Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy Book 3)

by Sophie Davis

  But first, I wanted to confront both the Kingsleys. I wanted to look them in the eyes and tell them how I felt about them—that what they’d done to their daughter was unacceptable, and that if they wanted someone to blame for their impending legal issues all they needed to do was look in the mirror. I wanted them to know what was coming. To feel the fear that Lark must have felt just before she was taken back to Montauk that last time. To know their freedom was in jeopardy and that there was nothing they could do about it.

  “Raven!” When Asher repeated my name for a third time, he sounded panicked.

  “Sorry,” I said calmly as I stopped pacing and faced him. Our eyes locked, and something akin to understanding sparked in Asher’s gaze.

  “Lila?” he asked hesitantly.

  “No, it’s me,” I said, but that wasn’t entirely true. Lila was there, too. Not lurking in the shadows or riding shotgun, but there in the driver’s seat with me—lending me the extra strength that I needed to go forward with what ultimately might prove a foolish idea. Even Lark stirred inside of me, her voice urging me on.

  “I’m ready to speak with your FBI guy,” I told Asher.

  “Okay….” Again he drew out the word as though needing those extra milliseconds before listening to whatever crazy plan I’d concocted.

  “Can you set up a meeting for Sunday, or Monday at the latest?” I asked.

  Asher crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll try. But it’s Thursday. Why the wait?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Because the Kingsleys will be in D.C. on Saturday.”

  He didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Or his concern. “How do you know that?”

  “Because, it’s the last day the fake diamond will be on display at the Smithsonian.”

  The look on Asher’s face said it all: he thought I’d cracked completely.

  I’ve never felt more in control, I thought.

  “The museum is hosting a black-tie reception, invite only. One last viewing of the Kingsley Diamond for all the important people who can’t be bothered to go see it with the common folk.”

  Understanding, true understanding, registered in Asher’s expression. “David isn’t going to allow this.”

  We stared at each other, neither of us wanting to blink first. But Asher was no match for me, or more accurately, for Lark, Lila, and me. When he finally looked away, I smiled smugly, and said, “It’s your job to make sure he doesn’t find out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  RAVEN

  By Thursday evening, my living room looked more like a command center than a sitting area. Adam hadn’t been shocked to hear from me again so soon, but my invitation, and subsequent request that he bring his boyfriend, had come as something of surprise. Nonetheless, Adam was a loyal friend, and he, Gabe, and Gabe’s illicit laptop arrived promptly at eight p.m. A freshly-showered, and extremely handsome, Blake wasn’t far behind. The three guys listened without interruption as I explained each of their roles in executing my plan. As expected, they had a lot of questions, and I received quite a few dubious looks.

  “How does Asher feel about this?” Blake asked when I was finished.

  Annoyed, I responded with a glare.

  “Sorry. I’m here to help no matter what,” he apologized quickly. “If this is what you want, count me in. It’s just…I…I don’t want to lose you again.” Blood rushed to his cheeks and he glanced guilty at his lap, where he was wringing his hands. It took Blake a full thirty seconds to meet my eyes again. “I know you’re Raven. I do. But I see Lark in you.” The color in his cheeks deepened. “Maybe this sounds stupid, but right now more than ever, I can feel her there with you.”

  Blake, Adam, and Gabe were still on the couch. I stood on the other side of the coffee table, like a teacher lecturing her pupils. As though his feet had a mind of their own, Blake stood and joined me. It was as though he’d forgotten about my other guests, or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, he cupped my chin in his hands and ran his thumbs along my cheekbones. Emerald eyes stared down into my brown ones intently.

  I love you so much, I thought. But it wasn’t my voice inside my head. It was Lark’s. And she was there with me, even more so than earlier in the day. I felt her clawing her way to the forefront of our shared mind, and I didn’t resist. She still needed me, so I knew my time wasn’t up quite yet. Closing my eyes, I willed her to the surfaces.

  “Hey, you.” My voice was soft, gentle, and not truly my own.

