Awaken: Book 1 of the Dark Paradise Trilogy

by Isadora Brown

  Keirah was numb when she hung up the phone. Had she just agreed to go down there, into the lion’s den? Even though she was a legal adult, she still felt afraid and wanted nothing more than to hide under her covers and pretend this was nothing more than a dream. Commissioner Jarrett had thrust a heavy burden of responsibility on her shoulders that she couldn’t ignore. A man’s life was on the line. She couldn’t say no. But she could tell Andie.

  After changing into the most comfortable, professional attire she could find with a pair of ballet flats and her long hair pulled into a messy ponytail, she crept into Andie’s room. She attempted to wake Andie up and tried to tell her sleep-ridden sister she had to leave without worrying her. If Andie was worried, she was nothing short of frazzled. However, it was difficult for her to find the proper words to do this without instilling any fear into her sister, so she only said, “Andie, there’s been an emergency and Dr. Hawkins needs me to help her with something.”

  “Key, it’s the middle of the night,” Andie mumbled, closing her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine.” Keirah knew that if Andie had been fully awake, she would know Keirah had been lying. The inability to tell a convincing lie was the one thing the two sisters had in common, but there were times, like this one, where they still got away with one. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you in school tomorrow. Oh, and don’t tell Mom, okay?”

  Andie made a grunt of assent and turned, pulling the covers tighter against her frame. Keirah smiled and left. After locking the apartment, she sprinted to her car to get her blood flowing. Once she slid into her cold vehicle, she turned on the engine and pressed the heater button.

  Rubbing her hands together, she wondered what the hell she was doing. Noir wanted her to help him fall asleep? What did that mean? Maybe he was using that as some sort of excuse. Her head started to hurt as she tried to rationalize her current situation. All she knew was that she noticed his lack of sleep due to his body’s uncontrollable twitching. When her car was warm, she relaxed as best she could and drove to Abby Ward.

  When she walked in the building, chaos surrounded the premises. Commissioner Jarrett met her at the door and immediately led her through the throngs of rigid officers, eyes focused on the creator of this mayhem. Keirah’s eyes widened at the sight; Noir was seething, and when his eyes weren’t twitching due to his obvious lack of sleep, they were looking wildly around the room, suspicious. His right hand held a small ballpoint pen at his hostage’s jugular, his body carefully positioned so if any officers were stupid enough to fire at him, the bullets would hit their colleague. When his eyes finally found Keirah, he smirked.

  “Well-ah, hello princess,” he said, and then smacked his chapped lips with his tongue. “I’m, uh, not sure if the good commissionerrr informed you how tired I am.” Keirah remained silent, but she maintained eye contact with him. “Ya see, sometimes even the silence can be hum … deafening, which is why I need you to help me sleep.”

  Wait, what?

  “Here I am,” she told him, hoping her voice was stronger than she felt. “What do you need me to do to help you?” She needed to sound sincere rather than scared. If she messed up, caused him to teeter toward anger, she knew that Noir would not hesitate to stab the officer.

  Noir’s tongue came out and slowly ran along his bottom lip as his eyes twitched. “I need-ah,” he said as though it were quite obvious, “you to sleep with me.”

  Keirah’s eyes immediately snapped up to Commissioner Jarrett, who sighed dejectedly as he ran his fingers through his light brown hair.

  “No no no no no, my pet,” Noir said, commandeering Keirah’s attention once again. “No. This is about you and me right no-ooo-ow.” His eyes narrowed into hers, indicating that he meant business. “I need sleep. I’m sure this officer would like to get home to his family. Now, to make sure that none of these Johnny Heroes don’t take a shot at me if I release him, I am going to use you as a, uh, human shield. I know what you’re thinking. You’re tiny and I’m, well, uh, not, but see, I’m strong and can easily pick you up so your small body will block all of my vital organs.”

  “So you and me,” Keirah said, raising a skeptical brow. “Sleeping and that’s it. You won’t try anything?”

