Edge of Darkness Box Set

by Margaret McHeyzer

  I spend the rest of the day under a cloud. So many things are dancing around in my head, making it virtually impossible for me to concentrate on anything. I drag myself through the motions, smiling blankly at people, nodding when conversation is happening and sitting next to Kristen at lunch, pretending to be listening to things our group is talking about.

  When school finishes for the day the shiny, black car is waiting for me. I ignore it as I catch the bus home.

  It doesn’t stop him from following me home.

  I want a redo of today.

  Chapter 8

  Last night at dinner, I observed my parents. Both seemed totally normal, but this instigated more questions I have no answers to.

  Are they both so used to faking everything that they have no idea how to be real with me? I had no appetite for dinner, so I sat there watching them and how they interacted.

  Our family is built on a fault-line. The cracks are below the surface and unless you’re looking for them, you don’t see them. I looked, and I looked hard. I didn’t see the cracks, which makes me believe we’re in a more delicate state then I originally thought.

  Mom talked about a new guy starting at her work, and my ears immediately pricked up. Is he the one she’s having an affair with? Or is it someone else? Is it someone I know? Is it someone Dad knows?

  Then Dad told us he’ll have to start work early for the rest of the week, and finish late next week. Does this mean he’s spending time with his own mistress? The slot machines? Or is he a poker kind of guy? Maybe he bets on the horses. Who knows? Something inside of me aches with hurt sitting at the table having the dinner Mom had taken time to prepare. It was homemade pizzas. Mom had made the dough herself. My mind ticked over frantically. Is she taking the time to give us beautiful meals because she feels guilty for letting another man near her?

  Is this the first time she’s cheated on her family?

  How long has Dad been gambling?

  Too much was going around in my head. And when dinner was over, I had a quick shower and collapsed on my bed, crying. I fell asleep with tears in my eyes, and I woke this morning with a heavy heart.

  I reach over and grab my phone from beside my bed.

  There are several text messages, most of them from Edgar. I read the first one. Call me.

  I roll my eyes and delete it, along with all the others before I even read them. I don’t need to read them to know he’ll be demanding in whatever he wants from me.

  There’s a message from Kristen too. It’s simply a love heart. This one makes me smile, a lot.

  I reply by sending her a love heart.

  The sadness returns, and I stand from my bed and make my way out to the kitchen. There’s a note on the kitchen counter from Mom.

  Dad and I had to leave early. We’ll see you tonight at dinner. Pick somewhere you want to go. Anywhere you want. Love you, Mom X

  There’s a knock on the front door. I know who it is, so I ignore it. I make myself a coffee and some cereal as the knocking becomes more insistent.

  By the time I sip my coffee, I walk over to the door an open it. The bodyguard is standing there, dressed impeccably, waiting for me. “What?” I ask with a clipped tone.

  “The car will be ready to take you to school,” he replies.

  “I’m catching the bus.”

  “Mr. Zaro would prefer I get you to school,” he says disregarding what I’ve said.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what Mr. Giant-Pain-in-my-Neck wants. I’ll be catching the bus.” I slam the door on him, but I know this is far from the end of the conversation.

  Slowly, I finish my breakfast, and head into my room to get ready for school.

  I grab my jeans and a tank top and change into them. The top is a bit tight, highlighting my curves, and usually I wouldn’t wear something so revealing. But I don’t have enough energy to care about what I’m wearing.

  Once finished, I brush through my hair, and throw it up in a high ponytail. Grabbing my school bag, I head out the front, where Edgar is waiting for me. He’s leaning against the car, smoking. I hate how good he looks in his super expensive black suit, his gold watch around his wrist, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I could honestly snap a photo of him like this, and sell it to an author for a cover of a mafia book. He’s so nice to look at.

  “I don’t like what you’re wearing. Go change,” he demands of me as I walk past him.

  I keep walking, opting not to obey.

  “I don’t want anybody looking at your tits except for me, and with this, everyone can see everything.”

  I snarl toward him, “Go away.”

  He grabs me by the hips, stopping me from walking. His body is so close to mine, I can feel the warmth rolling off him, and onto me. His grip is nearly painful, possessive, and such a huge turn-on. Why am I so attracted to him when he’s a Neanderthal?

  It screws with my mind.

  “I don’t like you dressed like this. I want you to wear something less revealing,” he whispers in my ear.

  My breath catches in my throat, as I lean my head back onto his shoulder, loving this crazy-ass behavior. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.

  “I’ll wear what I like,” I respond, though take a small step back melding my body into his.

  His arousal is evident. I love how I’m sending him crazy. But nothing good can come from this. Nothing.