  Blake’s lips stretched into a wide smile, and his entire body seemed to relax. He opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head before saying, “I have missed you so much.”

  Warmth spread through my chest. I, Raven, had never felt love like this before. I’d never felt any emotion like this before. I considered retreating into the darkness, to allow Lark the luxury of time alone with her boyfriend.

  No! Stay. I can’t. You need to be the one.

  Blake’s lips met mine. The kiss was…sweet, but powerful. It was as though he put everything he couldn’t say into that single, perfect moment. Tears filled my eyes. I didn’t know if it was Lark or me who needed to cry. My head started to swim as the darkness inched closer. One of us needed to leave. Sharing the driver’s seat couldn’t last. For a second, I debated whether to ignore Lark’s pleas and run for the shadows. I was so tired. Being the passenger, if only briefly, didn’t sound so bad.

  Before I could make my escape, Lark faded away, and I was left alone kissing Blake. Our lips broke apart, and he wiped the tears from my cheeks. When our gazes locked, disappointment shone in Blake’s eyes. A brief sense of loss washed over me but disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, averting my eyes.

  Blake shook his head. “Don’t be.” Strong arms wrapped me in a gentle hug. It took me a minute, but finally I returned the gesture. Though not nearly as emotional or powerful as the kiss, hugging Blake felt nice. It gave me peace and security, both of which were shorter and shorter supply these days.

  We pulled back from one another at the same time, which was when I remember that we had spectators. Wiping the last of the tears from my face, I cleared my throat and turned to Adam and Gabe. The guys both wore sad smiles, but neither seemed uncomfortable—or freaked the eff out—by PDA. Blake cleared his throat as he returned to the couch.

  “So, where were we?” I asked, my head still a little fuzzy and my legs a little unsteady.

  “I think you were about to explain how we all,” Adam gestured to each of the guys in turn, “fit into your nutso plan.”

  “Right, right.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Okay, um, well Adam, I was sort of hoping you could get onto the guest list.” Wrinkling my nose, I watched his stunned expression with trepidation.

  He seemed to consider my proposal, a variety of emotions that I couldn’t decipher flashing behind his caramel eyes. Finally, Adam nodded, as though he’d finally wrapped his mind around my plan, and didn’t find it nearly as “nutso” as he had just moments ago. “Yeah, okay. I can do that. I’m guessing you also want me to get a plus one?”

  I sighed with relief. “Yes. That would be ideal.”

  “Alright, it shouldn’t be too hard. I’m pretty sure my dad was invited. Last time we had dinner he did mention he’d be down here for some museum thing.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Step one almost complete, I thought.

  I turned to Gabe. His task wasn’t strictly speaking legal. I hated to ask so much of a guy I barely knew, but he’d already been roped into my mess. “I need you to do a few things,” I began, and then hesitated for a second before continuing. “Firstly, can you get me the guest list?”

  Gabe snorted, looking a little offended. “Easy peasy. Can I ask why?”

  “I just want to be prepared. In addition to Phillip and Eleanor Kingsley, there are likely a lot more invitees that know Lark. I need to know who to avoid,” I replied.

  “Got
it. What else do you need?” Gabe asked, sound matter of fact.

  He doesn’t beat around the bush. That’s good.

  “You’re still working on the Montauk investigation, right?” I asked, just to be sure.

  Gabe nodded. “It’s tough. I’m not gonna lie. Military-grade encryption is pretty intense.”

  “Can you crack it?” I asked bluntly.

  Again, Gabe appeared offended, bringing his hand to his chest as though he couldn’t believe I’d doubt him. “Oh, definitely. I’ve cracked harder. It just takes time.”

