Awaken: Book 1 in The Dark Paradise Chronicles

by Isadora Brown

  “Andie?” he asked. His voice was clear, like church bells on Sunday morning. “You never called. I’ve been—” He cut himself off, and then, “Are you okay?”

  “I, uh …” She glanced at the empty hallway of her apartment complex and suddenly felt lonely. She knew she was being selfish, since Keirah was gone again and could be in fatal danger, but right at that moment, Andie wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms and told sincerely that everything would be all right. “I just …” The tears sprang into her eyes but they weren’t falling. Not yet. “Um, my mom kicked me out, and I don’t, I’m not sure what to do.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Before Andie could dissuade him from actually doing anything and remind him that he had never been to her house before and mentioning it might it might be tricky to find since it was three o’clock in the morning, he hung up. Frowning, she tried to call him back, but it went straight to voicemail. She let out a groan and decided to head to the parking lot so he’d be able to see her better. More than that, she didn’t want him anywhere near her mother. She wasn’t sure how either would react to the other and didn’t want to experiment tonight.

  Nearly ten minutes later, a black Bentley pulled up, and after a minute, Jack parked the car and got out. He didn’t seem perturbed by the rain in the slightest, but before he could go to her, she emerged from the canopy that blocked her from the rain and slid into the passenger seat of the car. She watched as Jack’s lips quirked up into a grin, a puzzled look on his face as he followed suit. He started up the car, but only to turn on the heater, and faced her.

  “What happened?” he asked her. “Are you all right?”

  “My mom kicked me out,” she stated. It still hadn’t hit her that she didn’t have a home anymore. She didn’t have anything anymore. “My mom kicked me out.”

  “Hey.” He reached out and cupped her face with his hands in order to break her out of her daze. She latched onto his unwavering jade green eyes like they were a light in a dark tunnel. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”

  She heard the words. She reveled in how genuine they were.

  “I just …” She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath before reopening them. “I don’t know what to do. I always know what to do.” Jack smirked and released her cheek in order to brush loose, damp tendrils away from her face. Andie chose not to think about the fact that she naturally leaned into his touch and decided to home in on his smile. “What? Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Actually, yes, I do have an idea,” he said. “You’ll stay with me until we figure this out.” He abruptly turned back to his steering wheel and proceeded to put the car in gear. “I know you’ve opened your mouth to respond, but do yourself a favor and just breathe, okay? I know you want to argue, but don’t. We can discuss everything tomorrow morning if you want, but let’s get you back to the house and into some warm clothes, and then you need to sleep.”

  Jack Phillip liked to break the law, at least in terms of the speed limit. They were back at his home in less than ten minutes; it would normally take a half an hour if he actually went the proper speed. Because it was dark, Andie couldn’t make out the majority of the manor, but she promised herself she’d go exploring tomorrow, since the only other time she had been here she was waitressing and didn’t have time to take it all in.

  Jack drove up the driveway and flashed his lights against the entrance. She was surprised to find the doors to his house open, with an older woman wearing a long white robe leaning against the doorway as though she expected them. He turned off the car, and before Andie could comprehend what he was doing, he was at her door, opening it for her.

  “I’m going to park the car in the garage around back,” he told her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Then I have a meeting with Hong Kong that will probably take a while. My aunt, Beverly, will get you some fresh clothes and take you to the room you’ll be sleeping in; it has an attached bathroom and shower. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Andie nodded and Jack dropped his hands, turning to head back into the car. “Jack,” she called before he got in. He looked at her, pushing his brow up. She suddenly felt shy, but she forced herself to keep her eyes on his. “Thank you.”

  He nodded his head, and as Andie walked to the entrance of his house, she heard him drive away. Beverly offered Andie a warm smile, murmuring something along the lines of how cold she must be and how she should take a long shower.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Beverly said as she led Andie up the grand staircase.

  “I’m not here to sleep with your nephew.” The minute Andie said the words, she forgot about being cold because her face caught on fire.

