Out of the Dark: A Thrilling Romantic Suspense Novel (The Dark Series Book 2)

by Danah Logan

  My cheeks are burning. Can we please move on from my relationship?

  Mom continues, oblivious that the four of us are staring at her like she’s grown a second head. "I've given you free rein on how to protect us, but you promised me you would never keep anything from me anymore after Hannah. It's not bad enough that you kept the other thing from me, but now I have to find out that you knew Lilly was putting herself back onto his radar. What else is there?"

  The other thing? And who the fuck is Hannah?

  My leg won't stop bouncing. As fascinated as I am by this exchange, I'm fighting the urge to bolt from the room. Lilly's hand lands on my leg, and the contact calms me instantly.

  Mom turns away from her husband, and Dad’s face reminds me of the time they caught me driving the Defender down the street at age fourteen. I thought Mom would never forgive me. No one puts Tristen McGuire in his place.

  Back in control and eerily calm, she says, "I'm sorry you had to witness this. Your father and I will talk about that later." She meets Lilly's gaze, and her hand clenches down on my leg.

  Fuuuck, that hurts.

  I try not to wince or make a sound, but her hand is like a claw digging into my muscle.

  "Sweetheart, what happened after California?"

  All eyes are back on Lilly. I pry her hand from my thigh, interlacing our fingers and squeezing them gently.

  "I started getting text messages, with pictures of myself. Later, some of me with Den and Rhys."

  "Why didn't you tell us?" Mom's tone is quiet. Careful.

  Lilly turns to me, and I dip my head, urging her to tell them.

  She whispers, "You betrayed me."

  Dad rubs his hands over his face, and Mom swipes a tear away that has escaped her glistening eyes.

  Suddenly, Lilly's head snaps up, and I pull my hand away, startled by the sudden movement. She glances at me sideways, and I take her hand back, shrugging a shoulder. We're all jumpy.

  She pins Dad down with a glare that would make George proud. "So, if you bugged our phones, how didn’t you know about the texts?"

  Dad’s eyebrows shoot up. "I didn’t bug your phone."

  My vision instantly clouds, and I’m interjecting myself into the conversation. "Yes, you did. Or how did that suit know what Lilly said when she called the first time?"

  I mean, we know he did because of Nate, the genius hacker, but I can’t say that.

  Dad clears his throat and won’t look in Mom’s direction. "I only tracked your phones. I didn’t install the listeners until Lilly went missing."

  Wes eyes his phone, and Denielle snorts, "Not yours, dumbass." Then she peers to my father. "Uh, right?"

  "Correct," Dad deadpans, and Lilly stifles a laugh next to me.

  Mom collects herself and moves the conversation back on track. "Okay, so you got text messages. What then?"

  Lilly swallows hard. The closer we get to Nate, the more she struggles.

  I decide to take over and give her a break. "Lilly wanted to know what he wanted before she told anyone else. Kat tried to blackmail me into getting back with her. She figured out that something was going on but couldn’t put her finger on it until she got a hold of the picture." I don't have to tell them which picture; everyone has seen it by now. "She posted it on her social media and cornered Lilly in front of the entire school. Lilly didn't take her bullshit and left."

  "What happened after you left the school grounds?" The voice behind us startles everyone, and Agent Camden steps forward.

  Lilly's eyes widen, and she quietly seeks my encouragement. I squeeze her hand and nod.

  "I wanted to be alone. I was going to drive home but needed a moment. I was on the back road when I noticed another car behind me. It didn't come close, so I couldn't make out who was in it. A fox ran across the street, and I jerked the steering wheel to avoid hitting it. I missed the fox but lost control of the Jeep instead." She takes a long pause, and my heart is hammering in my throat while I wait.

  Here it comes. Let the acting begin.

  "I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in the hospital three days ago."

  No one speaks for several minutes.

  Agent Lanning breaks the silence. "Tristen, can we speak in private?"

  Dad gets up without a word and leads the agent to his office, Agent Camden following on their heels. I glance around the room, and everyone seems unsure what to do next.