  “I understand.” My smile came across as more of a grimace. “I really appreciate this. I know you’ve had some trouble with the law…if you’d rather—”

  Gabe held up a hand to stop me. “When I was younger, I hacked for fun.” He shrugged. “Mostly stupid stuff, you know just to see if I could. But this,” he gestured to his computer, “this shit matters. It’s real life. I’m all over it.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping it sounded genuine, which it was. I knew I was asking a lot of him. And I was about to ask a lot more. “I do have one more favor….” I trailed off, pursing my lips as I watched him quirk an eyebrow. “I need you to put together the important videos from Lark’s USB—the ones that talk about Kingstown—along with a letter that I will write, detailing Kingsley Diamonds corruption. Then, I need you to make enough copies for every news outlet—maybe even some bigger bloggers?—to have the story. For the biggies like the Washington Post, New York Times, and New York Post, I want them sent both physical copies and digital ones.” I held up one finger. “But, I only want you to send the packages if something happens to me on Saturday.” A thought occurred to me, and I added, “Maybe if you can setup an auto-delivery for the digital packages that can be cancelled if need be, just in case.”

  “Raven,” Blake interrupted, pulling my attention from Adam’s boyfriend to Lark’s. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to confront your—the Kingsleys. It’s not—”

  “It is,” I cut him off. “I need to do this. I know the risk.”

  “I understand,” he began again, and again I cut him off.

  “No, Blake, no offense, but you don’t.” I met his gaze levelly and saw pain in his beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I have to do this. For me. For Lark. For closure.”

  Closing his eyes, he nodded slowly, acceptance finally setting in. “Okay, what do you need from me?”

  What did I need from him? Honestly, I just wanted his support. Blake was my rock. Maybe it was Lark peeking through, maybe it was the way he looked at me, maybe it was because he’d defended me when Asher was so ready to pump sedatives into my veins.

  “You know,” he began, looking thoughtful, “I bet I could get a job as a waiter for the event. That way I can be there.”

  “Dude that’s totally unnecessary. I can just add you guys to the guest list,” Gabe interjected.

  “No,” I said hurriedly. Gabe turned to me, clearly confused. Understandable, since it was the easiest option. “Eleanor Kingsley is a control freak when it comes to parties. She will have memorized the guest list. She’ll know if there is someone on there that doesn’t belong. I don’t want to chance it.” Turning my attention back to Blake, I said, “That is such a kind offer….” I trailed off. I did want Blake there. He would protect me. With him watching over me, no one would be able to take me. It was a naïve belief, and yet I held onto it like a girl lost at sea does an anchor.

  “Looks like they’re using Capitol Catering,” Gabe said, interrupting my musings. I hadn’t even noticed that he had his computer in his lap until that moment.

  “Awesome. I’m sure for an event like this they need extra help. I’ll contact them first thing tomorrow,” Blake promised.

  A tiny giggle escaped my lips, and I tried to suppress the urge to break out in a laughing fit. “Have you ever, um, worked?” I asked as all three guys stared at me like I was a little bonkers.

  “No,” Blake admitted with shrug. “But how hard can it be? Cater waiters just hold trays and offer hor d’oeuvres and alcohol. I am totally capable of handing out champagne and Tuscan Mushrooms or whatever.”

  I wasn’t the only one who looked doubtful, but Blake was determined, and so I agreed to his amendment to my plan. “If you’re sure….” I trailed off, and Blake smiled encouragingly. “Okay, thank you. I really mean it. Having you there….” I couldn’t give voice to my thoughts.

  “I know,” Blake replied, his expression now serious.

  For several long, awkward seconds, the only sound in the apartment was the tapping of keys as Gabe worked his magic. I stared at my hands, at the lifelines that were a lie. Saturday could very well be my last. Even if I was lucky enough to make it out of that museum on my own terms…. On Monday, I would meet with Asher’s FBI contact—he had yet to confirm the date, but I had high hopes—and then my mission would be complete. I would have finished what Lark started. I, Raven, would no longer have a purpose.

  “There’s one thing I’m still confused by,” Adam said, breaking the tension in the room. “Where’s this Asher I keep hearing so much about? You aren’t,” he hesitated, narrowing his gaze. “You aren’t thinking of doing all this behind his back, are you?”

  “No, not at all,” I replied quickly. “He’ll be here in a little while. I just wanted to talk to you guys first. But,” I turned to Gabe, “I don’t want Asher knowing that we’re investigating Montauk.”

