Coming Consumed: Welcome to Carson, Book Three

by Renee Harless

  As Sydney leaves the diner that evening, having faked a loving goodbye to her parents, she can’t help the tormented thoughts whirling inside her like a hurricane. Her desire to understand why her parents had kept Avery’s birth a secret for so long overwhelms Sydney. She didn’t understand why her parents had felt the need to keep their kids in the dark about the fact that they were searching for a possible half-sibling. Avery was their sister, and they deserved the right to know about her.

  Sydney pulls into her driveway and shuts off the car’s engine, but makes no move to open the door. She is torn and needs to talk through her feelings with someone. Unfortunately, there is only one person she can fathom talking to right now, but she doubts he wants to have anything to do with her.

  Her eyes drift to the phone that has been placed in her cup holder, and before she loses anymore nerve, she picks it up and dials a number that she had saved in her Favorites, for reasons she doesn’t even want to consider.

  The phone rings once…twice… and then his deep baritone voice answers.

  “Hello? Sydney?”

  Before she can even utter a word, she collapses in her seat and sobs uncontrollably into the phone. No words: just the unmistakable tearing of her heart in torment.

  “Sydney, Angel, is everything ok?”

  She still can’t respond, the huffing of her breath as she continues to cry is the only sound that meets Dylan’s ears.

  “Sydney, I need you to stop what you’re doing and get home. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  She nods to his command and ends the call, not even acknowledging that she has heard him, before she climbs out of her car.

  Sydney walks inside her small home, then buckles into the couch that sits against the wall, across from the entryway. She curls up into herself and continues to sob earnestly, weeping for a sister she never had the chance to know growing up, and for the father who has changed every notion she has ever had of him.

  For the second time in her life, Sydney feels scared, disappointed, and utterly and completely alone.

  YLAN RUSHES AWAY FROM the small police building in Carson, where he had been meeting with his boss and the new agent who has been assigned to watch over Sydney.

  When he received her call a few minutes prior, he had left their meeting with no explanation. Something had happened, someone had hurt her, and whoever had done so was going to pay. He could hear her fear and torment on the other end of the phone line, and for the first time in all his years on the force, he had been truly scared.

  He zips over to her house, practically running from his car and into her home. He knocks softly on the door a few times, but when there is no response, he takes a chance at turning the door knob. Furrowing his brow, he has to bite back a curse as the unlocked door opens easily.

  He decides to set that conversation aside for a better time as he glances around her living room, looking for any sign of her. It takes a second for him to locate her, but his eyes widen in surprise when he sees her on the couch, curled up in a ball, fast asleep.

  Dylan secures the front door behind him and carefully walks over to the couch, then crouches down in front of her petite frame.

  Gently scooping away the hair covering her face, he stifles his gasp at the sight of the tear-stained face before him.

  “Oh, Angel,” he whispers.

  He moves his eyes up and down her body, warily checking for any injuries, but coming away with none.

  Murmuring, Dylan asks, “Baby, what happened to you?”

  As he strokes his thumb across her cheek, the beauty before him starts to open her eyes.

  “Hey, Angel. You doin’ ok?”

  “Dylan,” she utters in amazement. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “I’ll probably surprise you a lot with the things I’d do for you,” he responds and she looks at him hesitantly, but with a small smile. “So, what’s got you so worked up?”

  Sydney gently sits up and straightens on the couch as Dylan crouches in front of her legs, resting his hands softly on her thighs and rubbing small circles with his thumbs.

  “I have a sister. Not just any sister, a half-sister from an affair my father had after my sister Everleigh was born.”

  Stunned, Dylan halts his movements as a look of surprise crosses his face.

  “Your father had an affair?”

  “Well, apparently, my parents mutually separated, he had a one night stand, got back together with my mom and told her all about it, and my mother forgave him. They didn’t know he had gotten the woman pregnant until about four years later and they have been searching for her since.”