  Beverly hooted with laughter, stopping in the middle of the staircase to grab the banister to ensure she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall. Andie wasn’t sure if she should continue to feel mortified or if she should join in. Jack’s reputation with the ladies was no secret. She was sure Beverly saw a slew of beautiful but nameless faces come in and out of the manor at all hours and she wanted to make it clear to this woman that she was not one of those girls.

  “Of course not,” Beverly said. She started up the stairs again. “Though I must say—Andie, isn’t it?—I’m quite surprised you actually agreed to this. I thought you weren’t a big fan of his.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Beverly turned left. If Andie hadn’t been so cold, she’d probably slow down so she could look around.

  “Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I had another option,” Andie muttered. Beverly chuckled. “Not that I’m not grateful, of course. I am. But I feel uncomfortable being here. Not with Jack, just in his house.” Andie stopped talking for a moment in order to collect her thoughts. She knew what she wanted to say, but it was coming out all wrong. “Sorry. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m surprised he suggested this.” She paused, frowning. “Actually, ordered is more like it.”

  Beverly started laughing again, but this time, Andie felt a smile start to light up her face. “It seems rather contradictory of Jack,” she explained, “but he’s not one for rejection, so he’d rather order someone to do it. If they don’t follow his orders, they’re just being rebellious, not rejecting him.”

  “For a guy who’s known for his arrogance, he sure does have a bunch of insecurities,” Andie remarked as they stopped in front of a door left cracked open. “I just don’t get why, though. I mean, he’s attractive enough, he has a reputable business, a name known all over the world, and he’s only twenty-one years old. I get the whole having fun thing, but doesn’t it ever get lonely? Why does a twenty-one-year-old need a house this big anyway?” A light blush touched her face. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “It’s my opinion that Jack isn’t as playful as his reputation might lead you to believe,” Beverly said, a knowing twinkle in her jade green eyes. “It’s just a front. Because he has all the things you mentioned, he has to be wary of …”

  “Gold diggers and hussies?” Andie finished. She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Jack’s a pretty smart guy. He should be able to sniff those out, especially since their stench is so obvious.” She chuckled at her joke. “He could probably get any woman he wanted. Of course, he’d have to tweak that persona of his, but other than that …”

  “Despite popular belief, Jack can’t get any woman he desires,” Beverly teased. She pushed the door open and let Andie walk into the room before she followed. “Here’s your room. The bathroom is just through the door,” she pointed to a door in the corner of the room. “My room is three doors down, while Jack’s is across the hall. He’s out most of the weekend and tends to get cranky when he doesn’t get his beauty sleep. Let me get you some of Jack's extra clothes and after that you can take a shower and get warm, hmm?”

  “Thank you,” Andie said with a smile.

  In minutes, Andie had a simple grey t-shirt and old plaid pajama pants that Jack didn’t wear anymore waiting for
her to change into after her hot shower. When she finished, she dried herself off and wrapped a towel around her frame, letting herself relax in the steam. The tension in her body softened and for a moment, she was at peace. There was nothing she could do for Keirah right now. She needed sleep and a more permanent residence—she’d call Carey in the morning after breakfast. Once all of that was taken care of, she could start to think about how to help her sister.

  She slipped on the clothes after hanging up her towel, the soft material caressing her skin, her damp hair leaving little droplets on her shoulders. She emerged from the bathroom and crawled under the covers that made up the California king bed. In all honesty, Andie didn’t think she’d have an easy time falling asleep. So much had happened tonight she was certain her mind would be too noisy to let her drift away. By some miracle, however, the minute Andie’s head hit the Egyptian cotton pillow, she was out.

