In the Dark: A Thrilling Romantic Suspense Novel (The Dark Series Book 1)

by Danah Logan

  My adrenaline level is through the roof before I finish reading, and I’m close to jumping out of my seat. Lilly has to be back in school by now, and I have the desperate need to go searching for her.

  When I glance toward the front at Miss Cipriano, I see Kat studying me with a raised eyebrow.

  Shit.

  I’m drawing attention. Kat will interrogate me later about who I was texting.

  Unable to let it go, though, I type U okay?

  When no three dots appear, I put my phone away. She’s probably back at school.

  I hope.

  I don’t see Lilly after class, and she hasn’t responded to my text, which keeps me in a state of complete distraction during the meeting with my coach for tonight’s wrestling match. He yells at me twice, and Wes gives me a what-the-fuck glare.

  So much for keeping a low profile. That makes twice today.

  Tonight’s match is against our main rival, and everyone’s eyes are glued to the mats. I’m up next. When I walk onto the mats toward Jeff Convoy, one of the best on the other team, I notice familiar blonde hair near the side of the bleachers. I turn my head slightly, and sure enough, my gaze zeros in on Lilly. She’s chewing on her thumbnail and lifts her other hand in a small wave, clearly trying not to draw attention. I do that all on my own. Again.

  I stop mid-step and stare at her. What is she doing here? Is something wrong? She hasn’t been to a game or match since...since before. I try to compose myself, nod at her, and continue to my mark. I assure myself that if something were wrong, she would’ve texted me. But why is she here?

  Lilly watching gives me an adrenaline spurt like never before. All I can think of is that I have to win. Yes, total caveman reaction, but what can I say?

  Fortunately, I also have the advantage of years of private MMA lessons over most opponents. I’m good at anticipating the next move—very good, actually. Not to boast—well, maybe a little—but the match is over in no time.

  Kat instantly gets up when I walk off the mats. She usually greets me with a big show—winning or losing, anything that gives her attention—but I don’t care for her theatrics tonight. Instead of heading toward her, I veer to the edge of the bleachers. Lilly’s eyes widen when I approach, and she takes a step back. She looks like she wants to hide under the bleachers. I briefly regret my decision, but she didn’t respond all afternoon. I need to make sure she is okay, not giving a fuck that all eyes are on us.

  I stop right in front of her and keep my voice low. "Everything okay?"

  She seems confused for a second. "Yes, why?"

  "You didn’t text back."

  I’ll take ‘Lovesick Moron’ for one hundred, Alex.

  Realization hits her. "Oh! Yes, crap, I’m sorry. I wasn’t alone until I decided to come here."

  "Why are you here?" Not that I’m complaining; I’m probably reading into it way too much.

  Lilly glances over my shoulder and then shrugs as if she is not sure herself. Or she doesn’t want to answer my question. Before I can prod further, she remarks dryly, "You better go back before Katherine’s head explodes."

  I’m sure she’s foaming at the mouth, but that doesn’t impact Lilly.

  "She’ll get over it." I hope. "See you later?"

  When Lilly nods, I turn and head over to my usual spot. Sure enough, I can see Kat internally fuming.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  I’m going to pay for that when we’re alone, but in front of everyone else, she throws herself into my arms and chokes me with her tongue. Really? I will never understand how tongue-fucking me in public is helping her image.

  By the time I can disentangle myself from Kat and the catcalls have stopped, Lilly is gone. At least that seems to have distracted everyone from my little sister, who I haven’t spoken to in years, showing up.

  After gymnastics practice, Denielle meets her parents for dinner, but I can’t bring myself to go home after what I found today. Not that it is a major breakthrough; however, it’s the first true proof that Heather and Tristen have been lying to me all these years. The longer I let the feeling of betrayal fester, the tenser I grow. I’m close to the point of snapping. The little bit of rational thinking that’s left reasons to stay away from my pretend parents until I can think straight again.

