Darkness Before Dawn

by Contreras, Claire

  I watch his face ashen in surprise. "I...sold it. Why?"

  "Who did you sell it to?"

  "Cole," Camden says dragging a hand over his face. "Why are you asking me about that place?"

  I clench my jaw. "Blake thought it was her grandfather's farm..."

  "It was originally," he replies tiredly. "He gave it to me when I was a kid because I loved it so much. Don't you remember all of us spending our summers there? I couldn't keep it after you were taken. That was your favorite place in the world. I couldn't bear to look at it without you."

  I nod my head, but don't reply. That was my favorite place, but I don't remember ever going there as a family.

  "The only reason I loved going there so much was because of Blake," I mutter under my breath.

  He chuckles. "You were a kid. I'm not going to say you didn't enjoy playing with her, but you always liked going, with or without her."

  "Trust me, I only liked going because I thought she was going to be there."

  He shakes his head. "Okay, if you say so. Just let Brian do what he can, okay?"

  "Sure."

  After we leave their house, I drop off Aimee feeling no better than I did on the way there. My heart still aches, my muscles feel exhausted, my eyes still burn, and my mind is burnt out. The only thing I can think about is Blake and wonder where they took her. Wonder if they're feeding her and what they're doing to her. I look in the rearview mirror when I come to a stop light and all I see is a life-less soul staring back at me. The pain in my eyes no longer a visitor, but a full time resident. He and his buddy rage have taken over every ounce of me and I'm not sure if they'll ever get out; not sure if I want them to until I get my girl.

  A honking car behind me makes me tear my eyes away from myself and look at the streets before me. I call Mark and practically beg him to get somebody in his family to help me get Blake. He finally caves and tells me to go to his house for drinks with him and his nephew. I don't question him before speeding over to his condo before he changes his mind or makes up some bullshit excuse.

  I hand my keys over to the valet and jog to the elevator. As soon as I get in, I hear someone call out for me to hold the door open for them. Fucking A, of course somebody needs to get into the damn elevator at the same time I do. I push down to hold it and slide an arm between the closing doors as I wait for an old lady with an oversized purse and grocery bag to catch up and come inside. I smile politely and step aside, pressing down the button to the forty-fifth floor again.

  I'm still replaying the incident at Camden and Colleen's house when I reach his door and snap out of my thoughts when it swings open before I knock. Standing on the other side, holding it open for me is a younger version of Mark.

  "Who are you?" I ask, confused.

  He has a scar on his top lip that spreads slightly when he smiles. He's a big guy too, I notice as I size him up. I'm thinking he probably weighs about 220, and he's a little taller than me, so probably 6'3.

  "I'm Connor. I would ask who the fuck you are, but Uncle Mark doesn't have people over too much. I'm guessing you're Cole?" he asks, his voice full of amusement.

  "Yeah," I reply as we shake hands. "Uncle Mark, huh?"

  "Yep."

  I turn around and look at Connor again. He looks so familiar, but I can't really place him.

  "You still not done checking me out, bro?" he asks with a smirk.

  I take a step back. "I'm not checking you out. You just look familiar."

  He snickers. "Yeah, I get that a lot after the arrest. They made a big fucking deal and accused me of attacking a city employee outside of city hall."

  "Ohhhh yeah," I draw out after realization dawns on me. "Well, did you?"

  He laughs and puts his hands up defensively. "I cannot confirm nor deny that. My attorney is in the shower. He must be present to make any statement about my whereabouts that day."

  "Impressive."

  Mark steps out of his room wearing sweats and a T-shirt. "What's up, Cole? You met Connor. Connor, Cole is the missing kid."

  "That's right. The kid Benny took?" Connor asks, obviously familiar with the story. The way he says their names surprises me, it sounds like he knows them, but I'm not about to ask him any personal questions. Mark was there that night, I know that much, but I never considered that he could have been friendly with the other men that took us.

  Connor sighs and runs his hand over his buzz cut hair. "Well, I met Blake yesterday," he says over a mouthful of chips.