  23

  Keirah

  The Zone was about twenty-five minutes south of the city. It still technically counted as part of Onyx, but it wasn’t a place people sought out. Trash littered the street despite the many attempts to clean up the area. A portion of the population was homeless, sleeping on the cold streets and wearing ratty, thin material to keep them warm from the autumn nights. There were abandoned buildings in the Zone where many of the homeless slept, always leaving sometime in the morning if the police came in and kicked them out. The people of the Zone were close-knit and usually looked out for each other. Most of them were criminals who stayed here because it was cheap and it wasn’t often that the police came through here. This was the part of the city the Black Wing frequented most, but even with his nearly-guaranteed presence, crime continued. As such, it wasn’t safe for outsiders—the population of Onyx outside the Zone. Children were kidnapped, women were raped, and men were robbed and sometimes murdered.

  Keirah looked into the dark night warily, her brows pushed together as she saw the sleeping homeless in the rain and the crimes taking place. No one attempted to hide the fact that they were breaking the law. A shiver of fear ran down her spine and she shuddered, shaking her head, her eyes now focused on the driver’s seat.

  A chuckle resonated beside her and she glanced up at the person sitting next to her. How ironic, she mused. I’m more afraid of where I am than who I am with. The crinkles around his eyes actually added to his attractiveness instead of detracting from it. Keirah always found rugged men much more appealing than men with baby-faces. They looked … boyish, not masculine. Not like him.

  “Are ya … well, are ya scared, princess?” Noir asked. Thanks to the way he was wearing his fedora, shadows covered the majority of his face, causing him to look more intimidating than usual. Keirah ignored his question and swallowed, but as usual, he didn’t need a response to continue whatever he wanted to say. “No need to worry, my love. I’m here!” With that, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her toward him, disregarding the fact that she was still buckled up.

  “You wanna know what’s funny?” he continued, ignoring Keirah’s grunts of discomfort and coiling his long, gloved fingers around her shoulder, holding her tight. “Ya see, I have my-ah, humble abode in the Zone because people … well, they expect me to be here! The Zone is home to villains, vigilantes, criminals, whatever you wanna call ‘em, and as such, I belong here. It’s so beautiful, my pet! However, the Zone is home to the lowest of the low. I am not expected here because I am, hum … the best of the best. Yet here … we … are.” He began to cackle.

  “So what you’re saying is that because people label you as a criminal, you’re expected to reside in the Zone,” Keirah began slowly, trying to untangle the labyrinth of Noir’s latest riddle. “However, because you’re intelligent and dress nicely, they wouldn’t expect you to be in the slums but you are …?”

  “Precisely-ah, my dear!” he exclaimed gleefully and then patted her hair. “I always knew you were so smart. Ya see, the most complicated riddle is really the most simple to, hum … solve.”

  The drive lasted only another five minutes before the car pulled in front of what looked like a shabby, abandoned building shielded by other apartment complexes and buildings. The car, while in park, was still running. Noir opened the door and hopped out before turning around and looking at Keirah with a lazy, expectant expression. The cold of the night suddenly overwhelmed her and she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted over the leather seats before getting out of the car. Her feet hit damp asphalt and the sprinkles that fell from the sky caused her to shriek and grab Noir’s hand almost subconsciously. He cackled, shutting the door behind her. His laughter pierced the silent night.

  “Are you, ah, cold, my dear?” he asked. “Well, uh, I can fix that.” Before Keirah even realized what was going on, he swept her up in his arms, laughing as he did so. Keirah, still incredibly cold, pushed her body into his, hoping to leech off his body heat.

  Without knocking, Noir burst through the wooden door. “I’m ho-ooo-ome!” he sing-songed, slamming the door behind him with his foot. He grinned at his joke and then looked at the three occupants who were staring at him. “Well-ah, look what the cat dragged in.”

  “Boss, we didn’t know you was gonna get your own girl,” the scrawny one said. He looked intimidated by Noir’s presence, something that amused Noir. He was short—Keirah would guess five foot six—and constantly rubbed his hands together. “The hooker’s in your room, see. We got her just the way you like ‘em.”