  I drive around and briefly consider going to grab food, but when I pass the school, I spontaneously pull into the already packed lot. I haven’t been to one of Rhys’s matches in years, and I’m too worked up to think about how it could be perceived.

  As I push through the gym’s double doors, a guy named Matt, or Mark, or something like that is in the middle of his match. He’s holding his own from what I can see, and I scan the room for Rhys. He sits on the bottom row of the bleachers on the far end, talking to someone I recognize but don’t remember the name of. Wes is a few seats down and raises his eyebrows when he spots me.

  Shit.

  I should leave before I draw more attention, but somehow, being here calms me. Maybe there is more to my anchor theory than I thought? I remain at the edge of the bleachers and try to hide in the shadows, but Rhys immediately spots me on his way to his mark and falters mid-step. Before he can compose himself, Katherine’s eyes snap up and zero in on me. Her head slightly cocked to the side, she narrows her eyes.

  Crappity crap.

  I finally make my exit after Rhys openly approaches me after his win. What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn’t. Everyone knows that Rhys and Lilly McGuire don’t talk to each other.

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  And on top of that, I’ve started cursing like my best friend.

  I avoid Heather and Tristen when I make it home. Back in my room, I’m waiting to show Rhys the copies I made earlier. I never thought I’d be so happy about Tristen’s insistence of us needing this massive fax/printer/scanner contraption that can basically do everything but make me dinner. Earlier, I copied both papers and stashed them back where I had found them.

  Leaning against my headboard, laptop propped up in my lap, I type in the name of the nurse that signed the discharge papers in the search engine window: Madeline Cross. Nothing useful comes back—nothing of use to me, that is. I get a bunch of random entries for social media sites and other stuff, but nothing that can be tied back to a nurse in Santa Rosa ten years ago. Well, so much for that.

  I keep looking at my phone, and by two a.m., I decide to give up. My anger is under control, but I’m frustrated that Rhys didn’t come home. I can guess where he is—damage control. Which means I shouldn’t be frustrated with him. But he is the only one I can talk to about this, and I want his input. This is our first clue.

  Our clue?

  I guess I have to accept that he is in this with me. Even though I was the one kidnapped, manipulated, and lied to, he’s part of this. Always has been, to an extent.

  My inner battle is causing havoc inside of me. I don’t want to be dependent on him. Being dependent means he has the ability to let me down, hurt me. But I don’t want to be alone, either. My feelings are getting more jumbled by the day.

  I need sleep. I need to shut my brain off for a while. Though, before falling asleep I decide that it’s time to change my approach. No more waiting for more migraines. I’m going to the source.

  Rhys won’t be happy with my newfound plan.

  Chapter Eleven

  Spence pushes my training session this week to the afternoon. So, instead of being at the gym Saturday morning, I’m in the kitchen, helping Natty with her science project. Helping is actually code for her doing it and explaining it to me in the process. At the moment, she is building a waterwheel out of a cork, a few plastic pieces, a skewer, a funnel, and a two-liter bottle to demonstrate the power of water for her school’s winter science fair. I could be considered biased, but Natty is one of the smartest and kindest humans I’ve ever encountered. She looks like Rhys’s mini-me with her dark-brown hair and green eyes; she even laughs like him.

  I always tease her that she’s ten go
ing on thirty-two. When she is not with her two best friends, or at a tap or ballet lesson, she is holed up in her room, studying or with her head in a book. Her favorite books are Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. How she can read that over and over is beyond me. I tried reading both books once, but I didn’t make it past page fifteen. Natty is more grown up than I am most of the time. She is the last person I ever expect to give Heather or Tristen trouble. She’ll go places one day—that much Rhys and I always agreed on.

  Rhys walks in through the garage around noon, lingering by the door. I glance over and see guilt written all over his face. He obviously didn’t plan to stay out all night and mouths, "I’m sorry."

  I lightly touch Natty’s arm. "I’ll be right back, okay? I need to talk to Rhys."

  Engrossed in her project, she just nods.

