Awaken: Book 1 of the Dark Paradise Trilogy

by Isadora Brown

  Reese’s eyes glanced down at the headline: Onyx’s New Rosebud?

  “I don’t get it,” she murmured, looking up at him with questions in her grey eyes.

  “He’s an Excom,” he explained.

  Reese furrowed her brow. “Why is he here then?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ollo said. “That’s the problem.”

  25

  By the time Andie woke up the next day, it was just after three o’clock in the afternoon, a new record for her. She must have been more exhausted than she thought. After forcing herself out of bed, she grabbed her purse and checked her cell phone: five missed calls from both Reese and Carey as well as a slew of text messages from them asking how she was and if she was all right. Nothing from Keirah. Nothing from her mother. She decided to shoot a quick text to both Carey and Reese telling them she was fine and then turned off her phone. She didn’t want to explain anything to anybody at the moment.

  Her stomach insisted on sustenance, and she walked out of the room and down the hall. Though she was tempted to explore the manor, her need for food outweighed her curiosity, and it wasn’t long before she found herself in the kitchen that was three times the size of hers. Beverly was already there, her body wrapped in a silk white robe and her brown hair clipped up. She seemed to be reading and cooking at the same time. When she noticed Andie, she gestured to one of the five stools sitting underneath a bar that divided the kitchen and dining room.

  “Have a seat,” she said, her eyes returning to the sizzling bacon she was frying on the stove. Andie’s lips twitched and her mouth started salivating as she took a seat. “I’m almost finished with the bacon and have some scrambled eggs waiting. How does that sound?”

  “Delicious,” Andie replied. Her eyes dropped to the white bar and she was surprised to see an ocean of newspapers, tabloids, and magazines. They were all dated with today’s date.

  “Jack likes to keep up with everything,” Beverly explained. She set down her own paper in order to grab a porcelain plate from a mahogany cabinet. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very much,” Andie said, picking her eyes up from a local headline that addressed the Black Wing’s absence last night. “I can’t thank you enough for your generous hospitality.”

  A knowing smile touched the older woman’s face. “It was all Jack,” she said as she handed Andie a plate of food and utensils. “Drink?”

  “Oh.” Andie felt herself blush at being waited on. “Coffee, please.” Her eyes dropped to the paper. “Where is Jack?” She grabbed the Onyx Register with her free hand as she took a bite of her eggs, bypassing the Onyx Times.

  “It would seem he’s still sleeping,” Beverly replied.

  Andie barely heard her, her eyes too focused on the paper. The journalist of the article splattered on the front page pointed out that a young woman was stolen by Noir at Jack Phillip’s Halloween party, seemingly right under everyone’s nose, and, once again, the Black Wing hadn’t rescued her yet. An unnamed source said this was because the young woman in question was confirmed to be the same hostage he used while escaping custody earlier this month. Therefore, it was likely the two were in cahoots because, if not, where was the Black Wing?

  Andie hadn’t realized she was making a face until Beverly asked if there was something wrong with the food.

  “Oh no!” she exclaimed, her face turning red. “It’s great! It’s just … this article is ridiculous.” Beverly perked her brow, silently asking her for an explanation. “Well, the woman everyone’s talking about, the one Noir kidnapped? She’s my sister. I guess people are speculating that because the Black Wing didn’t save her, she’s somehow working with Noir, which she’s not. Obviously.”

  “It sounds as though you’re not too fond of the Black Wing,” Beverly commented.

  “It’s not that,” Andie said after swallowing a bite of bacon. “Okay, maybe it is that. I just hate that this guy basically gets to play god of our city. He gets to decide who to save and who not to save, and the people that don’t get saved are instantly spurned by the media as having something wrong with them which then justifies the Black Wing’s decision not to save them in the first place.”

  “From what we know,” Beverly said, her voice delicate as she turned off the stove, “the Black Wing is still a man. He can’t know every little thing that happens to this city. He does what he thinks is best for the greater good of Onyx.”

  “That’s my problem,” Andie said, running her fingers through her short, messy hair.

  “A good deed never goes unpunished, hmm?” a masculine voice laced with sleep drawled from behind her.

  Andie craned her head to clench her teeth together in order to keep her mouth from dropping open. Jack looked entirely disheveled and nothing short of beautiful. His chestnut brown hair fell into his face and he was wearing nothing more than teal and purple pajama pants and a white wife beater that revealed his defined collar bone, his broad shoulders, his muscled torso, and those arms. She was positive that if he flexed, his bicep would be as big as her face. She knew she was staring, but couldn’t stop. Those arms. Immediately they were her new favorite physical trait of his and she wanted nothing more than to squeeze them and—

  “What are you looking at?”

  His question, asked with a smirk on his face, caused Andie to rip her eyes away from his arms and force them to his face.

  “Your pants are ridiculous,” she managed to get out.

  His smirk only deepened like he knew she was lying. “They’re the colors of my favorite hockey team,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “About the good deeds?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “We’ll go with that.”

  Andie clenched her jaw. It was easier to focus on the conversation rather than Jack’s arms when he was being his usual droll self.

  “The Black Wing is obviously doing something good for Onyx, more than the police do,” he went on, taking a seat at the bar next to her.

