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

by Danah Logan

  Wes nudges Rhys, who’s facing away, whispering something to him, and his head whips around. He blinks once, twice as if to make sure I’m really here and then flicks his gaze to Denielle. They exchange some sort of unspoken message, and Rhys’s entire demeanor turns menacing, yet his eyes shine with worry. I know this boy’s face like my own, and he’s putting up a front for everyone in this room but asks me at the same time what’s wrong.

  Both Rhys and Wes say something to their coach, grab their things, and march over, ignoring the gawking cheerleaders. No one speaks. Den turns on her heel and leads me out of there, away from the building and possible prying eyes. Rhys and Wes are close on our heels. I feel the heat radiating off Rhys’s body, but he doesn’t touch me.

  We don’t stop until we’re back in the parking lot. Denielle hands over my phone to Rhys, who immediately starts scrolling.

  Which one of them unlocked my phone? I seriously have no privacy in my life.

  Wes is peeking over Rhys’s shoulder, his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. He glances over to Denielle and me and then mumbles, "The last one is from today."

  That gets Rhys’s attention, who has moved back to the picture of Nate and me. He zeros in on Denielle, then me, then the picture.

  "Fuck."

  Is that the only word they have in their vocabulary?

  "Uh, dude, your sister just walked in."

  Huh? My sis— Oh. I peer over my shoulder and instantly know something is wrong. Apart from the fact that neither Denielle nor Lilly ever show up during practice, Denielle has her guard-dog face on full display. Her hand is protectively around Lilly’s upper arm, anchoring her to the spot, and Lilly is pale as a ghost.

  My gaze flickers over to the left, and not surprisingly, Kat has noticed them as well. Everyone has. At that moment, Kat’s eyes meet mine, and she raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow, her mouth set in a devious smile: See, I told you she doesn’t do a good job.

  Skipping through the message, my mind is stuck on the second picture. Lilly is talking to the tall blond from the gym, and he’s grinning down at her like...I don’t even know. When did that happen? And why hasn’t she told me about it? A growl echoes in my mind.

  "Down boy," penetrates the red haze. I recognize Denielle’s voice.

  Did I growl out loud?

  "—from today." Today? What? Moving to the last picture and taking a better look at Lilly and her best friend beside me, I only come up with one word. "Fuck."

  "We should get out of here," Wes speaks up, and I couldn’t agree more.

  "Let’s go to my place," Denielle offers. Her parents are still gone, so we won’t risk being interrupted.

  I try to catch Lilly’s eyes, but she focuses on everything but me.

  Wanting to get her alone, I say, "Okay. Lilly and I will meet—"

  "No." Her voice is low but stern. She finally turns to me, and her expression sends chills down my spine.

  "Babe?" I whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear but also unable to keep my emotions in check any longer.

  "Wes can drive me in my car. You can take him to get his later." Turning to her best friend, she adds, "We’ll meet you at your house." And with that, she plucks her keys from Denielle’s fingers, hands them to Wes, and marches off. My mouth hangs open, and so does Denielle’s.

  What just happened?

  "Uh..." Wes is as stunned as I am, but I shrug, and he jogs after my girl.

  I beat everyone to Denielle’s house and am waiting impatiently in the driveway when first Lilly’s Jeep and then Denielle’s Audi pull in. Watching my best friend behind the wheel of my girlfriend’s car with her seated next to him makes me ball my hands into fists. There is nothing going on that would justify the black spots appearing in my vision, but deep down, I know that something has shifted, and it’s easier to blame Wes than myself.

  We follow Denielle into the kitchen, who then disappears down the back hallway, coming back with a bottle of Macallan 30 and four glasses. As Wes and I eye the bottle, she smirks. "From my dad’s collection. He won’t notice; he has like eight of them."

  "Uh. O-kay then."

  Den fills each glass with a double and hands them to us. "Drink up."

  I’m still staring at my glass when Lilly puts her empty one back on the counter. I gawk at her, unable to form words.

