“I’m sure she’s on her way home now,” Chris supplied helpfully. “Why don’t you get some rest? Staying up all night won’t help any of us.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Let’s all go to bed.” I stood up and walked over to Ricky, who was crying silently, the beautiful ring resting on his palm. “She’s gonna be okay,” I said, hugging him. He returned the embrace earnestly, tightening his arms around me like he was afraid I would disappear, too . . .
I only hoped my words were true. There was no way we could know. We could try calling her, but if she was in the car, we could risk her getting in an accident—talking on the phone while driving a car in the dark was not the smartest idea—and we needed to give her time.
Before going to bed, Ricky decided that if she hadn’t returned by the morning, he would call the police station. He would give them a few hours to search for her, and then after lunch go look for her himself if they hadn’t located her.
I was uneasy about Ricky going by himself, mostly because of what had happened to Pa, but I knew that Chris and I needed to stick together, and if there was someone behind Pa’s being late, we—or rather Ricky and Chris—didn’t want me to be in any immediate danger.
As I got into bed, I felt a pang of uneasiness rush through me. I was worried sick. I hadn’t been able to apologize to Pa . . . What if something really had happened to her?
I left that thought alone; I was too terrified to accept the vision of the tombstone I could see in my mind’s eye. I felt so horrible. I had gotten so angry with her, and now I didn’t know if I ever could apologize for how I had acted . . .
Fear rushed through me at a feverish rate, and I shivered profusely, despite the fact that I was buried in comforters on Chris’ bed with my back against his chest again.
He noticed I was shivering and pulled my body closer to him.
“Are you all right?” he whispered softly into my ear.
“Just worried,” I replied honestly. “I wish I could have had the chance to apologize for—”
He cut me off. “That doesn’t matter,” he said.
“Yes it does,” I argued softly. “Can’t you understand how that makes me feel? Having this guilt on my conscience? Maybe it was our fight that drove her to leave so early . . . maybe my anger toward her made her act before thinking . . . What if it’s my fault that she’s missing?”
“It isn’t your fault,” he whispered calmly, kissing my neck. “Don’t make me force you to relax,” he said. “That’s the last thing I want to do right now.”
I refused to calm down. My heart was racing with the possibilities running through my mind, and Chris finally intervened.
He placed his hands on my lower back and within seconds, I felt a warm sensation, like the bubbles of a hot tub jet, traveling up my back. I shivered at first, but my resistance began to fade within mere moments. I couldn’t even begin to remember what had been troubling me just a minute before . . .
I fell asleep with Chris’ arms around me, wrapping me in the warm numbness that I yearned to stay in for the rest of eternity, where nothing could scare me, no one could hurt me, and nothing could happen to me.
The next morning arrived earlier than I would have typically liked. Chris was already awake when I sat up in his bed; he was fully dressed and sitting on a chair reading a book.
“You’re up early,” I said groggily.
“I’ve been up for about a half hour,” he said, not taking his eyes from the book, which I noticed was a book on the elements. “Rick didn’t sleep at all last night. I came down around 7 and he was still pacing in front of the door.”
“Oh man . . .” I said as I slapped my forehead. “That lummox . . . . Why didn’t he sleep?”
“Well, 'cause he—”
“Rhetorical,” I said with a playful smile that disappeared seconds after it had spread across my lips.
“Oh,” he said, trying to hide his humor. “Right.”
“I hope he’s okay,” I murmured. “The last thing we need is for him to be exhausted.”
“She still hasn’t come back,” Chris said, finally putting the book down. He sat beside me on the bed and continued. “Rick agreed to sleep, but only after he called the police. So they’re looking now. That gives Rick just about 5 hours to sleep. If you can,” he added, “I suggest you get more sleep as well.”
I shook my head. “I’m awake.”
“Suit yourself,” he replied, reaching out his hand to touch my hair. He began running his fingers through the strands, and suddenly, I was feeling tired again.
“Fine, I’ll sleep,” I said caustically. “You’ll make it happen anyway, so why prolong the inevitable?”
He smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”
I lie back on the pillow again and let my thoughts drift away. The last thing I remember feeling was the touch of Chris’ lips upon my hair.
I woke up again around 11:30, feeling a lot more hopeful than I had just four hours earlier. In about a half hour, if Pa was still not back, Ricky was going to go out on his own, too. As much as I disagreed with him, I didn’t want to get in a fight and have him leave in haste and anger just like Pa.
He was my brother, and I stood by him, right or wrong.
But Ricky was strong; Ricky could fight off whatever it was that had taken Pa.
I walked downstairs to see Ricky about to walk out the door.
“Ricky, wait!” I shouted. He turned to look at me and smiled. I fell into his arms and he embraced me in his strong, muscular arms, warming me to the core with a feeling of security that I yearned to never go away.
“Good thing you woke up, lil’ sis,” he said with a smile. “I was just about to head out.”
“Not yet,” I pleaded. “You don’t have anything to protect yourself.”
He started to protest, but I put a shining finger to his lips and he fell silent. I pointed to the door that led to Chris’ basement.