  “Yeah, but who does this guy think he is, deciding what’s good and what’s not for Onyx?” Andie asked. “He only came around a year ago. And judging by his ridiculous outfit, he’s young. Is he a citizen? Some guy who thinks he’s a superhero? Why does he get to decide what’s good, especially since he’s breaking the law while doing so?”

  “So saving the greatest number of people is wrong?” Jack asked, raising a skeptical brow.

  Andie shook her head. “It’s too simple,” she said. “If you start grouping people together, they lose their individuality. Every single person, bad or good, old or young, has the right to life. Somehow, people look at the Black Wing as this symbol of good, which then means that people he doesn’t choose to save are less than the group he does save. Both groups are good, yes, but his choice makes one better than the other, and when you start putting a value on someone’s life, you’re playing God. I just think that’s wrong. I think it’s too much power for one person. Who is he to think he has the right to make that decision?” It had gotten quiet and Jack was staring at her with such intensity that his eyes shone emerald. “What?”

  Before Andie realized it, Jack raised his hand so his cool fingertips brushed the left side of her face. “You have a bruise,” he stated, his voice low.

  She shivered and closed her eyes, a reaction completely beyond her control. The feel of his surprisingly rough skin and just as surprisingly gentle touch calmed her to the point where she felt safe with him. Once that crossed her mind, she snapped her head away from him and said quickly, “It’s no big deal. My mom—” She stopped when she saw him frown, and he pushed his brow up so it rested over his eyes. “Anyway, I think we should lay down some ground rules.” Jack remained silent but quirked a brow, indicating his interest in what she had to say. “Number one, I think you should charge me rent.” She held up a hand to stop him from speaking, knowing that he would. “Take it out of my check, if you have to. It would really make me feel
better.” When he nodded, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

  “I have one,” he said in a soft-spoken voice. His eyes dropped all amusement. “No late-night visitors.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I’m not easy,” she snapped.

  “I know that,” he replied. He sounded like he was sorry, like he wanted to make amends. “I’m not saying I don’t trust your judgment, but I don’t want any random guy here.”

  “I wouldn’t bring a random guy here, Jack,” Andie said. She was gritting her teeth now, trying to contain her patience. She was grateful he was allowing her to stay here for however long she needed to, but did he really think she would be bringing different guys to his house every night? “I’m not one of your floozies.”

  The minute the words were out of her mouth, she winced. Definitely not the right thing to say.

  “And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You know exactly what it means,” she returned, defensive. “Everyone knows that the girls you date—if you even call it that—are only seeking publicity or want to get in your pants, or both.”

  “Well, then I think it’s safe to say I can pick out an easy girl when I see one,” Jack said.

  Andie’s entire face fell. The look of pain lingered only a moment before it disappeared, gone forever. Without warning, she slapped him across the face and got off of the barstool. She didn’t run to her temporary room, but every muscle in her body was tense as she walked there. Once she was safely inside, she shut the door behind her and let the tears fall.

  She had to get out of this house.

  With that thought, she quickly went through the dresser, throwing on a pair of jeans— possibly an old pair of Beverly’s—a long sleeved shirt she was certain was Jack’s, and slipped on her gladiator-styled flip flops she had worn to his party last night. She pulled her hair up in a loose ponytail and walked out of her room, hoping she wouldn’t run into him.

  When she was outside, she had no idea what to do. She remembered she had no car which meant she was stuck.

  Brilliant plan, Andie, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. At least you’re outside the stupid house. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Mansion is more like it.

  Ultimately, Andie decided to explore the grounds while her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Jack. The fact that he even alluded to her being easy caused a sense of misery to overtake her. Immediately, she mentally scolded herself for such thoughts, shaking her head as she did so. Andie hated that she cared what the arrogant playboy thought about her, but she did. She wasn’t easy—Pat was a jerk of an ex-boyfriend and had been her first and only. Not that it was any of his business.

  Jack’s grounds were extraordinary. The green lawn was cut so that every blade was in place. There was a garden tucked away to the east side of the manor with a beautiful array of flowers. Pinks, blues, yellows, reds, whites, purples and greens added color to the grass. There was also a vegetable garden that outlined the border of the grounds filled with ripe tomatoes, lettuce and carrots. There was a bountiful collection of trees throughout, providing pockets of shade during the hot summer months. Some of them tempted Andie to climb them. Finally, there was a three layered fountain placed in the west side where a group of various birds were bathing and drinking.

  To be a bird, Andie mused to herself with a small smile. I would fly everywhere.

  She walked over to the fountain, making sure she didn’t scare away the birds. She found it odd that there were no coins at the bottom of the fountain. But then again, billionaires don’t really need to wish for much, do they? She was surprised to find that Jack didn’t own a swimming pool, and she wondered why when he could definitely afford one.

  Andie reached into her pocket and grinned when she found a rusted penny. She glanced at the coin and without hesitation, wished for the safety of her sister. With that, she tossed the penny so it landed in the third level of the fountain with a loud kerplunk.

  “What’d you wish for?”