  "Well, now that that’s settled." Lilly’s voice is icy and disconnected until she levels me. Her tone changes to something I’ve only ever known from Kat: sarcastically sweet and full of rage. "Do you want to explain the picture of you and your ex getting all cozy?"

  "Uh oh," chuckles Wes.

  My eyes briefly flicker over to him, and he wipes the smirk off his face. I’m fuming.

  Instead of explaining the situation to her, I snarl, "How about you explain the picture of the Abercrombie douche to me."

  "Wha—?" Lilly’s eyes narrow.

  "He did not just go there." Denielle sighs.

  Wes fake-coughs into his fist, "Shut up."

  The tension in the room grows from awkward to uncomfortable as hell.

  "I have nothing to explain to you. I did not make out with my ex in the middle of school!"

  "What the fuck?" The guilt of keeping this from her makes me lash out. I should just come clean about my psychotic ex’s threats, but I can’t bring myself to admit I’ve not been one hundred percent honest with her the last few weeks. Lilly is perceptive, and I’ve been lying to myself about her not noticing.

  "Don’t what the fuck me, Rhys! I have eyes. Were you really at Wes’s all last week?" The way she spits out my name is like a slap in the face.

  "You’re one to talk, Lilly!" A voice in my head screams at me, Abort! Shut up immediately! but it’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself. "I’ve seen you flirt with the guy."

  Her eyes bulge, and she opens her mouth to counter-attack, but Denielle steps between us, holding up both hands as if to prevent us from physically going at each other, which is not too far-fetched at this point, I guess.

  "STOP! BOTH OF YOU!" She glares first at me and then at Lilly before continuing. "Don’t you realize that this is what he wants? He wants to create a rift between you."

  Lilly blinks before switching her gaze between Denielle and me. Her words sink in. What am I doing attacking her like a possessive asshole? I interlace my hands on top of my head and draw in a breath before looking at Lilly.

  "I’m sorry, babe. I don’t know what just happened there."

  The rage in her eyes disappears and is replaced by tears slowly escaping down her cheeks. I open my arms, and she dives at me, clinging to my shirt, sobbing.

  Denielle and Wes quietly exit the kitchen to give us time, and I simply hold Lilly in my arms while she lets it all out. It crushes me to see the strong girl I love more than I can put into words crumble in front of me, and there is nothing I can do.

  Later, we find Denielle and Wes in the living room with their heads bent together. I lower myself onto the couch and pull Lilly down next to me. She drapes her legs over mine, and with my arm wrapped around her shoulder, she leans into my chest, clasping my other hand between hers.

  I haven’t spent much time in Denielle’s house until recently. I knew her parents were loaded, but I never realized how loaded. The entire house is high-end, a perfect combination of rustic chic and modern. The massive gray sectional we currently occupy is made of some sort of wool material but looks state-of-the-art and is paired with a low, rustic, espresso-colored chest serving as a coffee table. An assortment of pillar candles is perfectly arranged on a tray in the middle of the chest—the staged look completed with a massive orchid next to it.

  Wes is sitting opposite from us in a matching armchair, his arms resting on his thighs. "So, what are we going to do now?"

  All eyes turn to Lilly, but she doesn’t say anything.

  "Let’s go over the pictures?" I suggest.

  Lilly stiffens in my arms, and I start rubbing circles on her back. Slowly, she pu
lls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and opens the text message.

  Chapter Forty

  For the past three weeks, I’ve lived in complete oblivion. Being in love can do that to you. I admit I had forgotten about my psycho-stalker-slash-kidnapper. I’ve let my guard down. That cannot happen again. And looking at the pictures now, it’s even more apparent that he is everywhere. He even managed to get a picture of me at Bones. Nineteenth-century gas lanterns provide more light than the lamps inside of the place, yet he managed to get a fairly clear picture of me cuddling with Rhys. If this picture leaks—I don’t even want to think about it. A knot starts forming in my stomach, and my hand trembles as I move on to the next picture. Rhys stiffens underneath me, and I hear the edge in his voice, even though he’s trying to hide it. "When was this?"