  At Keirah’s question, Noir started cackling, tossing his head while keeping a firm grip on the officer and the pen. “Try something?” he asked through chuckles. “Do you think I could try something due to my lack of sleep? Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not even my type-ah.” His demeanor changed, his brows pushing together so they made a ‘v.’ “Now, do we have a deal? As you can see, the less sleep I get, the crankier I become. Tick … tick … tick.”

  There were those ticks again.

  Keirah swallowed. She didn’t want to do this. There was no way she would do this. But the look on the face of the police officer caused guilt to pool in her stomach and rest just below her navel. It was heavy, and seemed to drag her down. How could she not do it, when it would save someone’s life? She didn’t have a choice, she realized. She clenched her jaw, and felt a burst of frustration shoot out of her – frustration at the psychopath, at the commissioner, even at the officer. She was now forced to risk her life in order to save his. There was no choice but to accept.

  “Okay,” Keirah said. “I agree.” She started to walk over to the madman, but Commissioner Jarrett stopped her by wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

  “I don’t know about this, Ms. Shepherd,” he said, glancing at the increasingly impatient Noir.

  “Listen, he just wants to sleep,” Keirah said. “He’s not going to kill me. He doesn’t kill things that fascinate him until he gets bored. Why do you think he hasn’t killed the Black Wing?” She let her question sink in before continuing. “Put a couple of guards at the door so if he does try anything, they can hear me scream. But I highly doubt anything will happen to me.”

  “We can handcuff him,” Jarrett said, blue eyes filled with worry.

  “That won’t help him sleep,” she pointed out. “It’s just one night.” She wondered if she’d ever believe her words.

  “What if he asks for this again?” Jarrett asked, itching the stubble on his chin. “What then?”

  “We’ll see how tonight goes.” What else could she say? She took a breath and released it, glancing at Noir before focusing once again on the commissioner. “I’m going to go over there so he can release that officer, and then we can start to put this behind us.” She perked her brow before turning toward her destination.

  “I hope you’re right,” Jarrett told her in a soft voice as he released her wrist. “I hope you’re right.”

  Keirah eased herself in front of the criminal. He grinned in triumph, and after casting a dark look at the surrounding officers, released his hostage and grabbed Keirah’s wrist, spinning her around so her back crashed into his surprisingly sturdy chest. Before she could process what was happening, Keirah felt Noir’s hands securely grip her waist and lift her up with ease so that, as promised, she was covering his vital organs. However, there didn’t seem to be a need for the precaution since the surrounding officers only watched as he carried her off, back to his cell. Commissioner Jarrett followed and once they were both tucked inside, shut the door, locked it, and immediately double-checked it to make sure it was locked.

  “I hope you’re right,” he murmured once again before leaving.

  When the two were alone, Keirah glanced around. She knew what isolation was, she’d seen these cells on television before, but when Jarrett said isolation, he meant it. There was only a bed and a toilet attached to the wall. Despite the darkness, Keirah could see the white of the bed. How, exactly, were they both going to fit on that thing?

  “Looks like we’re going to be clo-ooo-ose, princess,” he murmured in her ear, his hot breath taking over a portion of her skin. She gulped, but not because she was afraid.

  Keirah slipped off her flats underneath the bed and glanced up at him.

&nb
sp; “I must apologize for the lack of blankets,” Noir said, resting his chin on her shoulder. If he had any personal space issues with her before, they had disappeared. He still hadn’t released his hold on her waist, even after putting her down. “Don’t be shy, my pet. Go on. I’m getting aw-fully sleepy.”

  Keirah nodded once before she stepped forward and crawled onto the bed. She positioned herself so her back faced him and tensed as she felt him slide in behind her, casually throwing his arm around her waist again, and tucked his chin in the crevice of her neck. She felt her body warm at his closeness; although, she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Since she had no pillow, Noir slid his arm underneath her so she could rest her head on his forearm. It surprised her, feeling her body relax and her eyes start to droop. It was odd, being at ease with a psychotic murderer to the point of being able to fall asleep with him, but it wasn’t her fault that he was so incredibly comfortable. Already she could feel his breathing even out; he had finally fallen asleep. Not long after, she joined him.