  “No worries on that front. My lips,” Gabe mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth, “are sealed.”

  “Good. Thank you,” I said, grateful for everything he was doing.

  “I have a question, too,” Blake spoke up.

  “Yes?” I asked, a little unnerved by his intense expression.

  Blake adjusted his posture, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees as he gazed at me. “So, best case scenario, on Saturday you confront your—Lark’s parents, and we,” he gestured between Adam and himself, “get you out of that museum before the cavalry arrives. Then, on Monday you meet with the FBI and turn over all the evidence Lark collected. What happens next?”

  I shuddered as images filled my head unbidden.

  The hallway was long and narrow. My head was full of cotton, and every step took effort, as though my feet were encased in concrete. I had to keep moving, though. I had an appointment with David. A tall blonde woman walked beside me. She placed her hand on the small of my back to speed my progress. When I cocked my head to the side and looked up at her, the cursory glance she gave me in return was indifferent.

  Finally, we reached a door. It wasn’t David’s office. I should’ve realized that wasn’t our goal. The hallway was all wrong. It was more clinical than the one with David’s office. The woman knocked three times and then waited until she received a muffled, “Come in.” As she scanned her badge, I truly glanced at my surroundings. My throat felt tight, like I’d suddenly come down with strep. One of the drugs they gave me was a sedative—that was the only explanation for the haze clouding my brain—and yet my heart began to pound, and my muscles started to twitch.

  The door opened with a whoosh. The woman—Joanie?—pushed hard on my back, urging me inside. I didn’t want to enter, and yet I didn’t resist either. Panic set in. Some part of me knew, even before I saw the chair—a cross between the kind you find at the dentist and one only located in a mad scientist’s lab—that experiments, procedures took place inside those four walls.

  “It’s okay, Lark,” a male voice called. “It’s just a treatment. You’ve had them before.”

  I recognized his voice: David. But he wasn’t alone. Asher stood beside the chair, and a man I knew from my therapy sessions—the Hawk—sat in the corner. The Hawk followed me with his dark eyes as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

  “Thank you, Joanie. You may leave,” David said to my escort.

  Joanie simply nodded in reply, and then turned to leave. The door closed behind her with a
soft click.

  Trapped. I’m trapped.

  The thought nearly sent me into hysterics. But before I could breakdown, Asher was by my side. He took my arm and led me to the chair. His touch was light but reassuring. I liked him. He was nice to me.

  “How are you today, Lark?” Asher asked as I sat on the soft cushion seat cushion.

  My legs felt leaden, and I couldn’t muster the strength to lift them off the ground. Asher placed two hands beneath my calves and guided my legs onto the chair. When I didn’t lean back all the way, he gave my shoulders a gentle nudge of encouragement. Not ready to let down my guard, and yet too drugged to struggle, I let my head and torso fall back but my muscles remained rigid. Asher stared down at me, his questioning gaze underscored with concern.

  He asked you a question, I reminded myself.

  “Fuzzy,” I replied, my lips barley moving.

  Asher’s smile was full of understanding. “That’ll happen.” He patted my arm. “Just try to relax. Lay back, get comfortable, settle in. We’ll get started soon.”

  I tried to nod but my head was too heavy, and it just fell back against the headrest. Asher walked over to a bank of monitors, where David was entering settings on a keyboard.

  “I think her meds are too high,” I heard Asher say, his voice just loud enough to reach my ears.

  “She’s on the standard dosage,” David replied.

  I watched the two men out of the corner of my eye, but my real focus was on the Hawk. Why was he here? He never observed these sessions.

  “She’s a zombie,” Asher snapped.

  David finally looked up. “She is on the standard dosage,” he repeated firmly.

  Ashe rolled his eyes but didn’t press the issue.

  As I watched the Hawk, the Hawk watched me. His expression gave nothing away, and neither did mine. Of course, my blank face was drug-induced, his was practiced. And then, for the first time in our acquaintance, the Hawk spoke. His voice was commanding, the kind that demanded respect like that of a drill instructor or police officer.