  Next to us, Denielle raises her eyebrows, and I turn the phone to her.

  "Oh, that."

  Rhys’s hand stops circling my back; of course, he’s caught on that she knew about my interaction with Nate. Before he can come to more false conclusions, I mumble, "She was there."

  Denielle adds, "It was after Lilly’s session with Spence the other day. The two were beating the shit out of each other. The entire gym was watching. He caught up with her when she was on her way to me. He complimented her on the fight."

  "That’s it?" Rhys doesn’t seem convinced. Why is he acting this way? He behaves like I’m the biggest flirt ever. I haven’t had one serious relationship at seventeen, for crying out loud. The thought makes the wall I assumed was gone snap into place inside of me.

  "That’s it." I refuse to justify myself any more on this.

  Denielle has taken the phone from me and moves to the third picture. Flipping it toward the room, she addresses Rhys, "What about this one?"

  He exhales slowly, and his breath tickles my neck. "She’s still trying to persuade me to start our arrangement back up."

  Rhys’s hand is circling my back again, and I pull away slightly to get a better look at him. He is omitting something. I’m sure he’s telling the truth. I can definitely see Katherine trying to convince him, but there is more, and he is not sharing that with us—with me.

  Den seems to have the same suspicion, because she presses, "What exactly did she say?"

  There is a brief pause, his eyebrows pull together, and he averts his eyes downward for a fraction of a second. The entire change in demeanor is over before it starts, but that’s all I need as confirmation that he is hiding something from me. The wall grows taller.

  "She’s been talking about prom. We had plans. She wants to keep her image up."

  Both Denielle and Wes narrow their eyes at him. Seeing Wes unconvinced makes the breath catch in my chest.

  "Let’s talk about the fact that the freak was at school earlier." Wes diverts the topic, and there is now a line drawn between Rhys and the rest of us. He just lied to us.

  "This picture could have been taken from anywhere as long as he has the appropriate lens. He doesn’t have to be too close if he has a clear line of sight, and there isn’t anything blocking the view to the school’s west entrance apart from a few trees." Denielle and I are both in the same journalism class, but she knows more about photography than I do. Her aunt owns a photography studio, and Den helps out every once in a while.

  "That does not make the situation any better," I grumble.

  "I’m sorry, babe. I’m just providing the facts here."

  I look at my best friend. "I know." She’s right, and I’m grateful that she’s not sugarcoating it. I don’t think I could handle that right now.

  Rhys has been quiet during the exchange, and the rubbing of my back has stopped.

  "I want you to tell Mom and Dad."

  My head whips around. "NO!"

  Rhys speaks quietly, almost detached. "It’s getting too dangerous. They need to know."

  My heartbeat increases. I know he’s right, but the thought of them knowing makes bile rise in my throat. "I’m not ready."

  "Cal, we don’t have a choice anymore. This guy made it clear with these pictures that he is everywhere. That he can get to you everywhere."

  "He’s right," Denielle says softly, and Wes nods as well.

  Shit.

  "Okay." It’s just a whisper. I can’t bring myself to raise my voice above that. "But we wait until Tristen gets back."

  That gives me forty-eight hours.

  "Fine," Rhys concedes.

  The air is thick, and I can’t take it anymore. Untangling myself from Rhys, I say, "I’m heading home."

  "I’ll come with." Rhys stands to follow, but something inside me cringes at the thought. For the first time since the night he revealed the secrets to me, I don’t want Rhys anywhere near me. I don’t know if it’s because he is keeping something from me or if I need to process everything on my own.

  "No, it’s okay. I, uh...I think I need to be alone for a bit. Mom and Natty will be home." I walk out without a second glance. I feel three sets of eyes trained on my back and pick up my pace.

  On the short drive home, I spy the Defender in my rearview mirror and can make out two figures in it. Rhys and Wes are following me home. This should make me feel safe, but there is...nothing.

  Again, Rhys doesn’t come home that night.