  A few hours later, Keirah was woken by a voice tickling her ear. He wasn’t saying anything in particular, just mumbling, but his grip on her had tightened to near desperation. He must be having a nightmare. She wondered how often he suffered through them. She wondered if that was why he chose to remain awake for as long as possible. She wondered if that was why he asked for her tonight—maybe she could save him. Pity swelled inside of her chest and she couldn’t push it away. This time, she didn’t want to. She had to do something soon because his bare hands were gripping her waist so tightly she knew his fingerprints would be left on her skin. His mumblings grew louder and more hopeless, and Keirah searched her mind for some kind of solution.

  An idea sprung forth, and after hesitating, she placed her hand over his. It was funny how much bigger his hand was when compared to hers, but his skin was oddly warm and somewhat comforting. For whatever reason and beyond all logic, she felt safe.

  Her touch caused everything in Noir to tense. His body froze and his mumbles went silent. Keirah wasn’t sure if she should pull away or not. She could still hear him breathing behind her … Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe she could chance a quick glance over her shoulder just to make sure he was all right. She swallowed, her heart beat increasing substantially, although she was unsure as to why. He was sleeping, and if he wasn’t he couldn’t harm her, not with two guards just outside the door. Breathing in deeply through her nose, she attempted to ease her heart back down to its normal pace, and then, without releasing her gentle grip on his hand, craned her neck so she could look over her shoulder at him.

  Her eyes came in contact with his hazel orbs. Keirah wasn’t afraid and she wasn’t sure why. His eyes weren’t guarded now, nor were they harsh or angry; they were simply observing her. She felt like she was under a microscope when he looked at her. She noticed how colorful his eyes were when he wasn’t mad. They were almost beautiful, really. Without warning, Noir loosened his hold on her, disappointing her. He was her only source of warmth and he had taken it away. However, she felt him turn her body so she was resting flat on her back, her eyes still locked with his. They remained this way for a long period of time, neither of them daring to look away until he leaned toward her. Slipping his hand from her, he reached up and traced Keirah’s cheekbone downwards until he reached her bottom lip. Before she realized what was happening, Noir’s lips captured hers.

  The kiss was demanding and rough, his tongue running over her bottom lip, ordering her to open up to him. At first, she refused him, trying to break free from his rigid grasp he had on her, but he would not relent nor would he release her lips. Slowly, she felt herself give into him; she had not been kissed this passionately in a long time. The slightest bit of pressure he received from her caused him to smirk through the kiss, and the moment a sliver of opportunity was granted, he took advantage of it immediately. His tongue eased into her mouth, wanting to explore every inch of her, as much as he possibly could, tasting her, feeling her, figuring her out. Keirah felt herself open her mouth more to meet his demand, and turned so now she was facing him. Her hands were flat on his chest, and through the thin orange material of his jumpsuit, she felt the firm muscle underneath. She was starting to lose herself and at that moment, she did not care.

  Before he pulled away for air, Noir bit down on Keirah’s bottom lip. She was left gasping for breath while he looked unperturbed. She watched him flick his tongue over his lips as though he wanted to taste her remains before slipping it back into his mouth and smirking.

  Keirah was ashamed of herself. How could she let this sociopath take advantage of her, use her for his own pleasure? She turned around again, trying to put space between the two, damning the cold. She deserved to be cold for the rest of the night. Her breath had returned to her, but now shivers consumed her and she felt tears gather in her eyes.

  Noir gently placed a hand underneath her chin and forced her to look at him. He noticed the tears, and as she blinked, one slipped down her cheek. He watched it roll down her cheek until it gathered at the base of her chin before returning his eyes into hers. She didn’t look away.

  “Crying is a weakness,” he stated. He wasn’t being condescending. She said nothing so he released her chin from his hold only to place a hand on her waist. The smirk appeared on his face as he chided, “No need to be ashamed, my love!” The way he taunted her caused her insides to rip apart with guilt. “Oh, what’s the expression? If it makesss you happy, it can’t be hum … that bad.”