  Even during the past few years of Rhys and me avoiding each other, we had a silent understanding not to let it interfere with our relationship with Natty. Whenever all three of us were in the same room, which wasn’t often, we were a normal family.

  Natty won’t think twice about this, but if Heather and Tristen had been here, my statement would’ve immediately attracted attention.

  I stand up, walk out of the kitchen, and up the stairs without saying another word. Rhys follows quietly, probably thinking I’ll lay into him as soon as we’re upstairs. I feel sorry for him. As if Katherine isn’t bitchy enough for all the females in Westbridge and surrounding towns—no, make that states. I decided last night that I won’t say anything about him not coming home. One, I refuse to look weak and needy, even though I did want him with me—to talk about my find. And second, I’m nothing like Katherine, and I don’t ever want to be. She is an evil bi—uh, witch who needs constant attention and validation. She has been manipulating everyone in school for years, and whoever doesn’t follow her mighty rules will be outcast. I saw it happen a few times, and it was never pretty. One girl even transferred to a private school one town over. I know for a fact that she doesn’t like me, but so far, she hasn’t tried to touch me either. I’m not sure if it’s because of being Rhys’s sister or because of my own social standing in school. I’m not at the top of Westbridge High’s food chain by any means—that would be Katherine and Rhys with their respective BFFs—but I’m definitely not at the bottom, probably even higher than the middle. I do my own thing, stick to my friends, and try to be polite to everyone, which has worked just fine for me—until now.

  It’s beyond me how no one sees how fake she is, which was another reason why it hurt so much two years ago. Rhys replaced our friendship—our bond—with her.

  Instead of going to my room, I walk straight into Rhys’s and close the door as soon as he’s over the threshold.

  Eyebrows furrowed, he asks, "Where are Mom and Dad?"

  "Lunch with someone from Heather’s firm."

  He avoids making eye contact.

  I suppress a laugh and get straight to the point. "I’m going to California."

  Now his gaze snaps to me. "Wha—? When? What happened?"

  "Not sure yet. Soon." I shrug like I just told him I’m going down the street to grab dinner. "We won’t find anything new here. I need to go where it started."

  The wheels in his head are turning, and I’m preparing myself for a fight when he says, "When are we leaving?"

  He wants to come with me?

  "Umm..."

  Scanning my stunned face, Rhys chuckles. "Cal, I told you we are doing this together. I’ve known you your entire life, and if you set your mind on something, you won’t change it. You’re more stubborn than a mule, and if someone tries to push you one way, you run the opposite direction as fast as you can—no matter the consequence. So, when are we leaving?"

  I’ve gone through every possible argument with him in my head since waking up this morning, and none of them resulted in...this. I was prepared to fight, to yell, and to defend my decision. Anything to not feel weak or dependent. But his simple statement has me tearing up. The cold feeling of betrayal is slowly being replaced by something else. Something I can’t decipher yet. Trust? At that moment, I follow my instinct and wrap my arms around his waist.

  "Thank you," I whisper into his chest.

  Rhys must’ve expected a different reaction as well because he goes rigid at the physical contact. Though, after a moment, he relaxes and hugs me back, resting his chin on my head, saying, "Always, Cal."

  Heading back down to Natty, I hear Rhys’s shower turn on and him rummaging around in his room for a while. A little later, I see my phone light up on the kitchen island, and while I walk over, Rhys races through the kitchen to the garage.

  "Bye, girls!" he shouts and disappears.

  On my screen is a text from him: Heading to Wes’s for a bit. See you later. PROMISE.

  After the match, the team and several of the girlfriends go out to eat. I focus on the guys, we joke around, discuss the match and the team we’re going up against next. Kat is busy with the girls, but as soon as we are alone in the Defender, she lets me have it. After the first five minutes of her going on and on about how I made her look like a fool by not immediately coming to her, I tune her out. At some point, she starts ripping into Lilly and the audacity of her showing up the way she did. It takes all the self-control I can muster not to pull over and physically kick her out of my car. I focus on breathing in and out while keeping my mouth shut, which gets harder with every venomous word that comes out of hers.