  Before she could stop herself, her brow furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. However, just as quickly as her defensive posture came, it disappeared. She didn’t want to fight with Jack. She didn’t want things between them to be bad. It was odd because she usually didn’t care about trying to patch things up between herself and someone else, especially if the tension wasn’t her fault. Now, though, maybe she had snapped at him too soon and maybe he was apologizing the only way he could.

  “I’m not allowed to say,” she said, turning so she faced him. A small smile touched her lips. “Or else it won’t come true.”

  “Listen,” he said, sliding his hands in the pockets of his pajama bottoms. He still hadn’t changed, and her clothes didn’t fit. They both looked ridiculous. “About what happened. I know you’re not easy, and I’m sorry that I said you were in so many words.”

  “I know,” Andie said, nodding once. “And I know you don’t date all floozies.”

  “No, that’s true,” Jack said, a subtle smile appearing on her lips. “You didn’t exactly have to word it the way you did, but it’s true. It’s just … easy, I guess.” He chuckled at this, shaking his head.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she told him.

  “I want to,” he replied, locking eyes with her. “Floozies, as you so elegantly call them, are easy to get. They’re easy to date and they’re easy to sleep with. The class I come from expects me to date these women because it adds to my reputation. I’m … well, I guess I’m underestimated and I like that. People assume I’m just this wealthy guy who doesn’t care about anything except spending exuberant amounts of money on extravagant needless things and sleeping with beautiful women. Everyone believes that I can get any girl I want, but it’s not true.” He looked at her pointedly, and there was something in his gaze that caused Andie to think that maybe there was more to his words than what he was saying. She just couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “You keep saying that,” Andie said with a sigh, “yet you continue to act like it is. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I’m just wondering at what point does the line blur and the person you’re pretending to be and the person you are is one and the same? What if you lose yourself, Jack? What if you can’t remember who you are?”

  “That won’t happen, Andie,” he said. Despite the warm thermal she was wearing, her body burst into goose bumps. “I know who I am. And you, you know who I am. If I fall—”

  “I’ll let you borrow my wings,” she finished, a smile eclipsing her features. “And once I do remind you of who you are, I will kick your ass.” This caused Jack to laugh once again. “Now, if you’re not doing anything, I really need to pick up some clothes, my school stuff, and my car.”

  26

  Keirah woke up the next morning feeling cold. She blinked a few times, nearly forgetting where she was. If anyone told her last week that she’d be living in the Zone with Onyx’s most notorious villain without attempting to escape or contacting the police, she would have laughed out loud. Now, however, things had changed. While it wasn’t often, she began to see flashes of humanity under Noir’s thick skin. She began to feel not sympathy for him, but a fondness, and though she tried to put that fire out, she was afraid that she was past the point of no return. She was so far gone and a growing part of her didn’t want to be saved.

  It was then that Keirah realized Noir was not holding her as he had been throughout the night. She pursed her lips and swung her legs over the side of the bed before indulging in a long stretch as she stood. Maybe he was in the living room or somewhere else in the apartment. As she walked out the door, she spotted the piano and paused. She wanted him to play for her again.

  Once she exited the bedroom, her eyes began to seek out the only familiar face she knew.

  And there he was.

  Noir was standing in what appeared to be a tiny dining room tucked in a sm
all pocket of the kitchen behind the table reading today’s newspaper. His scar looked full, as though it had gotten an infection sometime in the past and had healed poorly. Instinctively, her hand crawled up to cover her own scar, over the material of Noir’s shirt. It was then that he spotted her. While he still held the newspaper up, his eyes focused only on hers. She didn’t know how long he looked at her, but something inside of her felt somewhat flattered at his obvious attention. Nobody had ever looked at her the way he looked at her in her entire life.

  “Well, uh, good morning, sunshine,” he cooed, folding the paper shut and placing it on the table. “How was your sleep?”

  “Deep,” she murmured.

  It was still somewhat difficult for her to wrap her mind around something as simple as conversing with a known murderer, so she tried not to speak too much. She walked over to the dining table, a bit hesitant, but confident nonetheless. Up close, she could see Noir was now fully decked out in his uniform, save for the fedora.

  “And yours?” she asked as an afterthought, taking a seat across from his standing form.

  Noir looked at her once again before leaning toward her, his palms placed firmly on the side of the table. “Quite well, my dear,” he told her. “Thank you.”

  Keirah felt her throat swallow on its own accord and she nodded a couple of times. Her eyes traveled to the paper Noir just discarded. The headline on the front page of the Onyx Times read Onyx’s New Rosebud? She furrowed her brow at the picture that accompanied it; a tall man with more muscle than a football player was standing there, with jet-black eyes, a sadistic smile, and a mask over his face. Keirah nibbled her bottom lip without realizing it.

  “I, ah, well, I see you’ve noticed Onyx’s new visitor,” Noir said. When Keirah looked up at him, she could see his hazel eyes hardening and wondered if he knew this man personally. “He seems to want to, well, take over the town, really. People fear him because ummm … because of his size, because of his height. Fear is invoked immediately. But what the people of this city don’t understand is he does not have the heart of a hum … true criminal. He wants the usual garb-ah. Revenge. Money. Women. Fame.”