  “It did not make me happy,” Keirah said through gritted teeth.

  “I beg to differ,” he said. “Now stop crying. I don’t want you to get my arm wet.” He tightened his grip on her, and she had no choice but to place her head down on his forearm once more.

  Blinking back tears, her mind kept chanting the night was almost over. She would be released soon and she would refuse to participate in any more sessions with him in order to save what was left of her sanity.

  “Would you like to hear something ironic?” he asked in a jovial tone. She wanted to retort that he needed his beauty sleep, but didn’t trust her voice to come out as confident as she wanted it to be. “The greatest weapon I have ever used is, uh, well, fear. Ya see, fear is only really in your mind, and yet, time and time ah-gain, it takes us over. You, now you, my dear, I may never figure it out, which is, well, it’s a good thing for you because I’m not going to kill you. It’s a good thing for me, because, well, I get a new plaything. That’s you, by the way. You should probably know that hum … I know what you’re afraid of which may not be so good for you. You think you’re afraid of me, but in truth, you’re afraid of yourself. When I, uh, kissed you, you liked it. And who wouldn’t? I’m a pretty damn good kisser. Just ask any of the whores in the Zone. You, you’re not a whore, but you, you still enjoyed my kiss. And because of that, you will be mine-ah for the rest of your days.”

  Noir stopped so his words could fully sink in. Keirah hoped her face gave nothing away because she was having difficulty wrapping her mind around what he said. Her eyes dropped to half-mast and she tried to keep her lips pressed together in order to conceal a yawn.

  “Go to sleep, my love,” he told her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

  Keirah felt her eyes get weak with exhaustion, and as she shut them, a sense of peace washed over her despite her current position.

  “Tomorrow is a very big day,” he continued. “Ya see, tomorrow is the day I escape from this hum … wretched holding cell. Tomorrow is the day I’m, uh, well taking you with me.”

  She should have been more alarmed by his statement, but Keirah was too close to the brink of sleep to be brought back by mere words.

  12

  Reese found out nothing new about Henry other than the fact that he had a really long name and had an inexplicable issue with people addressing him by it. There had to be more to this guy, especially since no one knew anything about him. Secretaries and arrogant jocks were afraid of him and he
had eyes that she knew—she knew!—but she couldn’t figure out from where. As she changed into her baggy soccer shorts and practice shirt, her mind scrambled to try and figure out what she should do with her incessant curiosity. It was only when she was lacing up her cleats and Piper came over to change did she finally get some sort of solution.

  “So are we still on for today?” Piper asked in her usual perky voice. “I know it’s raining and all but knowing you, I doubt that would stop you.”

  “Actually,” Reese said, absent-mindedly tightening her ponytail, “yes, but maybe we could tweak our plans just a bit?” She winced, giving her friend big, wide eyes.

  “Oh no,” Piper said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I thought we were going to get mani-pedis and then some frozen yogurt and go shopping at the Spectrum.”

  “We are,” Reese assured her friend. “We are. I was hoping, though, we could take a detour …” She let her voice trail off, her eyes shifting left, right as she leaned toward Piper so no one would overhear her. “Don’t get all weird on me, but Henry leaves school around the same time, and I was hoping—”

  “Oh my God,” Piper said, cutting her off. “You want to stalk him.”

  “Shhh!” Reese hissed, wrinkling her nose. “What? No! Stalk? That’s such a harsh word. And I am not a stalker. We’re going to conduct an investigation.”

  “Whatever gets you to sleep at night,” Piper said, rolling her eyes.

  “Are you in?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  A brilliant smile eclipsed Reese’s face, and she could barely contain her excitement as she all but barreled into her friend for a tight hug.

  Before practice officially began, players were supposed to be juggling their soccer ball, using every body part they could think of, save for their arms and hands, to keep it from touching the ground. Even in the rain, the Onyx soccer team was expected to train. Luckily it was only drizzling or else Reese would have thrown on a sweater. She had never been good at juggling; she wasn’t very coordinated and she had no sense of grace, but she tried. That had to count for something.