Love in the Dark

by 12 Book Boxed Set (epub)

  He stands up, nostrils flaring. He clenches his jaw so tightly that I can hear his teeth grinding.

  “You can donate it or do whatever you want. That’s only the beginning. He has to pay.” He slams the table. “Corbin Stanley deserves to be in jail!”

  I take a step backward, my heart beating fast. This man, the Weston in front of me is unrecognizable. He’s thirsty for vengeance. I have no idea where I stand. Where’s my Wes? The guy who’d be taking me into his arms and telling me that no matter what, I’m his Abby.

  He’s in my head. He’s a figment of my imagination. The perfect guy I built out of desperation when I was on the edge, ready to kill myself. While I ran, I decided to be strong for myself. If I couldn’t save anyone, at least I should try to pull myself together.

  “This isn’t your problem,” I say calmly. “It’s mine to deal with.”

  “Children, stop this nonsense!” Sterling steps closer and gives me a note.

  “He hasn’t told me what’s going on,” Sterling says. “But assuming that your PTSD symptoms are worsening. My suggestion is to seek help from a professional, but know that I’m here to support you.”

  “I just want it to go away,” I wail in frustration. “Not remember what happened to Ava or to me. That part of my life is over.”

  “Done.” I collapse on the floor, beginning to cry. “It has to be over because if it’s not, he’s going to find me and torture me before he kills me.”

  I’m not afraid of dying but of how he’d do it. Breaking me emotionally, mentally, and physically until I couldn’t continue anymore. Then maybe he might pull the trigger. Unless he decided to torture me for as long as he lives.

  No matter how long I cry, the tears don’t stop. This time though, Wes scoops me into his arms. He cradles me for a long time without saying a word. I think he knows there’s nothing he can say to fix it. I’m beyond repair.

  Once I’m all cried out, I finally speak, “I want to leave today.”

  I move away from his hold, peeling myself off of him. If I continue depending on his strength, I won’t be able to stand on my own two feet.

  “Where?”

  “Denver,” I respond because I had a plan years ago that I should’ve followed through with when I saw what was happening to Ava. “Tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

  “We’re staying here. You don’t have to go back.”

  “I’m only going back to pack my things and change my bank accounts.” I clear my tears.

  “We can have someone do all of that for you,” he says.

  “No, I need my car,” I continue explaining. “Your dad left me a nice trust. I can start a new life with it. Away from the past and where no one knows me.”

  “Abby, please think about this.” His face goes ashen.

  “I am. I did for a long time. This is never going away, Wes.” I draw circles around my temples with my index fingers. “The PTSD as Sterling called it. Those scars are permanent. No amount of therapy will make me forget that she died because of me. That I couldn’t save her—or myself. I let them do horrible things to us.”

  “She wasn’t your responsibility. You’re here, and I want to help you.” Wes sounds and looks defeated.

  “Fix me,” I correct him.

  “No, Abby.”

  “Please, don’t lie to me. You’re already finding out about Corbin. Are you going to go to the police?”

  My voice rises. It booms through the house. “You’re just calling more attention toward me. He has friends everywhere. The man’s clients are powerful—politicians visited the house. He has leverage too. Corbin taped everything. You’ll put your family in danger.”

  “Abby, you can’t believe that.”

  “Are you calling me delusional?” My ears ring with anger. This can’t be happening. “You don’t believe me that they are dangerous, do you?”

  The one person I trusted, and he’s no different than everyone else. “Do you believe any part of what I said?”

  “Of course I do,” he answers.

  “Then stop what you’re doing. You’re already fixating on this, aren’t you?” I walk around the house.

  “This is who you are. The guy who gets obsessed with an imperfection and tries to find a way to make it functional.” My words fall out like a frantic mess, like frenzied bees shaken out of their nest. There has to be a way to stop him. Maybe I should leave him—them. They might be in danger.

  “I’m not a computer or some stupid gadget that’s broken. The good news is that I won’t be around for you to see my flaws.”

  “Abby,” he marches toward me.

  “Stop,” I order him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but your duty is done. Have you stopped to think that your behavior might be hurting me?”

  He stares at me. The silence sucks the air out of the room.

  “Abby, please. What’s going on? You can’t think about leaving. You promised,” he says with a shaky voice. “I swore to protect you.”

  “Just let me go,” I plead.

  Weston takes a step back. My decision to leave isn’t a light one. I won’t be safe unless I disappear. And what if Corbin and Shaun decide to hurt Wes and his family to get to me? Am I being delusional and paranoid? My mind is in turmoil, I can’t think straight. I should just leave. A trip to Canada or Mexico might be in order. I could stay there for a few months while I look for a place to call home.

  I pack a few things and call an Uber, but as I make my way to the stairs, Sterling is there holding the kennel in one hand and his duffle bag in the other.

  “Ready?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back home,” he says. “Denver.”

  “That poor dog is going to hate you,” I point at Terry who is playing with a bone.

  “Nah, he loves it.”

  Wes is nowhere to be found. I’m both relieved and saddened.

  “If you’re looking for my brother, he’s in the car.”

  My shoulders sag because I don’t think I can survive a flight with him.

