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

by Danah Logan

  Wes glowers, nostrils flared, but then starts the game back up.

  I’m grateful that he’s my best friend on so many levels. I’m not stupid; I can see he’s livid—who wouldn’t be? But where others would keep pushing, he knows that I’ll tell him when the time is right—it just hasn’t been. Wes was pissed for weeks after I shut Lilly out, but eventually, he let it go. It had to have been something serious for me to leave Lilly, which was reason enough for him. He still talked to her on occasion, but he was my best friend first, and that probably hurt Lilly just as much. She didn’t just lose me. I took Wes with me.

  He’s yet another person who got involuntarily pulled into this scheme and had to pay the price with his friendship to Lilly. I probably owe him an apology—one day. For all of it.

  Lilly is sitting on her bed, reading, when I walk in around eleven. She genuinely smiles, and I can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through me.

  "How is Wes?"

  I settle myself next to her against the headboard of her bed with one leg on the mattress and the other hanging down. I make the split-second decision to not mention our argument to her; she has enough going on. "Good. He asked about you."

  Lilly closes the cover of her e-reader and tilts her head.

  "He saw you last night."

  "I shouldn’t have come. I was so angry at Heather and Tristen and couldn’t make myself go home." She balls her fists into the comforter.

  I don’t want her to regret coming. It was the best part of the entire evening for me. "It’s fine. Wes is fine. I told him we made up."

  Alarm flickers in her eyes. "You what? What does he know?"

  "Nothing. I never told him anything. He knew it had to be something major for me to act the way I did. He was up my ass for weeks, but eventually, he let it go. He’s a good friend, Cal. I think we can trust him—when you’re ready."

  Lilly’s face goes blank for a second, and then she nods. "Yeah, maybe."

  We sit in silence, and I play with the fringe of one of her throw pillows in my lap when I reveal, "I have an idea about how we can pull off our trip to California."

  That piques Lilly’s interest, and she looks at me expectantly.

  "But before I get to that, have you reconsidered talking to Mom and Dad? If they knew, maybe they would fill in the blanks."

  "No!"

  It comes out so forcefully that I lift my hands defensively, not pushing further. "Okay," It was worth a try. "I was going on a ski trip with a bunch of people from school and—"

  "The one Den and Charlie are going on? After Christmas?" Lilly interrupts.

  "Yeah, I’m going with Wes. Anyway, what if you come with us"—I make air quotes around ‘with’—"and you and I head to California instead?"

  She frowns. "Heather and Tristen will never let me go. You remember what happened when I was supposed to go on the field trip to D.C. freshman year."

  It was a three-day trip, and Mom and Dad found every possible excuse under the sun to not let her go. Of course, Lilly didn’t get why. A lot of tears and yelling were involved, and in the end, Lilly didn’t talk to anyone for almost four days.

  "I remember, but that was a few years ago. Den and Charlie will be there, and so will Wes and I. We can figure something out." I try to sound confident.

  "How do you explain to Wes that you’re not going? And how would they cover for us unless we tell them? And how would we explain to Heather and Tristen that you would look out for me? We don’t talk to each other." She’s right. I didn’t think about all of that. We sit quietly for several minutes.

  Lilly is the first to speak again. "I can get Den to cover for me." She sounds convinced. "I’ll ask Heather and Tristen to go with her, and when they start saying no, I’ll bring up that you and Wes are there as well. I mean, you would keep me safe, no matter how we"—she gestures between us—"are with each other."

  That approach could work.

  "What are you gonna tell Den?" She is as nosy as they get, but I don’t say that out loud.

  Lilly taps her finger against her lips, and once again, I ogle her like a cheeseburger while I’m on my strict-as-fuck, wrestling-season nutrition plan.

  God, why does she keep doing that?

  "I’m not sure yet. Probably part of the truth?"

  I arch an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

  "You and I have to go to California, and I’ll fill her in on everything when we get back. I’m just not ready yet."

  "And you think she’ll be cool with that?" I’m skeptical. Denielle Keller hates my guts.