  Keirah felt an odd sensation in the bowels of her heart, and it wasn’t because Noir had yet to put her down. She didn’t like to admit that maybe she was jealous he was seeking pleasure from a common street whore—another typical sight in the Zone—but she should have expected it. All men had needs and Noir was a man. She couldn’t understand where her jealousy was coming from. She had no claim on him; she didn’t want a claim on him …

  Right?

  And yet, there was a burning curiosity inside her to see this woman, to see what he liked. It was an odd thought Noir might actually like something other than knives, explosions, and stabbing people.

  “Well-ah, get rid of her,” Noir ordered before putting Keirah on her feet. “As you can see, I’ve got my woman.”

  “She’s a pretty one, boss,” another voice said. This man was older than the previous speaker, taller too, by about half a head. He was staring at Keirah with murky grey eyes that traveled up and down her body. “Is she gonna be staying a while?”

  Noir looked down at Keirah, a tight smile on his face as he, too, looked her up and down. It was odd; Keirah felt different when he looked at her compared to his henchmen. Instead of being disgusted, she felt self-conscious. His grip on her tightened as his head snapped back to look at the man who had spoken.

  “She is really pretty, isn’t she?” he asked. Keirah recognized the dangerous sparkle that suddenly occupied the crevices of his hazel eyes. In a flash, his whole demeanor darkened and he roared, “If any one of you touches her, I, hum … well, let’s just say I’ll make it so you can be in two places at once. She is mine and mine alone.” He returned to normal, or as normal as he could be. “Do I make myself, hum … clear?” The three men quickly nodded their heads and averted their eyes from Keirah, as though just looking at her would cause sudden dismemberment. Noir grinned, obviously pleased. “What’re you boys standing around for? Get rid of the, uh, whore.” The three scrambled to do as they were told, leaving a giggling Noir and a frozen Keirah behind.

  “I would introduce you to my henchmen, my love,” he rumbled from beside her, “but, uh, even I don’t know their names-ah. They’ll be, hum … dead by the end of the week.” He paused, his eyes searing into her skin, causing her scar to sting ever so slightly. “Sooooo, would you like the tour, princess?”

  Keirah nodded her head and Noir wrapped his arm around her as he led her through the shabby apartment. The living room was nearly empty, with only a small, old television that probably didn’t receive more than two channels
, sitting in front of a worn couch so ugly it looked as though it was bought by a blind person in the ’70s. There was a tiny kitchen with only the bare necessities: bowls, plates, cups, and utensils. Food was in the fridge, but not much; there seemed to be an excessive amount of purple grapes, however.

  “They’re my favorite,” was the only explanation he gave her.

  There was only one bedroom, probably solely reserved for Noir. As they entered, his three men were on their way out with the woman they got for him. Keirah made sure she took a good look at the woman, but she received no satisfaction from it. The woman looked nothing like her; she was a few inches shorter than Keirah, with straight blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Her skin was tan, her body curvy. Simply put, she was stunning. Keirah silently wondered why this woman was working as a hooker when she could easily be a model. However, the woman’s smirk directed toward Noir as she was led out caused any appreciation for her to fade.

  “You’re not jealous, my love, arrre you?” he asked, his eyes scrutinizing her sharply.

  “Why would I be jealous of a hooker?” Keirah all but spat.

  The man cackled, pulling her toward him. “Exactly, my dear!” he exclaimed, leaning his face down so it was nearly level with hers. “I love you, remember?” He pouted his lips and his eyes became large. “Yanno, it hurts when you don’t take my, ah, love for you seriously.”

  “I just can’t comprehend how you already love me when we barely know each other,” she replied.

  “Why, uh, why do you try to understand lah-ve, my darling?” he asked her. “Everyone-ah, from philosophers to, hum … entertainers, from playwrights to, uh, well, poets—everyone has tried to analyze, to define, to coin what love really is, and you know what they all had in common?” His eyes darkened a fraction. “They failed. No one can understand the full extent of the emotion. Everyone has a, well, they have a different perception of what love really is, and it always, hum … changes. Right now, my perception of love is you, only you. Who knows when that’ll change, if it does in the, uh, first place?”