Seeing Black

by Sidney Halston

  Seeing Black

  Sidney Halston

  Seeing Black

  Sidney Halston

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2013 Sidney Halston

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Theresa Wegand

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!

  -Alice from Alice in Wonderland

  Prologue

  Jillian walked into her bedroom right after breakfast. She instinctively walked straight to the bed and reached between the mattress and the box spring. Tucked deep in the center was a thin and tattered leather-bound journal with the initials PB inscribed on the lower right hand corner. Somewhere, hidden within her subconscious, she knew she had to read this journal. Why? She wasn’t sure. In fact, she couldn’t comprehend how she’d even known it was there. But it was there, hidden, calling for her, and she had to read it. Why? Because Jill couldn’t remember who she was.

  Nervous, confused, she opened the journal to the first page.

  Jillian,

  I know you’re confused, but this journal should help you remember in your moments of haziness. These are the important facts that you need to know, and you must make every effort to remember.

  You’re imprisoned at Rocco’s home! Even if you think you can escape—you can’t. Surely, you woke up wonderfully relaxed, yet you don’t know why you’re there. You know every maid, butler, ranch hand, and doctor that you come across today, yet you won’t know how you know them. All you remember is that you arrived at the mansion yesterday. You’ve had no connection with anyone, not Xander, not Oly, not Heather. No one!

  Your name is Jillian Stone. Say it out loud, not too loud or you’ll be heard. I am Jillian Stone. Repeat it. You were marooned on a deserted island from the time you were one month old until you were rescued and subsequently sent to boarding school at the age of twelve. Your mother, Esther, died on impact, and until recently, you had never known your father, Rocco Taylor. Helen, your mother’s sister, raised you and your best friends, Alexander and Oliver Jacobs. Alexander is your boyfriend, but boyfriend doesn’t quite cover it. It’s too tame a word. He’s your lover and best friend; he’s your everything. This is something I don’t need to write because you remember. Just close your eyes and think about him, and you’ll remember. Reach out for him with your soul, and you’ll find him because not one day have you forgotten about Alexander. A tinge of pain in your heart, a breathless moment, the sight of the blue ocean that reminds you of his eyes—something always brings your thoughts back to him even if only briefly. There are a lot of important blanks to fill in, but the most important thing you need to remember right now is that you have to make an effort every day to remember who you are, who I am.

  If you have any questions about this journal or doubt that you wrote it yourself, keep reading and add to it. Add something that makes you feel at home, something that keeps you grounded, something about Helen. Add to it every day because it will help keep you focused.

  Jillian

  With bated breath, Jill nervously turned to the next page.

  Jill, remember who you are. These are some words from the woman who had always helped guide you along the way.

  Life is for most of us a continuous process of getting used to things we hadn't expected.

  -Helen

  Then the next page . . .

  It’s amazing how someone can break your heart but you still love them with all the broken little pieces.

  -Helen

  There was page after page of quotations, sayings and entries full of words and stories. Reading it would take hours. The amount was overwhelming, and each quotation or entry seemed to be written on different days. How long had she been there? Jill hugged the journal. She clung to it for support—mental and physical. Her mouth agape, she whispered, “Helen.” That was her way home.

  Even now, five years after her death, Helen’s sayings kept her centered. She continued reading. There were funny sayings, cute sayings, insightful sayings, and everything in between. Every time she read one, she remembered more—mustered more strength—became more Jillian and less some helpless person she didn’t recognize, a shell without control of her thoughts. Right before she closed the journal and tucked it back under her mattress, she grabbed the pen on top of her nightstand, flipped to the next empty page, and, as instructed, added:

  You can close your eyes to things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.

  -Helen

  She may not remember much, but in her mind’s eye, she remembered Helen’s sayings, and suddenly she knew where she was and who she was, and what she was, was scared.

  Terrified.

  Chapter 1

  Jillian

  Months earlier . . .

  Live life so completely that when death comes to you like a thief in the night there will be nothing left for him to steal.

  -Helen

  What a difference a day makes! Actually, four days.

  In the last four days, Jillian had returned to the island she’d grown up on after twelve years, met her psychic father, finally realized she was in love with Alexander instead of his twin brother Oliver, discovered that Paul was a psycho-liar who had used her to get to Rocco, and most frighteningly, she had been blackmailed in her own mind! On top of the already monumental amount of stress, she had missed two days of school, which was driving her mad, it was almost midnight after traveling almost eighteen hours, and she had to wake up the next morning at six to be in class massively jetlagged.