  Are we done with the interrogation?

  Mom pushes off the couch. "Let's all get some breakfast. We’ll continue when your father is back."

  And with that, it's like the last weeks haven't happened. What the fuck? I exchange a confused look with Lilly and our friends. That’s it? That can’t be it.

  Mom gets busy in the kitchen, and Denielle helps her make pancakes while Wes sets to the task of brewing enough coffee to keep us all awake for a week. Narrowing my eyes at the scene in front of me, I take a seat next to Lilly on the barstools. Pressing my thigh against hers, I get her attention and mouth, "Are you okay?"

  She gives me a jerked nod, and my stomach sinks. No.

  When Dad doesn’t come out of his office even after our house guests take their seats at the kitchen table again, the four of us go upstairs to my room. Inside, I flip the lock, and we pile into my bathroom. At this point, I don’t give a flying fuck what Dad thinks if he checks the security feed. Looks like his pile of secrets grows by the day, and Mom doesn't know the half of it.

  I sit with my back against the bathtub, Lilly between my legs, Den on the closed toilet seat to the left, and Wes across, leaning against the door. Six months ago, I would've laughed my ass off if someone would've told me I'd be hanging out in my bathroom with my best friend, sister, and Denielle ‘The Bulldog’ Keller—in Wes’s hoodie, nonetheless.

  "How are you doing, babe?" Denielle looks at Lilly with her head cocked to the side.

  Lilly is nestled against my chest sideways with her legs pulled up and her head tucked under my chin. She turns to get a better look at her friend and shrugs a shoulder. "I feel like a prisoner."

  Not surprising with the media camped out on the front lawn.

  Mom informed us earlier that she's going to pick Natty up from Olivia's tomorrow but is worried what this chaos outside the house will do to her. We've tried to keep her routine as normal as possible under the circumstances, and so far, it has worked. Mom would spend time with her at Olivia's house, but we’ve kept her away from the FBI in our home. With the press now trying to track down information on Lilly, Dad wants everyone under the same roof. He doesn't want to risk someone cornering my little sister at her ballet lesson or school.

  "Were you not held prisoner by your brother?" Wes voices the question that I had bounced around in my head for a while in his usual sledgehammer way. The few times we FaceTime'd, I got a small glimpse of the place. I know it was not a one-bedroom apartment, but Lilly had been mum about more details.

  She doesn’t answer right away, and I lean forward to assess her face better. She chews on her lower lip, flicking her thumb against her fingers.

  Why is she nervous?

  I exchange a look with the other two in the room, and both mirror my confused expression. When I think she won't answer at all, she whispers, "I wasn’t. I couldn't leave the estate, but I never felt like a prisoner."

  Estate?

  "Estate?" Denielle hesitantly asks.

  Lilly inhales and holds her breath for several beats. "I haven’t told any of you where I was for several reasons. For one, no one can know about the location. Not because I…we have to hide anything there, but because it's Nate's home. The only place he feels at peace, and I would never take that from him."

  She is protecting her brother.

  "Two, I didn't know how you would react or look at me if you knew the truth. But there is no point in keeping this fact from you now since you know everything else."

  Lilly turns to me and places a hand on the side of my face. "I didn't want you to feel d
ifferently about me."

  Alarm bells instantly start to shrill in my head. What the hell is she talking about? I narrow my eyes. "Why would I do that?"

  As she continues, Denielle and Wes hang on her every word. The longer she talks, the lower their jaws drop.

  "I was at the family vineyard. It belonged to Payton's father, and Nate restored most of it over the years. He grows grapes there but doesn't allow the processing on the property. He has a ten-foot wall around the whole place and a huge wrought-iron gate, which is the only way in or out. An electric current secures everything, and the only way on or off the property is with a code. If you try to get in, or out, you get shocked—not terribly, but enough to knock you on your ass and fry any electronic you may carry with you. There's no cell service unless you're hooked into the network. I have no clue how he did all this, but he designed his security system, so it wasn't a surprise. The house is a massive Mediterranean-style building with two separate wings. It has an outdoor pool in the back, and the indoor pool is underground next to the gym. He built an indoor track under the house and a motor pool that can hold twelve plus cars. He has an R8 there that you guys would lose your shit over." She stops and presses her lips together, realizing how she got carried away. It's obvious now that she loves the place.