“Take your weapons with you,” I insisted. “You don’t know what you’ll run into when you find her.”
He consented and left me alone with Chris in the middle of the living room. He was watching me, his sapphire blue eyes cautious. We said nothing until Ricky came back with the two curved knives in his hands. The brown clouds of magnetic dust surrounded his hands the moment he clutched the handles.
“I’m gonna get going now,” he said quietly when he came to stand next to me. I felt the smile leave my face, but I forced myself to smile when I hugged him again.
“Come back soon,” I told him.
He smiled. “I’ll do my best, bud.” He walked over to Chris and slapped him cordially on the back. “Love you, Dess,” he called as he shut the door behind him.
And then we were alone . . .
“Do you know who did these things?” I finally asked him in the silence that was threatening to swallow us.
“I think so,” he replied honestly. “I’m just too afraid to admit the truth.”
“Darkness,” I murmured. “Yeah,” Chris replied. “That’s my hunch. I just hope I’m wrong.”
“I think that’s what we’re all hoping for this time,” I said quietly. “I guess there’s nothing to do now but wait.”
Chris nodded. I was feeling suddenly alone. Sure, Chris was still there, but even he seemed to be drifting away from me. First Pa and our fight, then Ricky and his desire to find her, and now Chris and his confusion . . .
I looked over at Chris and said, “Chris, what if they don’t come back?”
“We have to believe they will,” he said solemnly. “We have to have faith that they’ll be okay.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said pointedly, and he turned his grave face to look into my eyes.
“I don’t know, Dessa,” he answered honestly. “I just don’t know.”
I took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back earnestly, afraid—I imagined—that I would disappear if he let go.
Distraught with worry, I let go of his hand and walked
a few steps away from him. He noticed my anxiety and followed me, putting his arms around me, and saying, “Are you bored?”
I shrugged. “I wish there was more to do than pace here waiting for them . . .” I said, letting my sentence trail off into Pa and Ricky’s death sentence.
I saw Chris smiling seductively, and he whispered in my ear, “Come with me.” His beautiful voice raised the hairs on my neck and I reluctantly followed him up to his room.
He closed the door behind us and began taking off his shirt. Chris’ beautifully sculpted chest took my breath away when he turned to look at me with the most alluring smile I had ever seen. I walked over to him, unable to resist the aura of desire he was projecting toward me . . .
I watched as he undressed and went into the bed, beckoning me with his glowing eyes. He was halfway under the covers; his left calf hung off the side of the bed and his chest was still exposed, causing my heart to pulse with pleasure and longing.
I slipped off my shirt in one fluid motion and watched his reaction as I showed him the creation that now was his. His eyes were full of craving; wanting to touch me . . . I smiled and crawled under the covers beside him.
All reasoning was gone; nothing mattered now except the fact that he was mine. I lie there facing him motionless, until he could stand it no longer. He moaned and moved closer to me, rubbing my back as he pulled my body up against his. I touched my lips to his collar bone, then his jaw, then behind his ear, and I shivered with pleasure when he whispered to me.
I kissed him fervently, letting him know that I couldn’t do this without him, and he kissed me back just as passionately, twisting his tongue in my mouth and reawakening my drive for pleasure.
Deep in the corners of my mind I remembered Pa and Ricky and how worried I was about them, but Chris was the primary focus of my mind. All I could think about was him; the feeling of his arms around me, the feeling of his lips as they gently kissed my body from head to toe.
My smile spread across my face and mirrored itself onto his, while he pushed the covers back to give our bodies some air. The air was brittle and cold, though, so he quickly replaced the covers, searching visually for his clothes and mine.
I finally spotted them over by his dresser and pointed to them. He saw where I was gesturing and got out of the bed quickly, grabbed all of our clothes, and darted back under the covers to nestle up beside me.
“Why is it so cold?” I asked quizzically.
“I have no clue,” he replied. “Maybe we should get dressed.”
I looked at him with a fake pouty face and said, “Fine. I’ll get dressed.”
We both got dressed and Chris walked over to the dresser where he had laid his phone.
“Dessa . . .” he said, holding the phone out to me. There on his screen, the tiny letters spelled out that there was a message he had just received; it was from Ricky.
“Has he found her?” I asked, my heart surging with hope.
Chris opened the message and frowned. “No. Not yet. He said he’ll keep looking for a few more hours and then come back.”
I felt my heart sink to the floor. “I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is,” Chris assured me. “Pa’s a smart woman; she knows how to protect herself.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” I admitted reluctantly. “But I just can’t do anything more to distract myself. I feel completely useless.”
“I know,” he said gently, pulling me into a hug. “It’s going to get better; like I said before: we just have to have hope.”
I smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I spent the next few hours walking around the yard outside. The sun shined brightly over the leaf-covered grass, giving the chilled air a feeling of warmth. A few birds lounged lazily in the birdbath, and a doe and her fawn crossed in front of the fountain to drink from the water.
I trailed my fingers in the water and felt the rejuvenating feeling that rushed through me by simply touching the mystical waters that flowed from the five elements standing above me.