  As she unpacked, she thought about the very eventful trip back to the island. Although she should have been worried—worried being an understatement—that one of her father’s henchmen was trying to intimidate her into visiting Rocco as soon as she returned, she refused to focus on that at the moment. A smile penetrated her worry when she thought about Alexander. She was still feeling the lingering effects of his goodbye kisses when he’d dropped her off just an hour ago: a soft whisper of a kiss below her ear, another one on her forehead, one on her cheek, another on the small indentation under her throat, and then finally a long lust-filled kiss on her lips. The tingle still lingered in each spot.

  “Are you decent?” Heather asked from the other side of Jill’s bedroom door.

  “As if that mattered, come in,” Jill replied.

  Heather swung Jill’s bedroom d
oor open and, with the normal spring in her step, plopped herself on Jill’s bed. “Oh, honey, please, get that stupid grin off your face. It’s getting repulsive. You know how when you eat chocolate cake it’s delicious and yummy but after a while it can get a little nauseating because it’s just too rich?”

  Jill nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. Your point being?”

  “Honey, you’re that chocolate cake. I love seeing you happy, but please, just stop. It’s nauseating already.” She grabbed one of Jill’s pillows and playfully threw it at her.

  “So you’re here specifically to rain on my parade?”

  “No. I’m here to talk about the long overdue surprise birthday party for Alex and Oliver.”

  “Now? It’s close to midnight. I’m so tired. Can’t we talk about it tomorrow. Their birthday was a month ago. I’m sure they can wait an extra day.”

  “Noooo,” Heather whined. “I’m super hyper. I’m too wound up. I can’t sleep. Let’s talk about the party.”

  “I don’t know, Heather. I don’t even think they’re big birthday-party kind of guys. How can you have so much energy? I’m dreading this mountain of laundry.”

  “Stop doing laundry, then.” Heather said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It hadn’t even occurred to Jill not to do laundry as soon as she got back. Damn, screw laundry! How liberating, she thought. Laundry could wait. Sleep couldn’t, but laundry? Yep, it could wait.

  “You’re right. Laundry can wait. I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

  Heather pouted. “Wait. The party. Let’s talk about the party. Oliver promised. He said once he healed from the accident I could throw him a party. The accident and his birthday happened almost a month ago. Between his healing and all your daddy drama, we—”

  “Hey! I don’t have daddy drama.”

  “Oh, sugar. You have more daddy drama than an episode of the Maury Povich show, but that’s not the point. The point is Oliver’s healed, and we can’t just ignore their birthdays. You only turn twenty-three once. Come on, please, pretty please.” She bounced on her knees on Jill’s bed while displaying her best puppy-dog face.

  “Fine, Heather. Count me in. What’s the plan?”

  “Eek!” She looked like a circus seal as she bounced up and down, clapping. Jill shook her head and laughed. “I’m thinking this weekend. We’ll surprise them. We can have it right here. You can invite some of y’all’s friends from school and some of my friends too. We’ll keep it small—fifty people max.”

  “This weekend! Fifty people!” Jill squealed. “I won’t be recovered from this crazy trip by then. It’s practically Tuesday now. That only leaves three days to plan, and fifty people? That’s not small. That’s a lot of people. I don’t think we even know fifty people.”

  “Fifty people is nothing. My parties back home were never less than a hundred people: close family and friends of Mama and Daddy plus my friends. I remember one big ol’ party we had when I was five. The theme was the Smurfs. I used to love seeing reruns of the Smurfs on TV. My mama threw me this big party, and everything was blue. All the food and decorations were blue, and no one was allowed in if they wore anything other than blue.”

  “Smurfs?” Jill asked, confused. “Like from the movie?”

  “Yeah, you know, the blue cartoons, the little elf things. The movies now are remakes from the old cartoon television show. Don’t you remember?”

  Still looking dumbfounded, Jill shook her head.

  “OMG! You don’t know who the Smurfs are? What rock have you been living under, honey?”

  “I love when you curse in acronyms.” Jill laughed and then reminded Heather, “Not a rock, an island.”

  “Oh, honey, bless your deprived little heart. I’m such an idiot. Of course you wouldn’t have watched the Smurfs or anything else for that matter.”

  “Nope. No little elf things or any other thing that happened pretty much the entire decade of the nineties. No cable TV on the island, can you believe it?” she said, sarcastically.

  “That’s it.” Heather clasped her hands together, proudly. “That’s our theme. You missed the nineties, so we’ll do a nineties-themed party!” Heather squealed again but then slumped down slightly. “Well, the nineties were kind of weird: grunge, somber, not so fun.” After a second, she was bouncing up and down again. “Let’s do eighties. That’s more fun! It’ll be like a retro-lesson on the eighties for you and the guys.”

  Clueless, all Jill could do was nod.

  “Don’t get too excited, sugar. I wouldn’t want you to burst.” Heather laughed as she jumped off the bed, undoubtedly beginning her party planning.