  Sterling adds, “He’s driving us to the airport. Unless, you want to stay with him and fix your relationship.”

  I deflate at his suggestion. Wouldn’t it be nice?

  “Slugger, that’s not possible. He wants someone who doesn’t exist. I tried to be her, but … I can’t.”

  Sterling shakes his head. “Go where I told you. Find out who you want to be.”

  He says it as if it’s so simple. It’s much more complicated than just talking about my feelings and starting meds to kill my anxiety. I don’t tell him anything. Maybe he’s right and this place can give me peace. That’s all I need.

  The drive to the airport is quiet. This kind of thick silence that sucks the air around us and poisons the soul. Tensing against the shaking of my limbs is useless, but I do it instinctively, trying to suppress the sadness that’s overwhelmingly painful. I need a drink to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf me. On second thought, I should stop drinking so much. It numbs my mind only for a few hours and then everything comes back sharper and more painful.

  Wes parks the car by the curve. I rush out taking my bag from the trunk and securing my purse over my shoulder. Before I take a step forward, I turn around and meet his gaze. He’s staring at me, his eyes filled with moisture.

  “Thank you,” I say, swallowing my feelings and all the tears. “For everything. You were my rock since the day I met you. I wish ...”

  What do I wish?

  I have no idea anymore.

  For him to give me one last hug.

  I wish for one last kiss.

  For him to accept me and love me the way I really am.

  I don’t want him to fix me but to accept my brokenness, as he called it last night.

  “It’s killing me,” he mumbles. “Will you ever come back to me?”

  Would you ever love me the way I am?

  He scans my face waiting for an answer. Silence hangs in the air like the suspe
nded moment before falling glass shatters on the ground. I chew my lip unsure of what to say. Any response might be a freaking lie.

  I open my mouth, but I can’t form any words.

  “I’m still yours, Abby,” he cries out loud. “Forever.”

  I love you, I swallow the words.

  “Take care, Wes.” Detaching myself from my feelings, I say, “Please, don’t do anything stupid. Let the dead rest in peace.”

  37

  Wes

  Numb, I drive back to the house just to make sure that everything was closed properly and leave instructions for the management service. I request a deep clean of the place, plus emptying the refrigerator and covering the furniture. We won’t use the house until Abby comes back. I can’t be in Tahoe without her.

  We’ll be back though. There’s no fucking way that I’ll let her leave me without a fight. We belong together. I just need to figure out what to do to fix us. I book my ticket and go back to the airport.

  Once I arrive in Denver, Aaron takes me back home. My apartment is quiet. I hear Sterling across the hall calling Terry. At least I’m relieved knowing that my brother is with her. If there’s someone following her, which I doubt, she has Slugger beside her—keeping her safe.

  The next morning, I head to work. Around eight, I receive an email from HIB. Mason Bradley wants to meet in my offices at eleven. I check my watch and as I’m about to respond, I read it again.

  Mr. Ahern,

  I represent HIB. There are things we’d like to discuss regarding your inquiry. We’ll be in your offices at eleven. Make sure you’re available.

  M. Bradley

  He’s not requesting, but rather announcing his presence. It doesn’t sit well. Fuck if I’m going to let him just barge into my office. I send an email to cancel the meeting, but he doesn’t respond. I google the company, but everything redirects me to their website.

  “Hey, asshole.” Sterling knocks on the door as he enters.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I dropped off Abby and wanted to check on you.”

  I grit my teeth so hard, my jaw aches. She can’t just be gone. I hoped to see her one last time before she left.

  “She’s gone?” I thread a hand through my hair.

  “Oh, not yet. I’m borrowing her car.” He jingles the keys.

  “She’s leaving on Wednesday though,” he informs me. “She’s planning on driving northeast. She’s staying in Cleveland for a few days with a friend from college and then driving to Toronto.”

  “Is she in the building?” I stand up, putting on my jacket. Maybe I can change her mind about leaving me.

  “Yeah. She’s also transferring some files. I convinced her to work for me and keep the charity shit going since no one else has time and she genuinely cares.”

  “Grants,” I correct him. “Will she work for Mom?”

  “How would I know?” He shrugs one shoulder.

  “Abby’s been ignoring her calls. She feels like a poser for lying to her all these years.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” he warns me. “She’s feeling guilty about everything: keeping the truth from our parents, for Ava’s death. Survivor guilt is real and can make the person assume things that aren’t true.”

  “How do you know about it?” My mind is blown by everything that he’s been saying for the past few days.

  “My roommate during sophomore year had PTSD,” he says. “His brother committed suicide, and he found his body. I learned a lot from him while he was fighting his demons and trying to get better.”

  “How is he?”

  “It doesn’t go away if that’s what you’re expecting to hear. You learn to deal with it. We have to read about PTSD and learn how to help her.”

  “She’s leaving me,” I remind him.

  “For now. Maybe someday she’ll come back to you,” he sounds confident.

  I want to believe that what he says is true. Faith and hope, Mom says it all the time. That it’s all we have. Do we?

  Fuck. This isn’t about me, but I felt my entire world coming apart after she announced that she was leaving. Leaving me. I have no idea what to do for her or how to stop her from leaving.