  "Yes, she’s my best friend, and she trusts me."

  I sit up. "Okay then, let’s give it a try."

  Chapter Twelve

  Once Rhys goes to bed, I text Denielle to ask if she wants to go Christmas shopping in the morning. As expected, she’s still up and immediately replies: Um, duh! :-P

  We meet Sunday morning, and Den drags me from one store to the next. Four hours later, she has thirteen shopping bags. Thirteen! I glance down to my hands—two. A book for Natty, and the other bag is for Rhys, but Den doesn’t know that. I was getting new shin guards when I saw a set of black gel shock quick-wraps and spontaneously decided to get them for him as a Christmas present.

  Since the hug, I’ve had a hard time keeping the anger barrier up. He’s not forgiven, but he is slowly breaking down my defenses. He is giving up his ski trip to help me with something that could just as well be a useless endeavor.

  While I trail Den through the shops, I go through possible ways on how to broach the subject, bumping into her several times when she stops to pick something up and I’m too far in my head to notice. After the third time, she gives me the raised eyebrow, and after the fifth, she exclaims, "Really? What’s going on with you today?"

  By the time we sit down for lunch, I’m a hot mess. She is my best friend, but despite what I told Rhys, I’m worried she’ll press for more information than I am willing to give.

  We go to our usual lunch spot, a small sushi restaurant. We’ve just ordered, and the waitress is walking away when Den leans forward, arms on the table, and says, "Okay, I’ve waited long enough. Spill!"

  Almost spitting out my water, I set the glass down slowly, avoiding direct eye contact. I love this girl to pieces. She’ll always have my back, but at the same time, she can intimidate the crap out of me.

  "What do you mean?" I finally glance up from the red-and-white checkered tabletop.

  She gives me a don’t-try-to-play-dumb look. "Something has been going on with you for weeks, and I want to know what it is."

  Shit.

  Sometimes, it’s a disadvantage that she can read me so well.

  "Umm...well...I did want to talk to you about something," I stammer.

  Den stares blankly and waves her hand in a motion for me to continue.

  I grab a napkin from the dispenser and start shredding it.

  How small can I make the pieces?

  I take a deep breath. "I need you to cover for me."

  "I don’t follow." She squints at me.

  "The ski trip over the New Year; I need you to cover for me with my parents—that I am there. With you."

  Her scowl turns into a shit-eating grin. "Ohhhhh, who is the lucky guy?"

  Okay, here it goes. "Rhys."

  Her eyes bulge out. "Come again?"

  I snicker. My best friend is rarely at a loss for words.

  "Rhys and I need to go...somewhere, and our parents can’t find out." I almost said his parents. Before she’s able to interject, I add quickly, "I swear I’ll tell you everything when we’re back, but I’m not ready. I need you to trust me. Please," I all but plead.

  Den thinks it over. And thinks some more. I’m holding my breath until my lungs start to burn. The wait is excruciating, even though the wall clock above the neighboring table shows that it’s less than two minutes before she speaks.

  "Does this have to do with why you’ve been acting like a paranoid zombie on coke f
or the last few weeks?"

  Well, if she put it like that.

  I nod.

  "It’s something serious, isn’t it?"

  Another nod. I’m unable to form a response without blurting out the secret.

  "Are you going to be safe? With Rhys, I mean? He’s not going to leave you stranded somewhere, right?"

  A smile tugs at my lips at her protectiveness. "Yes, things have changed." I look at her with what hopefully constitutes as a serious but convincing face.

  Or I could just appear constipated.

  The silence drags out another minute and a half before Denielle sighs, almost resigned. "Okay, but I want to know what’s going on with you when you get back. You’re freaking me out."

  I reach across the table to hug her. "Thank you!"

  "Anything for you, babe."

  I’m sitting at the dinner table, peeking at Heather and Tristen through my lashes. It’s the first time I’ve been in the same room with them for more than five minutes since Friday. Heather made salmon with roasted asparagus, which I usually love, but today it’s like chewing paper. We’re eating in silence, and once again, I am sorting through the emotions in my head.