  Why the fuck have I put up with this shit for so long?

  Am I really that pathetic, instead of just sucking it up and dealing with my feelings for Lilly? The answer is simple: yes. I took the coward’s way out, and now I’m paying for it.

  We stop in front of the entrance that leads to Kat’s gated community. She turns with an expectant look when I make no indication of keying in the code.

  "Rhys?"

  First name, huh?

  "Not today." I can’t pretend tonight.

  "I see." Her tone has turned to ice, and with one ferocious push, she is out of the car and slams the door shut.

  I expel all the air I held in my lungs, put the car in drive, and leave Kat standing at the curb. She can walk the last half mile to her house.

  I planned to go home, but I am too worked up. I drive to Wes’s and let myself in through the side door as I’ve been doing for years. Wes walks out of the bathroom when I enter his room. His eyebrows raise with an unspoken question, but I just head to the couch that already—or still, I should say—holds my pillow and blanket. Without a word, he turns off the light, and we both settle for the night.

  Wes is still asleep when I leave his house the next morning.

  Going home to shower and change, I had planned to come clean about where I was all night. Guilt has been constricting my throat since waking up. I should’ve texted Lilly that I was staying at Wes’s. Not that I owe her an explanation, but I’m sure she has the wrong assumption about my whereabouts, and that simply bugs me. Her new plan, however, completely distracts me from explaining what happened. She wants to go to California. Well, fuck me. What am I supposed to do? She can’t go alone—that much is clear.

  I guess we’re going to the golden state.

  Following my usual pattern, I am leaving again, but I quickly regret my decision to go back to Wes’s.

  When Mrs. Sheats opens the front door, she gives me a questioning look. She wears her usual outfit of black leggings and flowy tunic. Today’s color of choice is turquoise. I don’t think I have ever seen her in anything different, no matter what time of day. Her blonde hair is tied in a low ponytail. A lot of people mistake her for Wes’s older sister. She had Wes when she was just eighteen, and with her natural youthful look, that perception makes sense. I’ve fucked with Wes many times, saying how hot his mom is. Not that I would ever go there, but the way he gets riled up from the comments is hilarious.

  "Uh, is everything okay, Rhys? Since when do you use the front door?"

  Good questio
n.

  I don’t think I’ve done that since...no idea. Lilly’s decision has me completely distracted.

  I put on a nonchalant grin and give her a peck on the cheek. "Just trying out something new, Mrs. S."

  Her eyebrows are still up in her hairline, and she grunts, "Mm-hmm," with a smirk before closing the door behind me. Wes’s house has been more my home than my parents’ house since I was sixteen. I think his mother eventually accepted my constant presence here, and I became like her second son.

  I head to the family room where I’ll find Wes at this time of day. We’re lounging on the large sectional, playing video games, when Wes casually announces, "I saw Lil last night." He leaves the sentence hanging.

  Of course he noticed her. I’m an idiot for thinking he wouldn’t have. Everyone saw her. He wants me to elaborate, especially after my unexpected appearance at his house last night; Friday nights are usually reserved for Kat.

  "Yup." I hope he’ll let it go, but I know better. Three, two,...

  "Dude, Lilly came to your game, and that’s all you got?" He’s annoyed, and I’m scrambling for a logical explanation without telling the truth.

  I opt for a half-truth. "We made up."

  Wes pauses the game and scowls at me. "Care to elaborate?" When I keep staring at the screen, he continues, "I still have no freaking clue what the fuck happened in the first place. Lilly was one of my closest friends. I had to choose between you two."

  My head whips around, and I stop myself at the last moment from calling him out on his bullshit. I never made him choose.

  With a lot of restraint, I manage not to snarl at him. "I can’t go into it. We’ve made up. Leave it at that, okay?"

  "Seriously? You’re not giving me shit? Why the hell did you end up on my couch last night?" Wes sneers back.

  Now I’m getting irritated. "When was the last time I had to explain myself to you?"