  Tuesday morning, I am in a daze. My mind is foggy from another sleepless night, and Denielle simply shows up at my car, walking with me. She follows me to my locker and first period classroom before she makes her way to her own class. I don’t pay attention to my surroundings, and my first period passes in a blur. By my second class, I’m a little more alert, and by the third, I know for certain that I’m being watched. And not just watched. Conversations stop when I enter the classroom, heads turn when I pass, and that’s when it hits me. They know. I’m not sure what, but they know something.

  How?

  I settle down in my usual window seat in the second row when several things happen at once: Denielle bursts into the classroom, searching for me, Mr. Hayworth is calling my name, followed by a frantic Rhys coming through the back door of the classroom.

  What the—?

  "Miss McGuire, you’re requested in the principal’s office."

  Both Den and Rhys stand in either doorway, staring at me. I slowly stand up, putting my book back in my bag, unsure of what to do.

  "Why?" comes out as a croak when I focus on my teacher.

  But Mr. Hayworth addresses Rhys instead. "Mister McGuire, this is not your classroom; please return to your floor." He speaks in a curt tone, but Rhys doesn’t budge. Mr. Hayworth is one of the nicest teachers in school. Even when someone gets out of line, he has never used that tone before.

  "I need to talk to Lilly."

  "I think you have done enough. If you don’t leave this classroom, I will call campus security."

  What is going on?

  Sweat starts trickling down my spine. My gaze jumps back and forth between my teacher, Denielle, and Rhys. And while all this is going down, every other set of eyes in the room is locked on me. I slowly take inventory. Two guys in the back are leering at me, two cheerleaders to the left stare with a mixture of disgust and malicious joy, and a group of girls that I barely know glare with pure contempt. The bottom of my stomach plummets.

  I walk toward the front of the room and pass Denielle, who immediately hooks her arm around mine and steers me down the hall to the nearest bathroom. Stragglers are still in the hall, and I’m met with the same variety of expressions. All I can do is let Denielle drag me along. I’m faintly aware that Rhys is following.

  The door closes behind Rhys, who leans against it, and Denielle checks every stall before turning to me.

  "Babe, I’m so sorry." She appears small and distressed when she addresses me. Denielle is anything but those two attributes. She always stands straight, radiating confidence; that’s how she commands every room. But right now, she looks like a little girl, and it sends tremors through my body.

  "What’s going on?"
I rasp out the question. Deep down, I know, but I need one of them to confirm it.

  "Kat knows," Rhys speaks up behind me. I turn and take in his slumped shoulders under his black V-neck sweater, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his faded jeans. He won’t make eye contact with me.

  "Knows what exactly?" I try to sound calm. I mean, that’s a valid question; there is not just one secret surrounding me. My gaze ping pongs back and forth between them as I wait for one of them to speak up.

  Without a word, Denielle holds out her phone, and I’m looking at Katherine’s social media profile. Smack in the middle is a picture of Rhys and me. But not just any picture. The photo is taken from a side angle. I’m wrapped around Rhys, my arms around his neck, my legs around his middle, and his hands on my butt. We’re kissing. It’s the day he surprised me at Denielle’s house.

  I swallow several times. There is too much saliva in my mouth. A sheen of sweat begins to build on my skin as I keep staring, but no matter what, I can’t stop it. I thrust the phone back to Denielle and lurch to the nearest stall. I didn’t eat much today, so there is not really anything to expel from my stomach, but the retching won’t stop.

  I don’t know how long I hover over the not-so-white porcelain, and at some point, someone holds my hair back. When I’m finally done and sit back, Denielle helps me up.

  After cleaning myself up, I take a deep breath. "What else is there?"

  Denielle looks at Rhys before meeting my eyes again. Rhys is still in the same position, and a feeling of dread starts spreading through my body. Our eyes meet for the first time since coming in here, and what I see knocks the wind out of me. His voice is low when he speaks. "Kat has suspected something for a while. She’s as smart as she is cunning. I underestimated her."