  They’re my parents. They’re all I remember. But I can’t bring myself to call them Mom and Dad. The hurt was written all over Rhys’s face when I started calling them Heather and Tristen, but he didn’t say anything to correct me.

  I sneak glances when they’re not paying attention to me. How can they just pretend day in and day out? Or has this farce gone on for so long that they believe it themselves?

  Rubbing my palms against my pants, I fight the urge to shout at them. Why am I here? Why did you take me in? Why have you been lying to me for ten years? WHY?

  My breathing increases, and my eyes gloss over. A feeling of being manipulated is taking over my senses, and I focus down at my plate, inwardly counting backward from thirteen. Don’t ask me why thirteen. It’s a technique Spence taught us early on in our training to focus. I’ve been using it ever since.

  Once I’m back in control, I unclench my fists under the table. I wonder if I’ll be able to forgive them one day. Probably? I don’t know—maybe? As long as my emotions go haywire when we’re in the same room, I am not ready. For now, I need to figure out what really happened.

  I push the same piece of salmon around on my plate for the fourth time, and Heather examines me with a quizzical yet knowing look. She can see that something is going on, but wants me to tell her what it is. She has used this technique many times over the years, and usually, it works for her.

  Sitting down for dinner, I was prepared to have a hard time controlling myself. I’m nowhere near as good as Rhys in putting on a show for everyone, but I decide to use it to my advantage. While Heather still tries to figure out what’s wrong with me, I blurt out, "Denielle asked me to come with her on the ski trip over the New Year."

  It’s a gamble, and I wait for them to call me out on the real reason. Subconsciously, children always think that their parents have built-in bullshit detectors, right?

  But they are not your parents, the voice reminds me.

  I hold my breath.

  Heather’s hand has stopped halfway to her glass of white wine, and her gaze ping-pongs between Tristen and me. Tristen is the first to react. "The ski trip Rhys is going on? After Christmas?"

  Why does he immediately bring Rhys up?

  I shrug. "No idea. I’m not sure who all is going?" I phrase it more like a question and hope I come across like I don’t care one bit. Plus, technically, I wouldn’t know since Rhys and I don’t talk or run in the same circle.

  Heather wears her typical frown when she is debating something. "I don’t know." Looking at Tristen, she asks, "What do you think?"

  Their internal struggle is apparent. They don’t want me to go, and logically, I get it. They are scared and want me safe but can’t give away why.

  I decide to push a little bit. "I’m almost eighteen. Den will be there, and so will Charlie. Please?" With that, I shove some of the papery salmon in my mouth to stop myself from revealing anything that could mess it up.

  I finish two more bites before one of them speaks up. They keep silently communicating with each other. Eventually, Tristen clears his throat and declares, "I’ll talk to Rhys."

  What? That’s it? What does that mean?

  "Um, okay."

  I leave dinner somewhat defeated. My trip to California—to my past—relies on them letting me go.

  Lilly is talking to Denielle this morning, so I tell Wes to meet me at the gym after my session with Spence—to get it over with. He is confused that I asked him to come today, but he agrees.

  When I finish with Spence, Wes is already on the treadmill a good two miles into his usual five-mile run. I walk up and lean against the equipment next to his, waiting for him to slow down.

  When he’s at a brisk walk, I rip off the Band-Aid. "Hey, man, I need you to do me a favor."

  No reason to drag this out and make it more painful.

  "Sure, what do you need?" He takes a big gulp from his water bottle.

  "I’m not going to make it on the ski trip, but if anyone asks, I’m going. Especially my parents."

  Wes wiggles his eyebrows. "You and Kat taking some alone time?"

  "No, Lilly and I are."

  He hits the emergency stop button and turns to me. "Your sister Lilly? Our Lilly?" He gestures back and forth between us.

  I stare back at him. My Lilly, a growl reverberates in my head. I compose myself before answering. After all, that was what got me into this mess in the first place—my jealousy toward Wes. "Yes, I can’t tell you more right now. I need you to trust me."

  His face turns from surprise to annoyance. "That seems to have become a pattern between us."