  “What can I do to help?” Jill asked. Heather stopped and looked up in thought. After a moment she said, “You only have two assignments.” She ticked off with her fingers, “One, Google the eighties so that you can find your costume, and, two, get the boys here Saturday night.” As she left, she stopped. “Oh! One other thing, get a costume for the twins too. So three things. I’ll take care of the rest,” she said as she sauntered off.

  With all the mess surrounding Jill’s life at the moment, a party was not something she had expected. However, after not having been with the twins for the last twelve years, she was excited to share a birthday with them. Rocco and his men would have to wait a few more days. She gave herself a fourth task: come up with a plan to visit Rocco without Heather, Oliver, or Alexander finding out. Meeting with Rocco soon was imperative, possibly life-saving. She couldn’t delay it much longer. In fact, she was surprised she hadn’t received any other menacing messages from Rocco’s people.

  She felt her phone vibrate. A new text message icon lighted her phone.

  Alexander: Coming to pick you up.

  Jill: You just left here.

  Alexander: I know. But I miss you. On my way.

  Jill: But I’m so tired. Was going to go to bed. My bed. Alone. Recovering.

  Alexander: Bed? That’s perfect. So was I. I’m great with recovery. ; ) It’s a specialty of mine. Be there in ten minutes, and you’re coming with me, even if I have to club you over the head and drag you to my cave.

  Jill: Neanderthal.

  Alexander: You’ve got no idea, babe. See you in a few.

  “Again with the grin.” Heather rolled her eyes as she hovered by the doorframe of Jill’s room. “I’ve decided I’m going as She-Ra. Google it.” With an evil little laugh, she walked out of Jill’s room again.

  Even tired and feeling rushed that Alexander would be there soon, curiosity still got the best of Jill, so she couldn’t resist booting up her laptop. Quickly, she searched “She-Ra” and laughed out loud. Clearly, Heather was going to go all out, and if she was going as She-Ra, Jill knew exactly what costume she’d get Oliver.

  Fifteen minutes later, Alexander walked into her room and plopped down on the bed.

  “I’m the only one who hasn’t had a chance to lie down on my bed. It’s where everyone wants to talk.” She smiled as she finished towel drying her hair.

  “Hurry up, babe. I’m tired, and we have class early tomorrow,” Alexander said.

  “I know! That’s why I told you to stay home. We’ve been inseparable for the last few days. Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

  Alexander stood and took two long strides towards her. Ordinarily, Alexander was a goof. He was silly and playful and sexy as hell without trying. Even though he was extremely intelligent, to the point of landing a full academic scholarship to law school, one would think he lacked substance by his nonchalant demeanor. But boy did the man have substance, especially with Jill. When he wanted to make a point, he got serious and intense. This was one of those times. He pulled her by her waist. Her towel fell. His eyes shined a deep blue, and he was serious, very serious. “For twenty-three years, I’ve been waiting for you. Now that I have you, now that I know how you taste and how you feel against my body, I will never ever get tired of you.” He nuzzled her neck, and a little involuntary gasp escaped her lips. His lips came cr
ashing down on her. She couldn’t answer, but she couldn’t pull away either. Her nipples tightened, and she pressed closer to him, plastering herself close to his body. She forgot all about the doctor, Rocco, laundry, the Smurfs, She-Ra, and even her own name.

  When his lips finally released her, her breath caught. “As soon as I arrived home, I felt stupid for not bringing you with me. It felt wrong being apart,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know how you feel. Even though I was tired, I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone. We can sleep here, you know?”

  “Um, no, we can’t. Your bed sucks. It’s small and uncomfortable. It’s dorm-issued.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “Okay, fine. Let me just grab a few things.” She stuffed some clothes in a small duffle bag, grabbed the same necessity bag that she had yet to unpack, and left with Alexander.

  “Here. You drive.” Jill tossed him her keys. He looked at her and then to his bike, not understanding. “It’s chilly out tonight, and I’m tired and have my bags. Can we just please go in the car. Leave your bike here.”

  Alexander grunted but reluctantly agreed.

  ***

  KA BOOM KA BOOM KA BOOM.

  “What the fuck?” Jill jumped off the bed, tripped over a pair of men’s sneakers, and hit her head on the nightstand on her way up as she looked around for exploding bombs.

  “Relax. It’s just my alarm clock.” A sleepy Alexander reached over, slammed the snooze button, and went back to sleep.

  “That is the most annoying noise I’ve ever heard. Ever. Fuck. I think I broke my head.”

  “You’re cursing, babe.” Alexander mumbled in a half-sleep state.

  “Oh, shut up.” Jill climbed back into bed. “I don’t remember falling asleep. Actually, the last thing I remember is giving you my car keys.”

  “I know. You passed out in the car, and I had to carry you to bed.”

  Jill looked down at her nude body and added sarcastically, “And take off my clothes.”