking for her partner in crime, but the press of bodies made it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. Brooke tucked the phone back in her pocket, hoping he hadn’t seen the text.

  “What did you say your name was?” he asked.

  “Brooke Parker.”

  She held out her hand. His grip was warm and strong. A shiver of electricity passed through her at his touch. A memory clicked into place, and just like that, she had it. She remembered who he was.

  “You’re Andy. I knew I recognized you.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, craning his head back toward her.

  “Andy, right?”

  All at once his expression changed. His eyes narrowed and she was caught by the intensity of his stare. Brooke blushed. The fact that she embarrassed so easily was infuriating, but she couldn’t look away either. Her gaze focused on the taut line of his mouth. He glanced at the balcony. Then he smiled.

  “Brooke Parker. It’s been a long time. Look at you. All grown up.”

  His eyes roved over her slowly, appreciatively, triggering another infuriating blush.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself, Andy.”

  He tipped his head close and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “I go by Drew now.”

  His warm breath tickled her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

  “Are you here with your girlfriend?” she asked, half dreading the answer.

  “Are you?” he asked, looking amused.

  “Tess is my roommate. It looks like she’s abandoned me though.”

  “Your stalker hasn’t.” He glanced across the bar.

  Sully’s acid glare was fixed on the two of them. Goosebumps prickled Brooke’s arms. Andy—or was it Drew?—placed his hand on her back. The warmth of his touch burned through her thin tank top, and for a moment she forgot all about her stalker and Jesse. Brooke inched closer to him.

  “Mom will be so surprised when I tell her I saw you. Kelly has a music recital tomorrow afternoon. Why don’t you come with me? I mean, if you’re not doing anything. I know Mom would love to see you.”

  “Let’s play it by ear,” he said, squeezing her shoulder.

  She pulled out her phone, aimed it at him. He raised a hand in front of his face.

  “What are you doing?”

  Playfully she batted it away and snapped a photo. It wasn’t the best picture. The low light made it a little blurry, but it didn’t matter. She could tweak it later.

  “Well, if you’re not going to come to the recital, I need evidence that you actually do exist.”

  He stared down into her upturned face and smiled. His warm fingers brushed her skin, unleashing a torrent of butterflies in the pit of her stomach as he drew the MedicAlert dog tags from beneath the neckline of her tank top.

  Running his thumb overtop of the caduceus medical symbol etched into the front face, he frowned. “What’s this?”

  Her cheeks burned. She hated this—admitting she had a condition. Waiting for the inevitable look of shock on someone else’s face. Or worse, their pity.

  “I’m diabetic.”

  She’d expected a look from him that said she was broken, but his expression didn’t change. Letting go of the dog tags, he let them fall against her chest.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, Brooke Parker, but I’ve had enough of this place for one night. Where’s your little friend?”

  Brooke shrugged. Tess was doing a good job of making herself scarce.

  “I hate to sound all big brother on you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t stay here alone, not with your stalker lurking close by.”

  “Big brother. That’s funny.”

  He grinned and cast his gaze across the crowded bar. Brooke didn’t have to follow the trajectory of his stare to know whom he was talking about.

  “You can’t leave. You just ordered drinks,” she said.

  “And they’re not going to get here anytime this century. I’m out of here.”

  “Okay.” The tightness in her muscles was a subtle warning that her blood sugars were on the rise. She could use a shot of insulin. “You’re probably right. It’s time to go. Do me a favor and walk me outside?”

  “Sure.”

  The crowd parted around Andy as he made for the exit. After grabbing her coat and purse from a hook underneath the bar, Brooke followed in his wake. He glanced up toward the balcony. Brooke looked up too, but no one seemed to be looking their way.

  They stepped outside into the brisk night. Brooke shivered. The denim jacket that had looked so perfect in her dorm room did little to ward off the chilly night air. She pulled the phone from her pocket and launched an app to summon a ride back to campus.

  “Shit,” Drew said, stopping dead in his tracks. “I left something at the bar. You’ll be all right?”

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  He turned and jogged back inside, leaving her alone on the stairs. Brooke tucked the phone back into her pocket. It was darker out here than she’d expected. The sparse line of streetlights did little to penetrate the inky blackness around her. The one closest to the parking lot was out. Broken glass littered the pavement below. A cold wind ruffled her hair, and she folded her arms across her midriff.

  The door opened. There was a burst of laughter and clicking high heels, then nothing but the gentle buzz of cars zipping by. Brooke glanced behind her and took a couple more steps away from the stairs.

  It was creepy out here in the dark.

  Brooke glanced at her phone, checking the time, wishing her ride would hurry up. It was cold, and she didn’t like being out here alone. She glanced back toward the doors, knowing she’d feel a whole lot safer with Drew by her side.

  The deep growl of a car engine roared close behind her. Startled, Brooke stepped back. A car squealed out of the parking lot in a flash of green and black. Tires squawked to a halt. Red taillights flared. Her pulse raced.

  The car backed up. The window lowered. She recognized his crooked nose.

  Chapter 3

  The high, airy sound of the flute faded, consumed by the deeper, ea
rthy strains of the cello. The final notes settled in the darkened auditorium, and Marissa Rooney pressed a button on her cell phone. The digital display sprang to life. The woman beside her glowered, but Marissa ignored her. No new messages. Sighing, she flipped the phone facedown in her lap and brushed a hand over the empty seat beside her, the one she had saved for her daughter, Brooke.

  The house lights rose and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Proud parents sprang to their feet. The conductor and the members of the Renton High School Orchestra bowed in unison, accomplishment and pride shining in their faces.

  Marissa felt exposed in the bright glare from the overhead lights. She watched the couple in front of her. His fingers stroked the woman’s hair, golden brown tinged with gray. She nestled close to him, her shoulder brushing his chest. They turned and looked at each other. And such a look. Pure devotion. The woman smiled and Marissa averted her gaze.

  No one had ever looked at her that way. She had been married three times, and never once had any of her lovers gazed at her with such naked adoration. Perhaps it was the kind of look you earned only after years of enduring life’s triumphs and trials together, or maybe the woman was just plain lucky, having met the right man at the right time. Whatever it was, Marissa was sure she would never know that kind of love.

  She turned away from the stage and searched the back rows to see if Brooke had slipped in at the start of the performance. Just yesterday they’d exchanged texts confirming the time and place, so it wasn’t like Brooke could have forgotten.

  Why wouldn’t she at least send a text? Irritated, Marissa slid the phone into a front pocket of her jeans.

  All around her, families congratulated students on their performances. Colorful bouquets of fresh flowers were given and received. Marissa frowned. She should have brought Kelly flowers. She was never any good with that stuff, and maybe it was just as well; flowers were a luxury she couldn’t afford on their tight budget.

  Marissa stood amid the crowd, solitary and empty-handed. Surely she wasn’t the only one who’d come alone? But everywhere she looked she saw families—mothers with their daughters, fathers with their sons, grandparents and siblings.

  All she had were her two girls, and with Brooke starting college and Kelly giving her the cold shoulder, she’d never felt more alone.