  That stops me dead in my tracks. "What?" I ask, feeling my heart rate quicken. "MY Blake? What the fuck do you mean you met her yesterday?" My stomach drops when I run through everything I was doing yesterday when this dude was meeting my lost girlfriend.

  "And that's why I haven't handed you your beer yet," Mark mutters under his breath.

  I glare at Mark before looking back to Connor. "What the fuck do you mean you met Blake?" I ask through gritted teeth.

  Connor puts down his beer and rubs his forehead. "I met her-" he says quietly before looking at Mark for reassurance. Mark nods and shrugs his shoulders.

  I take a deep breath and grab on to the back of the couch before I take the fucker down on Mark's glass coffee table. "Can you just cut to the chase?"

  "Well, I went to my girlfriend's house yesterday to pick her up, and Dean brought Blake into the kitchen to eat while I was in there. She freaked out when she saw me…I guess I kind of did too. I mean—I knew she would look like her mom, but damn. Not that I ever saw her mom, obviously, but pictures. I talked to Dean a little but she just sat there playing with her food before they went back to the basement. Dean said he's gonna help me get her out. She's fine, though. She looks...I mean...she looks good, considering." His shoulders slump and he sits down.

  "Considering what? That she's been fucking kidnapped?" I shout desperately.

  He crinkles his eyebrows and I see the uncertainty in his blue eyes before he clears his throat. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm getting her out of there."

  "Connor," Mark starts in a warning tone before I interrupt him.

  "Mark, shut up and let the kid talk!" I say, exasperated.

  "Dean and I talked about it. They're having a huge party in a couple of days and won't notice if she slips out. It'll be quick." Connor shrugs before Mark's laughter cuts his words short.

  "It'll be quick?" Mark asks in disbelief. "You know how Benny and Alex work. Hell, you know how Jamie works. You've been around their shit long enough to know nothing is ever that simple."

  Connor gets up from the couch and crosses over to stand in front of Mark. "What the fuck do you think is gonna happen when Uncle Liam finds out about this shit? You think he's gonna call Jamie and be all fine and dandy about it?"

  "Jamie doesn't even know about it!" Mark shouts, making Connor's brows rise to his hairline as I sit there watching on.

  "Ha! You think Jamie doesn't know? Damn, Uncle Mark, you're a dumb sonofabitch sometimes. No disrespect," Connor replies, raising his hands in defense.

  Mark scowls at him. "He would've called Pops by now if he knew!"

  Connor sucks his teeth. "You think Dad and Grandpa always give you the inside scoop or something? You're a lawyer, dude!"

  "First of all, WHO THE FUCK IS DEAN? And can someone get a pen and paper and start drawing out the family trees and everyone's connection to everyone else?" I demand. And I mean it, this shit gets exhausting and keeping up is impossible. I should've brought Aubry so he could give me the cliff notes on these people and their complicated issues.

  Connor laughs and walks over to me, sitting on the couch in front of me, as Mark follows him and takes a seat on the other side of the couch I'm on.

  "Dean's a good guy, don't worry about him, he's family. Anyway, Alex and Benny are the guys that took Blake. They work for Jamie. Blake's parents and them go way back. Like waaaay back. They were all best friends, grew up together, ran with the same crowds. They were all friends until Benny started fucking shit up," Connor explains befo
re taking a swig of beer.

  Talk about information overload. I think my brain just exploded. I sit here dumbly staring at Connor for a bit with my mouth hanging open, still processing everything and trying to figure out why, but still come up blank. I just keep mulling over the Dean is family part.

  "What do you mean Dean's family? Whose family is he?" I ask.

  Connor exhales. "Look, like I said, our families used to be close. Even after that whole thing went down, some of us stayed close. You have nothing to worry about with Dean. Benny's the scariest motherfucker in the equation."

  I shake my head. "You guys use the term family really fucking loosely. So why did they take me and Blake? Why the hell did they take you?" I ask Mark, turning my body to face him.

