Dark

by Aleatha Romig

  I’d been wrong in thinking that was what he meant.

  “See right on the tip.” He directed my eyes to his penis. “See how it’s still wet. Give it a kiss and lick away the wet. Good friends finish the job.”

  I couldn’t do it. It was right before me, but I couldn’t make myself do it.

  Until...

  “Oh, Lorna, maybe I was wrong about you. I’m sure Missy would do better. She’s a good girl.”

  No, I was strong. Grandma said I was. I could do this for Missy.

  Closing my eyes, I puckered my lips and leaned toward him. As I did, the odors made me want to gag. Instead, I held my breath. The instant my lips touched his private place, I felt the moisture and pulled away.

  “Yeah, that’s it. See, you can be good too.” He petted my head as if I was a dog or cat. “I like your kiss, Lorna. Now, I want you to lick it—like you would an ice cream cone. Once you do, then you can go to bed.”

  Dinner or something else bubbled in the back of my throat. My body trembled as I stuck out my tongue.

  The urge to spit and cough was right there, yet I didn’t.

  His hand came again to the top of my head. “Yeah, that’s so good. One more lick.”

  More tears spilled from my closed eyes as I obeyed.

  “What flavor of ice cream do you like?”

  What?

  “Tell me.”

  I leaned back. I hadn’t had ice cream since Grandma died. The lady from Children’s Services who took us away from her house gave all of us ice cream. It was vanilla inside a hard chocolate shell. “Strawberry,” I said.

  “That’s it,” he said, his yellow teeth smiling down at me. “It will be our secret-friend game. We’ll pretend you’re eating a strawberry ice cream cone. Go ahead and show me how good you lick.”

  I didn’t have it in me to protest. I’d gone this far. All I wanted was to be back in bed with my sister. My tongue went forward.

  His legs quivered.

  “Good girl. I’m very happy you want to be my secret friend.” Mr. Maples took a step back and offered me his hand.

  Not taking it, I stood. “Can I go now?”

  “This is our secret. Remember, if you tell, you’ll break our special friendship, and then I’ll need to find a new secret friend.”

  “I won’t tell. I promise.” The truth was I’d say anything at this moment to get away from him.

  “You know, your momma would be mad at you if she knew.”

  “Mad?”

  “Yep. She wants to be my only special friend. She doesn’t like to share, especially not with someone so much younger and prettier than her.” His lips came together as he shook his head. “Yep, she’d be hollering mad. I’d bet she might just want to make sure it don’t happen no more. She’d probably make sure.”

  “How?”

  “Send you off to foster care.”

  The chill returned to my skin.

  Mr. Maples reached for my shoulder. “Now, Lorna, I don’t want that. Do you?”

  “Away, without Mason and Missy?”

  “Yep. All by yourself.”

  The three of us had never been apart except for a very brief time after Grandma died. “No, please.”

  Mr. Maples pushed his penis back into his pants, zipped the zipper, and fastened his belt. He shrugged. “It’s your choice, Lorna. Once your momma sends you away, I’ll just have to teach Missy what I’m teaching you.”

  My head shook.

  Mr. Maples lifted his dirty fingers again to my hair and tugged on a curl. “I can teach you so much.” He tugged again on the curl. “Tell me you want to learn.”

  The words burned my throat and tongue. “I want to learn.”

  Walking past me, he opened the door to the living room. “Be quiet now, you don’t want to wake your momma. She’d be mighty upset about what you did.”

  My escape was in sight.

  Quietly, I hurried as fast as I could, barely glancing at my sleeping mother or the empty wine bottle. When I got to the second floor, I ran to the bathroom and shut the door. My cheeks were still wet from my tears, and my eyes were red around the green. Turning on the water, I cupped some in my hand and rinsed my mouth. Then I brushed my teeth and rinsed again. I loaded the toothbrush with more toothpaste and brushed again.

  Afraid of Mr. Maples hearing the shower, I took off my nightgown and using a washcloth and soap, cleaned myself. Even though he hadn’t touched me or seen below the nightgown, every inch of me felt dirty. I washed away the smell and even his stare. Over and over, I scrubbed my foot where the white liquid had fallen until the skin was red and raw. By the time I was satisfied, my crying and trembling had stilled.

  Slowly, I crept up the steps to the attic.

  “Where were you? What did he want?” Mason asked as I opened the door.

  “I was in the bathroom.”

  “What did Mr. Maples want?”

  “He made me clean up a mess.” It wasn’t a complete lie. At the same time, it was the least truthful I’d ever been with my brother.

  I told myself not to think about it.

  I wrapped my arms around my sister and with my lips near her hair, I cried myself to sleep as I told myself a blatant lie. “That didn’t happen. You are strong and a good sister, just like Grandma said. Don’t think about it. There won’t be a next time.”

  My new promise repeated until slumber finally came.

  Lorna

  Present day

  The door opened and Reid’s eyes met mine. They scanned me from head to toe. Each inch seemed as though he were trying to determine if I would survive the next hour, his gaze debating what could happen.

  I took a deep breath as he came closer. The emotion I’d seen up in the penthouse when he walked away was back, swirling in the depths of his eyes. No longer a soft shade of suede brown, darkness and uncertainty brought turbulence to his orbs. He reached for my damp hair.