  The three of us must have similar expressions: gaping at Lilly.

  "Uh…why would you leave there?" Wes attempts to break the tension, and Denielle whacks him over the head. But the goal is accomplished. Lilly smiles.

  "Babe, did you think I'd be upset about where he took you? That you liked it there?" I'm still confused as to why she was so scared to tell me. She must've been worried about what I would think of her, knowing that she was content where she was. It sounds like she was living the dream—minus the kidnapping and secrets.

  She looks everywhere but my face. "The estate is one thing. There is something else I haven't told you yet."

  What now?

  My pulse picks up, and everything from Nate not taking responsibility to her choosing to leave me and stay with her real family crosses my mind.

  "Brooks left me money."

  Okay, so she got a small inheritance. What’s the big deal?

  "That's, uh…great. I mean, that means he cared about you, right? You can buy yourself something and know it's from your biological father." I try to make sense of why she looks like she's about to throw up the half pancake she forced herself to eat earlier.

  "It’s ten million dollars." Her voice is so low I’m sure I misheard.

  "Come again?" Denielle’s shrill voice echoes like a bullhorn through my small bathroom.

  Wes chokes and goes into a coughing fit.

  I guess I did hear her right.

  "Plus interest for fifteen years."

  Fuck. Me.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I told them. In twelve days, on my eighteenth birthday, I will have more money than every single person I know combined—not counting brother dearest. Before I left the vineyard, Nate spent several hours dissecting the trust Brooks set up. It took us hours and emptying every single file cabinet drawer in the library, but we found a copy of my biological father's testament. Just weeks before his death, he revised his will. Besides half of his fortune, my trust, I was to inherit every last penny that was meant for Audrey. Nate is set through Payton and the Altman Empire; I got the rest. It's been accumulating interest over the last ten plus years since Nate never considered there being additional funds to what his mother's attorneys handed him. When Nate gave me his final estimate, I crushed the plastic water bottle in my hand. Unfortunately, said bottle was open, and the water splashed all over the desk. Again.

  After that, my brother was close to frisking me whenever I entered the NCC. He even sent George out with his covered mug because there was a chance I could spill it. I had a few choice words for him on that.

  I still haven't admitted the full extent of my future fortune to Rhys or my friends; the amount of the trust alone was enough to put them into a state of shock. The tension finally left my body when neither of them made any comments one way or another or looked differently at me once the surprise wore off. I scolded myself for not confiding in them sooner.

  We're in Rhys’s room when Heather knocks. The boys are playing a video game, sitting at the foot of the bed, and Denielle and I are lounging against the headboard. Up until that moment, I was as content as one in my situation could be. For a few hours, I pretended to be a normal girl—no secret past, no unknown future. I blocked out everything as I listened to my boyfriend and his best friend bicker over who has the better aim shooting the zombies in their various body parts. Facing my adopted mother, my stomach drops like I'm sitting in the first car of a rollercoaster and we're pushing over the edge.

  "Lilly, can you come down for a few minutes?" Her face is her usual, gentle self whenever she talks to one of her kids, but deep down, I sense that something is about to happen—again. I want to say no, hide behind my friends, maybe even call George to come to pick me up…but none of that is an option. Whatever they’re going to tell me, I have to face it.

  Rhys pauses the game and is about to stand up when his mother holds up her hand. "Just Lilly."

  "Not happening!" Rhys is on his feet in the blink of an eye and puts himself in front of me.

  I place my palm between his shoulder blades. "It's okay."

  Pulse rushing through my body double time, I want him with me, but Heather and Tristen would never harm me.

  "Are you sure?" Rhys turns, and his eyes switch back and forth between mine.

  "Yes." I try to smile reassuringly at him as I follow Heather out of the room.