  I can’t fault him. This is the second time in two days. But then he switches to concern. "Are you guys okay? What’s going on?"

  "Lilly needs my help, but until we’re back, it’s better for you not to know. Plus, it’s not my place to tell. It’s Lilly’s decision. She’ll fill you in when she’s ready. But she needs more time."

  Cryptic much?

  When Wes hesitates, I ask him flat out, "Can I count on you?"

  I’m holding my hand out toward him. I am forcing my luck.

  He deliberates for another moment. "Yeah, of course." He slaps his palm in mine. "I’m just...curious. And worried. I mean, Lilly? You haven’t spoken ten words to her in years."

  I sigh. "You’ll understand soon enough."

  He cocks his head to the side. "What about Kat?"

  I shrug. "What about her?"

  "Uh...won’t she want to know about this?"

  Wes is as oblivious as everyone else about how it is between Kat and me. I’ve never felt the need to elaborate.

  "Nah, she’s fine. She’s gone with her family."

  Wes nods and starts running again. "Come on, you’re two miles behind me."

  Moving on.

  It’s almost midnight by the time I enter Lilly’s room. Dad caught me when I got home around eight, and we chatted for over an hour before he retreated to his office until eleven-thirty. Not taking any risks, I stayed in my room until I heard his footsteps going up the stairs.

  When I slowly ease Lilly’s door open, her lights are off, and she is facing away. The blackout curtains are open, and in the dim light, I can see her long hair fanned out on the pillow. I close the door behind me and walk around the bed, gaping at her. I inwardly laugh at myself. I can’t remember one time I had that reaction toward Kat, not even when she would fuck my brains out. I never would just stare at her, marvel at how beautiful she was. Lilly is the complete opposite. She is gorgeous inside and out, and I could watch her for hours.

  Lilly looks peaceful; there is no concern, no anger, and no blank mask on her face. The mask is what has thrown me off more than the other emotions this past week. It fucks with my head when I can’t read her, makes me feel helpless.

 
I squat down, bringing myself to the same level. "Hey, Cal?"

  A grumbled, "Hmm," comes from her sleeping form.

  I smirk. "I talked to Dad. We’re all set."

  Her eyes pop open, and she jerks straight up. "Are you serious?"

  The abrupt motion scares the shit out of me, and I land ungracefully on my ass. Ouch. I peer up at her expectant face. "Yup, we’re going to California." I can no longer suppress my ear-to-ear grin.

  She turns her bedside lamp on, fully facing me. "What did he say? I can’t believe they’re letting me go."

  I return to my squatting position. "It was touch and go for a bit, but in the end, I convinced him."

  Exasperation drips from her voice. "Rhys! What. Did. He. Say?"

  I kind of enjoy keeping her hanging, but it’s not fair—not with this.

  "Dad was waiting for me in the kitchen. Scared me half to death. I wasn’t even through the door when he barked at me that you had asked to go on the ski trip and wanted to know if I had heard about it. I played dumb. I mean, how would I? He announced that they were against you going because they didn’t want to risk anything."

  Lilly inhales sharply, waiting.

  "I said that I get it, but that in a few months you’ll be eighteen, and they won’t be able to stop you anymore. Dad thought that over and then asked how I felt about you being there."

  I roll my eyes as I continue. "It was pretty obvious what he was fishing for. I mean, he is the fucking reason I don’t talk to you."

  I’m still squatting, my forearms resting on my thighs, and I realize my fists are balled. Anger is an understatement for the emotional onslaught I’m experiencing. I haven’t thought about that night for a long time for exactly this reason. The night he pulled me aside and told me I couldn’t feel that way toward Lilly and I had to do something about it. Resentment and fury surge through me, and I want to punch something...someone. Lilly was not the only one who lost her best friend. I missed her so much at the beginning that I almost told her twice—screw the consequences.

  I remind myself that that’s over now. Lilly waits patiently for me to continue, watching me fight for composure. Where someone else might have gotten impatient, she knows when to let me work it out in my head. My insides warm at the realization.