  “You took another shower without me.”

  It was an odd statement, completely irrelevant, and yet it made me grin. “It was a bath and quicker than our shower.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted quick.”

  Shaking my head, I lowered my forehead to his chest as he gently kissed my hair.

  “Did you talk to Laurel?” His question reverberated through his wide chest as his strong arms gently came around me.

  I looked up. In the seconds we’d been close, the storm in his gaze had settled. I doubted it was over. If it were a hurricane, perhaps this was the center—the eye. But I knew better. The four men in our lives were out for blood, and a few days or even a week wouldn’t resolve this fight.

  “I did,” I answered.

  “Is that why...” He hesitated. “Who told you about the kit?”

  My feet moved me away from his embrace. “If your biggest concern right now is how I learned that a rape kit had been done on me without my consent, then I’m afraid you’re missing the forest for the trees.”

  “I consented,” he admitted, standing taller. “Laurel and the doctor said that it might not be possible after you woke. I consented, Lorna. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry this is even a fucking conversation. I’m not sorry I consented to something that could give you an answer if you ever decided you needed it.”

  Reaching up, I palmed his cheek. “I’m not mad at you. I’m glad you did it because that’s exactly what I need—answers.” I brushed my lips over his, warm and full. “Laurel told me that you said no one besides me could ask for the results.”

  “So that’s why you contacted Renita?”

  With a deep breath, I took another step back. “Yes and no. We were talking and I realized that I hadn’t thought of rape. It hadn’t occurred to me.” I wrapped my arms around myself. The clothes I’d worn to breakfast were gone. I was now wearing denim leggings and a soft shirt, all covered by a long sweater with fringe. With the position of my arms, the fringe tickled my hands.

  Reid’s eyes closed as he shook his head.
“What you said on the phone, wishing you could go back in time...” He walked toward the windows in our dining room and stared for a minute. “I’d fucking give up everything to make that come true.”

  “Everything?”

  “This” —he lifted his hands high— “money, power, all of it...to grant you that wish.”

  “And me too? You’d give me up?”

  His entire being turned my way, energy surging from his pores. “Fucking never, Lorna.”

  “I don’t want to give any of it up.”

  Reid’s head moved back and forth. “I can’t turn back time. Ask me for anything else, anything.”

  I walked closer, my sock-clad feet sliding on our tile floor as I reached for his hand. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Never. I told you that isn’t a possibility.”

  “Laurel told me what you said, about the results of this test not mattering.”

  Reid nodded.

  A lump came to my throat. No matter how many times I told myself I could handle whatever the future brought, I was failing. I wanted to know something, to have control over some single aspect of my missing past. And now I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision.

  What was it they say?

  Be careful what you wish for.

  “Reid, it will matter to me.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean the results don’t matter. I meant, to me. I love you. I will always love you. The results will matter because if...” —he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving up and down— “it happened, it’s my fault.”

  “If it happened,” I said, “I’ll need you beside me. I will need you to tell me and show me that I’m still loved, that you don’t see me as damaged, as less, as no one.”

  “Never. I told you, you’re a fighter. You’re not damaged.”

  “I’ll still need something else.”

  Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door.

  Reid looked down at me, his hands now at my waist. “Tell me what that is.”

  “I already did.”

  The knock came again.

  He didn’t move, not an inch. His grip of my waist solidified, unrelentingly holding me in place as his tumultuous stare continued.

  “I said it before. Don’t leave me. I don’t mean only physically in proximity. I mean here.” I lifted one finger to his temple. “I need you with me, not avenging me.”

  His lips came to mine, lingering longer than the time before.

  The door to our living room opened.

  Startled, we both turned.

  “Sorry,” Laurel said with a shy grin. “I knocked. I thought...well, Dr. Dixon called, and she’s in the garage. Reid, can you please give her access?”

  Letting go of my waist, he nodded as he walked to his office down the hallway. I had only seen the room I refer to as their command center or lair once and it wasn’t for long. My husband’s office in our apartment was nothing like that. This one was warm, even more than Sparrow’s in the penthouse. Reid’s love of books was evident as soon as you entered. Two walls were nothing but built-in bookcases filled to the brim. New books were piled here and there. He’d allowed me to add rugs with color and some artwork, but the rest was all him. His desk was often covered in papers and notes. In the corner was an old chair that was in need of replacement, yet he wouldn’t part with it. That was my husband and his space. He wouldn’t part with what he loved and what mattered.

  As I watched him walk away, I hoped that included me.

  Laurel reached for my arm. “Did you get any rest?”

  Taking a deep breath, I turned. “I don’t think much. I soaked for a while in a warm bath.”

  “That’s good.” Her smile turned more serious. “Just because Dr. Dixon has this information, it doesn’t mean you have to see or hear it.”

  “I do.”

  “No, Lorna. There is no timetable you’re required to maintain.”

  I peered toward the hallway to be sure Reid was still out of earshot. “I can’t explain what it’s like not to know things. I can’t even tell myself what did or didn’t happen. I just don’t know, and not knowing is making me question other things I either don’t know or have forgotten. It’s a spiral and I’m spinning out of control.”