  “Wow.” Dylan exhales, “So, you’re upset about finding out you have a half-sister?”

  Sydney chuckles under her breath.

  “No, she’s amazing and had a really rough life up until this point. Avery is one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met.”

  Dylan can’t help but admire the love shimmering in Sydney’s eyes when she mentions her new found sister - a revelation that would send most people into a deep hole of depression.

  He reaches up and tucks some hair behind her ear before setting his hand on her cheek.

  “Then, what has you so worked up, Angel?” Dylan asks, reaching for her right hand and bringing the tips of her fingers to his lips, needing to taste the soft skin.

  Sydney sighs against his touch, resting her head against his palm, and mumbles, “I’m upset with my father. I guess I don’t understand why he would keep this from us until now. They’ve been looking for Avery for twenty years, Dylan. Twenty!”

  Dylan notices that her lower lip starts to tremble and he uses his thumb to halt the quivers with a tender touch.

  “I’m sure he has his reasons, Sydney. You could always ask him.”

  “I know. I just… I feel like I don’t know my father at all now. He used to tell us growing up that we are to never keep secrets, and I feel like this is a really big one. Geez, I sound like a baby. I can’t imagine how my mom is taking all of this, or how ecstatic my father is to find Avery.”

  “Did your mom seem ok?”

  “It was strange. It was like Avery was her own and she was as happy to introduce her as dad was.”

  “I see where you get your big heart from.”

  “I don’t have a big heart. I’m being childish right now because I can’t forgive my father.”

  “You will, Sydney,” Dylan says as he rises from his perch on the ground. “It will just take time.” Holding out his hand, he beckons her to join him. “Come on, Angel. Let’s get you into bed.”

  He maneuvers his way down the lone hallway and stops at the door at the end that obviously leads to her bedroom. Opening the door, he is surprised that it isn’t covered in pink and frills like the bedroom of his last so-called “girlfriend”. No, Sydney keeps her room clean and neutral. A grayish color dons the walls, while white is draped along every other surface, including her bed spread. Bursts of orange and blue colors pop in certain spots, giving the room neither a feminine or masculine feel. It is a room for comfort and relaxation, and that is exactly how Dylan feels upon entering.

  “It’s still early, Dylan,” Sydney whispers as she heads for what seems to be an attached bathroom.

  “I know, but a little extra sleep never hurt anybody.”

  She turns abruptly as she reaches the door to the bathroom.

  “Are you…I mean… do you…?” she flounders, awkwardly trying to gauge his intentions.

  “I’m staying, Angel. Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he adds confidently.

  Sydney doesn’t respond, just nods her head and heads into the bathroom, only to reappear a minute later, face clean, but her glasses still settled on her nose. She walks over to her dresser and grabs what seems to be her sleep attire, then retires back to the bathroom again.

  Dylan glances around the room once more and then chucks off his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving himself clad in just his boxer briefs. He takes one more loo
k at her bathroom door before deciding to settle his body into her bed. Pulling back the crisp white sheets, Dylan relaxes against the white tufted headboard and stares out the adjoining window as he listens to Sydney rustling around.

  As the bathroom door creaks open, Dylan’s attention returns to the beauty standing before him in an oversized t-shirt and tiny boxer shorts that are barely visible under the worn cotton. She could wear a burlap sack and he’d still be hypnotized by her long legs and flawless skin. The dominate side of him wants to watch that pale skin redden under his hand, while the protective side - the side with the strongest pull over him - wants to keep her close and guard her from whatever maniac is trying to come after her.

  As he pulls the sheets back on her side of the bed, Dylan gestures for her to step forward.

  “Come on, Angel. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Dylan watches as she nods her head silently and moves towards the bed, tucking her body under the covers. Lying on her back, she turns her head in his direction and thanks him before returning her gaze back towards the ceiling. Dylan watches her in awe as she tries to hide her small breaths and appear motionless, but even in the darkness of the room Dylan knows better – it is his job after all.