As the hours past, the sun traveled lower and lower on the skyline until the trees eventually swallowed it, blanketing the land in darkness. I knew that the sun would emerge again, but even being in the shadows with no light around me made me feel uneasy.
I stood up in the gradually increasing darkness and headed back to the house. I glanced at the clock on the wall just inside the front door, and I sighed in anticipation.
Ricky should have been home by now. It was already 7:00, and it was already starting to get dark. Chris ran into the room, a smile upon his face.
“What is it?” I asked as he seized me by the arms.
He hugged me tightly and pushed me gently away so we were arms-length apart. Then he pulled out his phone and showed me the text message.
“He found her! It’s going to be okay!”
Ricky’s Despair
I shouted with happiness at the wonderful piece of news. Chris hugged me until I had to beg him to let go from lack of air, and I starting running around in circles with joy.
“Oh, thank God!” I exclaimed. “She’s okay!”
“Yeah, they both are,” Chris said after we had both calmed down. “He said they should be back in about a half hour or so.”
“Where was she this whole time?” I asked.
Chris stared at me. “Rick said she was at Skylar’s house.”
“I knew it!” I spat angrily. “I just knew he was going to hurt her—”
“But she isn’t harmed,” Chris objected. “At least not bodily, anyway. Rick said she seems really tired and a little pissed off, but he didn’t see any injuries.”
“That’s strange,” I admitted. “If Skylar is . . .”
“What?” Chris asked when I stopped speaking. I didn’t hear him; my thoughts were too busy colliding with one another.
Pa had disappeared and been found at Skylar’s house with no physical injuries, yet she seemed extremely tired and angry. In my vision, Skylar had been talking to himself, and while doing that, had said that Darkness had agreed to give him Paola in exchange for awakening her. The only reason she needed to be reawakened was to get rid of me . . .
I had a bad feeling about Pa’s condition; sure, she might be physically unharmed, but what about psychologically?
Had Skylar somehow convinced her that I was her enemy? Did she now think that we were the bad ones for being angry with her? I really wished I could’ve apologized, but hopes for that were all but extinguished now.
“Never mind,” I said. “I just got thinking that maybe something did happen to Pa.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly intrigued.
“Think about it, Chris,” I urged him. “Skylar wants revenge on us for taking Pa away from him. Darkness shows up, bribes him—using Pa as the bait—to help her, and now Pa turns up missing, found at Skylar’s house with no physical injuries?
“Come on, Chris, there’s no way she’s 100% okay. No way she's perfectly fine after being with Skylar for over 24 hours.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “We’ll have to be sure that she’s okay,” he said. “It does sound strange when you put it that way,” he admitted, “but we can’t jump to any conclusions.”
“Was she alone when Ricky found her?” I asked in a strained voice.
“From what he told me, he said he found Pa in Skylar’s house, which was deserted—”
“Good enough,” I answered in a clipped tone. My worries were steadily growing larger and larger. Had she been alone? Or was Ricky lying for her?
The half hour passed slowly, but in exactly thirty minutes, Ricky drove up in his car with Pa in the passenger seat. My brother wasn’t usually this punctual, so that was the first thing that irked me.
The next thing was the look Pa gave me when she entered the room. She stared at me like I was a wild animal and I was about to lose my temper and bite her leg off if she didn’t run from me.
“Pa,” I said happily, glad she wa
s physically unharmed. “I wanted to apologize for earlier yesterday. I shouldn’t have acted that way, and I hope you can forgive me.”
I moved closer to her and pulled her into an embrace. I felt my heart sink to the floor when she didn't return my hug, and flinched away from the sting in her voice.
“Apology accepted,” she snapped caustically. “You should learn to control your temper,” she advised with an angry smile.
“My temper?” I asked in a quiet, cutting tone. “You know what?” I asked. “It’s in the past. I admit to my mistake, so please let’s just forget about it, okay?”
“Fine by me,” she replied, and stalked off toward the bedrooms. I stared at Ricky incredulously, but he could only shrug.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” Ricky answered in a worried voice. I had never seen his face like that: fatigued, worried, and afraid. “She barely said a word to me on the way home from Skylar’s. And it took everything I had to get her to leave.”
“What?” Chris and I pressed at the same time.
“She said she didn’t want to leave. I told her she wasn’t safe there, but she insisted that she stay there . . .”
“That’s really strange,” I replied honestly. “That’s not like Pa. She hated Skylar. The whole point of this was to move all her stuff out . . . So what happened to change her that drastically?”
“I don’t know,” Ricky repeated again. “It’s starting to scare me. I mean, she won’t even hold my hand anymore . . .”
He trailed off in a pained voice and looked away from us.
“Maybe Skylar has something to do with it,” Chris said, almost as though he could read my trail of thoughts.
“He most certainly did,” I retorted. “He had everything to do with her strange behavior.” I paused and turned so I was facing both of them. “Don’t you find it a bit coincidental that Skylar’s siding with Darkness? And that she got what she wanted from Skylar? Why would Skylar ever do anything for anyone else?”
I stopped to see if either of them would answer my question, but neither of them spoke up.
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