  Then the answer hits me right in the head. Letting her go is the only way to help her. We’ve stopped her from leaving so many times. Ava, my parents … even me. If she had done it when she first thought of running, she’d be safe. She’d be free. I’m not going to be responsible for her sadness.

  “Sir,” Anita knocks on the door. “Your eleven o’clock is here.”

  I stiffen. Shit, for a minute I forgot about HIB.

  “Take them to the conference room.”

  “Well, I’m on my way out.” Sterling turns to the door and takes a step back when he sees two men outside my office. “Did you call the National Guard?”

  The men outside wear black cargo pants and plain black t-shirts. They’re in combat boots, buzz cuts, and the utility belts they wear seem to have several compartments, but neither one of them has a gun. I sigh with relief. I should tell Anita to keep security alert in case they become a problem.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ahern?” Abby is outside her office, glaring at the men as if they were scrawny and a foot shorter.

  “Consulting,” I answer, taking my jacket with me. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  “You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?” She puts her hands on her hip.

  “I explained to you that this isn’t child’s play.” Her hands drop to her sides, forming fists of tension, her chest leaning toward me. “Do you have any idea what could happen to your family, you, or even the company if he finds out?”

  She wags a finger at the men in front of us. “These clowns are powerless.”

  One of them, the guy with brown hair and dark green eyes glares at her, then looks at the other man. “She’s going to be a problem. We should’ve brought Luna along.”

  I frown. Who is this guy, and who the fuck is Luna?

  “Excuse me?” Abby glares at him then at me.

  She’s ready to kick my ass.

  “Mason Bradley,” the guy with black hair and gray eyes extends his hand. “This is Anderson Hawkins. I wish we had met under different circumstances, Miss Lyons.”

  “Weston Ahern,” I introduce myself, shaking his hand and blocking Abby from their view. “Please follow me.”

  Bradley nods and then smirks at my brother. “Mr. Ahern, my sister’s a huge fan. I’ll be in touch. She wants to commission a few pieces.”

  Sterling, who never misses a chance to hand out his card, does it without batting an eyelash. He’s not bothered by what just happened. These men know who we are and I haven’t given them any information yet.

  I scratch my head. What the fuck did I do?

  “Mr. Ahern, this is one of my partners, Anderson Hawkins. We oversee logistics and meet with the clients privately because it’s overwhelming when we bring the entire team to the first meeting. I assure you that our two other partners are working on this case as we speak.”

  “Who are you people?”

  “HIB is a private company that provides high-security.” Mason Bradley begins “I began HIB a few years back. My focus was on security systems for international banking and providing bodyguards for high profile individuals traveling abroad. We’ve since adapted to suit the needs of our clientele.”

  “I just needed some information,” I stop him right there before he sells me his company.

  The man must have run a background check on me, and he’s trying to bank. Fucker, he has no idea who he’s dealing with.

  “As we grew, we created several subdivisions, one of which is human trafficking,” He says, pulling out his phone and tapping it a few times. “The information you requested set off a few alarms in our system. My partners and I don’t accept many cases, but this is something that we’re passionate about—child exploitation.”

  He pushes his
phone my way with a picture of a middle-aged man, blonde hair. He’s fit, but not muscular.

  “This is your man. You called him Corbin Stanley. He has a few aliases, including Corbin Lyons.”

  “He’s not related to Abigail—”

  “We know,” he cuts me off. “He acquired the name once he married Olga Lyons. There were rumors that he ran an illegal operation out of his residence. Child pornography, drugs, even a prostitution ring too. It stopped after Mrs. Lyons and his daughter died.”

  “Ava’s death certificate says, Ava Lyons-Stanley,” he says taking his phone back. “Her birth name was Ava Gumbert. That’s Mr. Corbin’s first wife’s name.”

  No wonder it’s hard to find him. “Do you happen to know his real name?”

  “It’s Corbin Shelton. Ava had a twin brother. Shaun Gumbert.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “He lives here, in Colorado. We’re searching for his whereabouts. We know that he’s working with his father.” He scrunches his face. “Our people found him on the web using facial recognition software. Shaun was also exploited as a child and continues to work in the same line of business as Corbin.”

  I flinch.

  “The FBI is aware of this case,” Hawkins interjects. “Their people are working with us to bring down Corbin and his son. We endeavor to take down as many pictures of Ava and Miss Lyons as possible. Though you need to be aware that once a picture is uploaded, it is almost impossible to get rid of it entirely.”

  “They are still pictures circulating?”

  They both nod.

  “We found several servers that belong to Corbin,” Bradley explains. “In Russia and China. We’re planning on taking the sites down by the end of this week, but first we need to find him.”

  “He’s still exploiting children?”

  Bradley nods once. “I’m afraid so. Every day there are new videos and images uploaded to his websites. We have enough evidence to put him in jail.”

  This devastating news doesn’t sit well in my stomach. The guy is even worse than I thought.

  “What do you need from me?”

  They shake their heads. “Nothing. To stay out of his path. Ms. Lyons is right. The man is dangerous.”