  Mark shrugs. "Wrong place, wrong time. Benny started complicating things when your dad was working in the city and Jamie O'Brien and Brian Benson couldn't come to an agreement over some stuff. There was a lot of money involved, Benny took it a step further and kidnapped you and Blake. I still don't know why the fuck they took me, to be entirely honest with you. I've learned to let it go though. I got sick of trying to figure it all out, and I was fine with knowing that you and Blake were safe. At least I did something right."

  I nod in agreement and appreciation because he's right, if it wasn't for him, who knows where we'd be right now. I just can't believe all of these people were friends before all of this and lost their ties because of one guy.

  "Why did that Benny guy start so much shit? What's his deal?" I ask curiously.

  "He's a psycho, that's his deal," Connor says, as Mark nods his head in agreement.

  "He's never been right in the head, but I think greed is the root of his problem," Mark adds.

  "We're all greedy," Connor mutters below his breath.

  "Yeah, and we're all fucked up," Mark replies with a shrug before taking another swig of beer.

  I've been staring at the door, waiting for Dean to come in any minute, but the minute never seems to come. I've already been to the bathroom ten times since I woke up, and each time I feel like somebody is drilling my lower back—that's how much it hurts. I run my hands over my neck for what seems like the millionth time since I've been here. I was wearing the necklace Cole gave me the day they took me, and I miss having it around my neck. Not that I need it to remember him, but I hate that they took it from me. When will they stop taking? I don't even want the answer to that question.

  My ears perk up when I hear the door unlock quietly, followed by the quickening heart when I see Dean appear in the threshold wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black hooded sweater that's fitted to his body. His hair is damp and messy, not his usual style. We haven't spoken about the moment we shared the other day. In fact, we haven't spoken much at all. He's been here every day since, but our conversations are always short and to the point. He asks how I'm feeling, gives me my food, and leaves. Sometimes I could swear he's standing right outside the door and the thought that he'd rather leave me alone here bothers me endlessly. It was nothing, dammit!

  My eyes travel down his body and I notice the brown paper bag in his hand as he strides over to me and sits down beside me.

  "Hungry?" he asks casually.

  I nod and he hands me the bag. When I open it I find a sandwich, chips and a can of pop.

  "Are you going to talk to me or run away like a little girl?" I ask when I finish chewing my first bite. His chuckle makes my eyes roam over his lips before I look into his eyes.

  "I haven't been running away like a little girl, chick. I just...it's not right for me to have almost done that and then come back in here wanting to do more. It's just not right. Even I know that."

  The side of my lip twitches. "Since when do you care about what's right or wrong?"

  "Are you testing me? If you start testing me, I'll cave," he says with a half smile, walking closer to me.

  I shake my head vigorously and put my hands up. "Nah, I think we should just be friends."

  He stops walking and laughs loudly, throwing his head back. "It's not you, it's me?"

  I crinkle my nose. "Something like that," I reply with a laugh.

  And just like that, we're back to being us.

  "Tonight's the big party here," he whispers as I take a sip of Coke. "I'm going to leave the door unlocked for you and this under the bed." He pulls out a small flip phone from his back pocket and slides it under the mattress. "Listen to me very fucking carefully, Blake, because I don't want this to get fucked up. You don't use that phone—period. I call you, it vibrates, you get it and do not pick it up. You'll see Unknown Caller on the screen, and you get up, turn the bathroom light on, lock the door and close it. Then you leave this room and go the back way to the right of the kitchen, everyone will be in the yard. You open the front door and fucking run— not walk, not jog—you fucking run, do you understand?" he whispers harshly.

  I nod, my eyes wide, mouth slack just staring at him. "And then what?" I whisper back softly.

  "You run out of the gates and make a right, my truck will be there. If you're not there twelve minutes after I call you, I'm coming for you."

  "Okay."

  "Okay? This is important shit, Blake. We can't fuck up," he says, his eyes growing serious. "Run it by me. Tell me everything you're going to do."

  So I do.

  Three times.

  I tell him step by step exactly what I'll do when the phone under my mattress vibrates. By the time I repeat it a third time, my words are strained and I have tears in my eyes because it's real and I can't believe I'm finally getting the hell out of here. As he stands up, he eyes me sadly and cups the back of my head, gently tugging the hair in my ponytail and tilting my head to place a soft kiss on the top of my head.