  She shook her head. “You feel that you are.”

  I blinked away tears. “Yes.”

  “That alone is a sign you’re still in control.” When I didn’t respond, she went on, “A repeated question in psychology is very simple. Who needs the most help—the person who asks for it or the one who doesn’t? You see, the person who asks receives counseling or therapy. The one who doesn’t ask, who doesn’t recognize that there is something amiss, is the one who could need it the most.”

  “I know that I need control over something. I have no answers.” I rubbed my cool hands together. “The answer I get may not be what I want to hear, but I’ll have it. I might not remember an assault or how I responded or reacted, but I’ll know it happened. That may sound odd...”

  Reid’s footsteps came from the hallway.

  Laurel squeezed my arm. “I want you to know that you don’t sound odd. You sound strong. I don’t know how I would be if I were in your shoes. I can only hope I would be as formidable as you.” She grinned as Reid came closer. “And I would say by the empirical evidence before me, if there was a him, you gave him hell.”

  Reid placed his arm protectively around my waist. “She’s a world champion in my eyes.”

  A new knock came to our door.

  “That would be Renita,” Reid said.

  Laurel smiled. “I don’t know the results. I wanted you to know that.” She looked at Reid. “We took your instructions seriously.” Her gaze came back to me. “I’m going upstairs to help Madeline and Araneae with dinner. If you don’t feel like coming up to eat, text me. We’ll bring dinner down to you two.”

  I nodded as across the room, Reid opened the door.

  Renita Dixon had been a friend of the Sparrows since before I met Reid. As a matter of fact, she was at the ball where Reid and I met. I can’t remember if she was a fake date for Sparrow or Patrick. Either way, it was clear from that first meeting, she was a trusted soul. Not long after that ball, she finished her degree, earning the title of doctor. Next came her residency in cardiology.

  “Lorna,” she said with a bright smile.

  I returned her grin. Today she wasn’t dressed in her scrubs giving away her medical profession. She was simply a beautiful and knowledgeable woman wearing makeup that I didn’t usually see upon her dark complexion and a lovely light-pink pantsuit.

  Renita offered me her hand.

  As we greeted one another, I said, “You know, I was just thinking that you have an overqualified résumé for delivering lab results.”

  Her smile widened as her cheeks rose. “How are you?”

  “I’m in therapy or whatever it is Laurel does.”

  “That’s good. Is it helping?”

  “No, not really.”

  Reid wandered about in close proximity, doing as I asked and not leaving me as Renita and I chatted, creating, despite the circumstances, a sense of both familiarity and calm.

  In a way I couldn’t describe, just having my husband near as well as Dr. Dixon, the bearer of the answer I sought, beside me brought me a bit of comfort. I wasn’t going to learn what had happened from a stranger but from a friend. Truly, in the Sparrow world, the woman now seated in my home was one of my first female confidants.

  Dr. Dixon lifted a large magenta purse from the coffee table where she’d placed it upon sitting.

  “It’s in there?” I asked.

  Renita nodded. “I’m so glad you contacted me when you did. Robert and I have reservations for the symphony and with your location, this timing worked well.”

  Robert was her husband. While I didn’t know him well, he’d been at Reid’s and my wedding. And through the years, we’d crossed paths.

  “I’m so sorry to have upset your schedule
.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m happy to see you again. The last time you were a bit under the weather.”

  “Unconscious,” I offered.

  Renita nodded. “Reid.” She craned her neck from side to side.

  “I’m here,” he said, calling from the kitchen.

  “Lorna, I’m assuming you want Reid here with you?”

  I nodded.

  “Go sit by your wife.”

  The bossiness in her tone brought a grin to my lips.

  Our eyes met as my husband came around the breakfast bar and dining room before taking a seat at my side. As he sat, the sofa dipped to his weight. Yet instead of emanating comfort, I sensed his unease—the tenseness of his muscles and the way he was perched upon the edge of the cushions, barely sitting.

  “She doesn’t bite.” Renita smiled as she turned to me. “Or do you?”

  I looked over at Reid and shook my head. “Not on purpose.”

  Scooting closer to me and onto the cushion, he reached for my hand. As we connected, our fingers intertwined and his muscles eased.

  “That’s more like it,” the doctor praised.

  There were few people in the world who would order around any of the Sparrow men. While she probably wouldn’t take the same tone with Sparrow, in the here and now, her taking charge was what was needed.

  Settling against my husband, I took consolation in the warmth radiating from his side as we both waited expectantly for the information the doctor had in her possession.

  My grip of my husband’s hand tightened as she pulled an envelope from her purse.

  “Have you read it?” I asked.

  She extended her hand and the envelope toward us. “I have.”

  Reid’s grasp tensed.

  As if she could hear his unspoken response, she added, “I’ve found it better to enter a patient’s room prepared.” She looked around our living room. “That includes a patient’s home.”

  With a trembling hand, I reached for the envelope and looked over to my husband.

  “Do you want me to open it?” he asked. The storm that had settled in his eyes was back, the typhoon-force winds swirling violently despite his calmer cadence.