  With a huff, he scoops her up in his arms, turning her to face him, and tucks her head under his chin. With a final press of his lips to her head, he adds, “This is better. Now, go to sleep, Syd.”

  He has to work to control his dick as she scoots even closer to his body and tucks one of her legs between his. Within a few minutes, her breath evens out and she relaxes completely in his arms; a place Dylan can’t argue, feels remarkably pleasant.

  HE LIGHT SHIMMERS OFF the metal of the switchblade as it slices across her skin. The beady eyes of the man wielding its power bore into her body. She can practically taste the blood as it oozes and spurts from her arm.

  No one is there to rescue her as she sinks into the blackness.

  Calm.

  Silence.

  Death.

  Sydney jerks herself awake as the nightmare flutters within her mind. The vision has plagued her dreams for years and she had long hoped that eventually they would dissipate. Instead, they have seemed to grow stronger with the passage of time. Sometimes the dreams are quick and straightforward, as this one was. Others that happen more frequently leave her paralyzed within her mind and she relives each moment, each bite of fear, and each painful carving of her body.

  As she works to slow her breathing, Sydney glances over to the other side of the bed where she finds an imprint on the sheets. She reaches over and touches the still-warm spot where someone had rested.

  A second later, Dylan comes sauntering back in the room, twisting the cap back onto a bottle.

  “Did I wake you?” he asks softly, moving towards the opposite side of the bed.

  She hungrily eyes his incredible body, which is clad in only boxer briefs that fit snuggly onto his legs and backside.

  “No,” she whispers in return as she lies back down in the bed, turning her head to watch him settle under the sheets.

  “Sorry, I was thirsty and helped myself. I hope that you don’t mind.”

  “No,” she repeats.

  Dylan turns on his side to face her and she watches his eyes take inventory over her body.

  “I was worried about you last night. How are you feeling? When I got out of bed I heard you whimpering just a little.”

  “I’m ok. It was just a bad dream. I’m doing better now.”

  “If you’re sure?” Dylan inquires questioningly.

  As she nods her head, he takes an arm around her waist and tugs her next to his body, wrapping his arms and legs around her. Though Sydney isn’t used to sharing her bed, she must admit that the cocoon she currently finds herself in helps to erase the memories of the dream, and that alone is enough reason to settle her body into Dylan’s, falling fast asleep, wrapped in his warmth.

  Sydney wakes later to the feel of something heavy resting on her chest. At first she freezes in horror, but then remembers Dylan has stayed the night – something that she isn’t accustomed to.

  Moving his arm slowly, she slinks out from under the muscular weight and moves off the bed. When she successfully maneuvers herself free, she stands straight and does a ridiculous happy dance in place; twirling and bouncing on her toes while her arms swirl around her.

  “That’s cute, Angel, but come back to bed.”

  “Eeekkk!” Sydney shrieks at Dylan’s proclamation, embarrassed he witnesses her little display.

  She grabs the pillow from the bed and tosses it at Dylan as he turns his head to face the other direction.

  “I’m going to go make some breakfast. You stay in bed.”

  “Mmmhmm,” he mumbles unintelligibly into his pillow.

  Sydney starts to turn and head out of the room, but then she remembers how kind it was of Dylan to come be with her last night during her heartbreak.

  “Dylan, I…uh…wanted to thank you for being with me last night. It meant a lot to me.”

  He turns back to face her and as he senses her sincerity, he smirks at her with softened eyes.

  “You’re very welcome, Sydney.”

  As she leaves the bedroom and heads towards the kitchen, she remembers a piece of advice Dylan bestowed on her the night before. She needs to call her parents, more specifically, her father. Sydney needs to understand why he kept Avery’s existence a secret and how after twenty years he suddenly decides that the time is right.