  "Everything will be fine, chick. I'll see you later," he whispers before walking out and closing the door. I hold my breath and lean forward on the mattress, sitting on pins and needles, waiting to hear whether or not the door will lock. When I can no longer hold my breath, I exhale, my heart beating erratically at the realization that he left it unlocked. This is real. I'm that much closer to my escape. After looking at the back of the door for what feels like an eternity, I stand and pace back and forth a couple of times while rubbing my lower back with both hands. I plop down on the mattress and look around the empty, dark room. The only light shining is coming from the squiggly lines on the messed up TV on the old brown dresser. I am so not going to miss this place. When the pain in my lower back begins to worsen again, I close my eyes and lie on the bed, placing an arm over my eyes even though I'm trying to fight my exhaustion in efforts to stay awake. I can't miss the call.

  Eventually, I gasp awake at muffled vibrations and sit up quickly, sliding my hand under the mattress to get the flip phone. My heart hammers against my chest when I read Unknown Caller on the screen. I clutch it in my hands and get up swiftly, moaning from the pain in my back that I no longer have time to worry about. I speed to the bathroom and flip the light on, look around and blink away the tears that threaten to surface as I recall the dreadful memories I've had in here. I turn around and step back into the room, locking and closing the bathroom door behind me. I leave the television on and put on the pair of tattered flip flops they gave me before heading to the door. I roll up my too-long-to-walk sweats up to my knees and place one hand on the knob, taking a deep breath.

  Butterflies swarm my core as I turn the doorknob and open the door slowly, sticking my head out to make sure nobody is around. I tiptoe out and close it quietly behind me before placing the lock on it. I allow myself to dwell on it for a couple of seconds before shaking my head and continuing to tiptoe toward the stairs. A shiver runs through me as I ascend to the main story of the house, standing for a count of two and rocking on my heels as I clutch on to the doorknob with a shaky hand. I slip off my sandals after I turn the knob and open it slightly, listening acutely to the muted conversations. I tuck my head in, tilting it to the right, then left before stepping out and shuttin
g the door behind me. I stride to the right, walking as quickly as I can on the palms of my feet, passing the kitchen entrance, a formal living room, a dual staircase and lavish entryway before I reach the front door. The house is well lit but quiet on this side, just as Dean said it would be since the party is going on out back. I open the door and breathe a sigh of relief when the fresh air greets me. I bend down to slip my feet back into the sandals and look at the phone in my hand, but it's still blank. I contemplate opening it and calling the police, Cole, anybody, but Dean's words ring louder than my gut feeling, so I opt against it. I continue my walk across the vast lawn, listening to Frank's Sinatra's melodic voice and the mix of men's loud chatter and women's laughter.

  I am thoroughly disgusted that they are having a full on party, all while thinking that I'm locked up in their basement. A part of me wants to run out there, scream my head off and let everybody know that they kidnapped me, but the smarter part of me just wants to get out of here as soon as possible. My breathing is ragged as I continue shuffling my feet to the gate, which I'm supposed to walk out of and meet Dean on the other side. I pick up the pace a little when I reach it and hold one of the cool iron bars between my hands, pulling it a little. When it doesn't budge, I put my strength into it, pulling it with both hands. I let out a breath and wipe my sweaty hands over my sweats before trying again. A sudden sharp pain stabs my abdomen, making me gasp and let go of the bars to place my hands on my midriff. I look down at myself and squeeze my eyes shut. "We're going to be okay. We're going to be okay. I'm going to get us out of here," I whisper, channeling this baby and praying for our safety.

  The sound of rustling behind me jars me out of my thoughts and makes my head snap in that direction. My stomach drops when I see a large figure approaching me in the darkness. I don't need light or sound to tell me who it is, I'd know that body, that walk, anywhere. The fact that it's coming my way causes my heart to kick into overdrive. I whimper, turning my body slightly to hold on to the bars and begin to pull again with all my might, making the gate finally creek in motion.