  In the hallway, she laces her arm through mine and leads me down the stairs into Tristen's office. "Sweetheart, Dad and I want to talk with you about a few things."

  The reassurance I plastered on my face falls off like the sheet mask during Denielle’s beauty salon sleepover party freshman year. That darn thing would not stay on—at all.

  As we enter, Tristen rises from behind his desk to meet us. My heart stutters a beat as I take him in. I’ve never been able to read him; the man invented the poker face. However, looking at him now…I want to turn and run back upstairs.

  He gestures toward the sitting area in the corner of the room—a gray twill loveseat and matching armchair with a round end table in between.

  My mouth has gone dry, and I tuck my thumbs inside my fists so I don’t start flicking my fingers. I take the seat next to Heather while Tristen lowers his large frame into the armchair.

  Hands folded, he leans forward with his arms on his thighs. "I wanted to speak to you without Rhys in the room. He is very…protective of you, and I want to make sure you get the answers you need—without interruptions. There are many unanswered questions, and I will answer them to the best of my ability. What you want to share with him is up to you."

  "Okay?" I reply warily. I barely get the word out over the sandpapery feeling in my throat. Where is this going?

  Heather places her palm on my thigh, and I jump, jerking my head in her direction. "Dad and I had a long conversation, and though I'm still very upset with him for keeping certain facts from me, I understand his reasoning. We're sure there is a lot you want to know, and I wish you would've come to us before driving to California."

  I furrow my brow and study her for a long moment. "Would you have told me the truth?" I challenge her.

  She exchanges a look with her husband, and it's Tristen that answers. "Not if I would have seen another way."

  I appreciate his honesty, yet it’s like a slap in the face. I can feel the invisible handprint on my cheek.

  "We cannot change the current situation. You are young, and you felt we did wrong by you. I'm trying to put myself in your shoes. As an adult, it is hard for me to relate to your decisions, but people make mistakes when they're young." Heather leaves the last sentence hanging.

  I simply nod and glance between them. Waiting.

&n
bsp; My adopted father’s next sentence makes the pulse in my veins go into overdrive. "Your video was a surprise."

  Do. Not. React.

  "Wh-what video?" I attempt to keep my voice steady. With my eyes locked on Tristen, I clench my balled hands even harder, making my hidden thumbs crack. The compulsion to flick the rest of my fingers is like a mosquito bite you’re trying not to scratch.

  I told them I don’t remember anything from the past two weeks, which would include the video, but if he keeps pushing…

  Neither of them speaks. Tristen peers at his wife and, after another beat of silence, clears his throat. "First, I want to tell you how very sorry I am for the way you had to find out about all of this. I never expected this to happen. I was assured it wouldn’t."

  My breath hitches. He’s letting the video go. Why? Then his words register. "Assured by whom?"

  The face from my migraine appears in front of my mind’s eye: The memory doctor.

  Heather lets go of my thigh and takes my hand between hers, forcing me to open my palm to hers. "You have to understand that when you were in the hospital in California, you were in a very fragile state. We were not there yet and only knew what Emily had relayed to us. She wouldn't let me talk to Henry or a nurse to get a better picture. You have always been like a daughter to me. You and Rhys have been inseparable from the day you were born." She smiles to herself. "When you cried, I would put him in your crib, and you instantly calmed down. There were many times you would be at our house for a whole day or two. Emily was my best friend since childhood, but…" She trails off, and the hair at the nape of my neck stands. What the hell is she trying to say? Or rather, not say?

  "We flew out to California as soon as we could after getting the news." Tristen directs my attention to himself. "As Mom said, you have always been like a daughter to us, and this hit us as hard as it did Henry."

  Henry? Not Emily.

  My heart beats so fast against my ribcage it physically hurts. But I can't voice my question before Tristen continues, "When we arrived, everything happened very fast. Henry showed us the messages Emily had received and caught us up on the medical diagnoses. You immediately asked for Rhys." The corners of his mouth tilt up. It's the first time he shows an actual reaction to Rhys and me, which in return makes my face heat. "Your primary nurse, uh…"