  Sydney pours a glass of orange juice, wishing that she had a bottle of Champagne so that she could make a Mimosa, because a conversation like the one she is about to have requires something much stronger.

  She checks the time, 4:15am, before grabbing her cell from the charger and dialing her parent’s number, thankful that her mother still wakes in the morning as if she had to open the bakery. The phone rings three times and Sydney prays that no one answers, but of course she can’t be so lucky. Her mother picks up after the next ring.

  “Good morning, Sweets. What can I do for you today? Your father and I were getting ready to head to the farmer’s market in Asheville.”

  “I know, I’m sorry it’s so early, Mom. I wanted to know if I could speak with Dad about everything that happened last night. I’m just a little… unsettled, about all of it.”

  “Oh, Sydney, I…Let me get him for you and I’ll put you on speaker, alright?”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  A moment later, Sydney hears the phone buzz and then both of her parents asking if she is still on the line.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Oh, good, Sweets,” her mother adds. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  “I just…I’m not sure how I feel about the whole sister situation,” Sydney says into the phone as she wraps an arm around her waist and leans against the kitchen counter.

  “You should get to know Avery, Sweetheart. She is such a nice girl and has been through so much,” her father pipes in.

  “No, I know that, Dad. Avery, is great, it’s not her, it’s...” Sydney begins, then halts to take a deep breath and steels her nerves, “It’s that you’ve kept this secret from us for however many years and I want to know why. Why wouldn’t you tell us we had a sister? We’ve missed so much time.”

  Sydney hears her father take a calming breath before speaking clearly into the phone.

  “Sydney, I want you to understand that it was never our intention to keep Avery a secret. Yes, we’ve known about her for a very long time, but until recently, we had been told she had been adopted out. We never expected the scenario she bestowed upon us and never assumed her mother would have lied about putting Avery up for adoption. Your mother and I made the decision to keep Avery’s existence a secret because until she showed up at our door, we never had any proof that she actually existed. There was no need to put our family through the ringer because of a letter sent by a silly woman that lived her life however she pleased. I am sorry
that you and your siblings have lost so much time with Avery. That’s a testament to how well we raised you.”

  “But…I just feel so disappointed in… you, Dad. You taught us to be honest. You taught us that lies would only cause pain and hurt. And right now, you’ve lived the biggest lie of all.”

  “Sydney, don’t think like that,” her mother wearily whispers, sorrow evident in her voice.

  “No, Amy. She’s right and she has every reason to feel like I’ve lied to her. But, Sydney, remember we only kept Avery’s existence a secret to protect you all. We want to shield you from grief, not bring it forth. I hope that one day you can forgive me, Sydney.”

  With tears welling in her eyes and beginning to trail down her cheeks, she reaches up and wipes away the wetness.

  “Oh, Dad. I’m sorry. There’s nothing to forgive,” she adds.

  “Now, Sydney,” her father scolds, causing Sydney to chuckle lightly.

  “I know. I just don’t like feeling like I’ve been lied to. But I’ll get over it and move on. I’ll let you all head to town. I love you, both.”

  “We love you too, Sydney. Don’t ever question that,” Joseph says before ending the line.

  As Sydney ends the call and places her phone back onto the counter, she notices Dylan resting casually against the hallway wall, watching her.

  “Have you been there long?” she asks unenthusiastically as she crosses her arms over her chest.

  “Long enough to hear you forgive you father.”

  “Oh.”

  Dylan moves away from the wall and stalks toward Sydney, the muscles in his chest and abdomen bunching slightly with each step. She can’t deny her craving for him that intensifies with each step he takes closer to her. When at last he stands an arm’s length from her, he reaches out and tangles one of his hands in her hair.

  “It takes a strong person to forgive someone like that. I admire that about you,” he says as his eyes sadden before her.

  Extending her hand forward, she brushes her fingers across his chest and watches as his breath hitches at the motion.

  She licks her lips before asking, “Is everything ok?”