  Of course, my body and my brain don’t want to communicate. They’re not friends at the moment. He greedily splays his hand on my hip, and draws me back further. My skin pebbles with excitement. My blood pulses as the thought that this bad man, a drug dealer, wants me for himself. My heart jumps with anticipation at what he’s going to say and do next.

  A part of me wants him so badly. But another part of me, the sensible part, wants to tell him to leave me alone. Right now, I’m not sure which part is winning.

  He’s making my body sing, sparking alive as a hazardous fire rips through me, risking my sanity and safety.

  There’s a devil whispering in my ear, telling me to give him a chance. And there’s a saint in my other ear, screaming how he’ll ruin me. No, not ruin, utterly annihilate me.

  But I’m strong. I can fight this effect he has on me.

  Can you? The devil whispers.

  “One date. If you want to leave after that, I’ll take you home myself. And, if you don’t want another date, I promise to never bother you again. One date, kitty. One little date.” His voice is filled with sin, sex, and a promise I’m not sure I can believe.

  My mouth answers before I have a moment to stop myself. “One date.” I swing around in his arms, and look into his dangerously wicked, dark eyes. His mouth is close to mine, his eyes are locked on mine. His body, damn, his hard body is pressed against mine.

  My throat dries, as I internally scold myself for agreeing to this.

  “I’ll pick you up tonight at six,” he says, not giving me an option to say no.

  “Tonight? It’s a school night. And I’m going out.”

  “Where are you going?” He steps back, but leaves his hands on my hips. His fingers tighten and dig into me.

  “Out.” I walk away, furious at myself for giving him this opportunity.

  “Where’s ‘out,’ Hannah?” he asks again, but this time his tone is tight, as if he’s talking through a clenched jaw.

  “Out with my parents.” I continue walking toward the bus stop. He sweeps me up, and carries me back to his car. “This confirms it. You’re insane. Put me down, Edgar.”

  With a stupid smirk on his face he keeps walking, ignoring my plea. He gets to his car, where his bodyguard opens the back door and he slides me in. “I’m taking you to school, and I’ll pick you up.”

  His possessiveness is frustrating. But I can’t lie. It’s a bit sexy, too. What is wrong with me?

  The driver has already got the car in motion, before Edgar hands me the phone he was offering me yesterday. “I’m not taking this,” I say as I turn to look away fro
m him.

  “I need to be able to get in contact with you at any time. So, you are taking it.”

  “No!” I shake my head and crinkle my forehead. “I don’t want it. And besides, this is one date. Nothing more.”

  “Yes, you didn’t tell me where you’re going tonight with your parents,” he scoffs in disgust when he says ‘parents.’

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively.

  “One can’t keep his hands off the family savings, and the other can’t keep her mouth off… ”

  “Hey!” I voice loudly before he says anything vulgar about my mother. “They’re still my parents. They may not be perfect, but they still love me.”

  “Is that what you call love? Your father gambling away your college fund, and your mom sleeping around with whoever she can?”

  “Stop it. Or else this is the last time you and I will have any kind of conversation.”

  He snorts, as if he’s the one who’s disgusted. Seriously. He’s a damned drug dealer. I’m sure his past isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.

  If I can change the conversation, hopefully the tension in the car will ease a bit. “Why do you sell drugs?” I flatly ask. No use in beating around the bush. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s very forthcoming, so I may as well be, too.

  “Because I wanted to be a millionaire by the time I hit twenty-one.” His answer is candid, which makes me believe him.

  “Did you make it?”

  “I made my first million before I was twenty-one,” he answers smugly. “Then my second million soon after my twenty-first.”

  I stare at him blankly. “Hmmm,” I grumble. “So, you’re a millionaire?”

  “Multi-millionaire,” he corrects.

  “All from drugs? Are you proud?” I notice his smug smile drops slightly. “Are your parents proud?” He flinches when I mention his parents.

  “They’re dead,” he says in an expressionless voice. But for some reason, I don’t think they’re actually dead. More like, dead to him.

  “Do you think they’d be proud of you obtaining your wealth this way?”

  “I’m not talking about my parents, Hannah. They aren’t a topic of conversation you should bring up again.” His tone has changed, it’s more somber and clipped. There’s clearly a story there, but I doubt it’s one he’ll ever tell me.

  “But you can demand to know where I’m going? Right, so this is one-sided. Not a two-way street.”

  He furrows his brows together, then his lips draw up into a sneaky smirk. “It’s whatever I want it to be, and right now, I want you.” He lays his hand on my thigh and squeezes it tightly.

  We arrive at school, and my bodyguard opens the door for me. “Does he need to be here?” I ask, almost resigned to the fact he’s here to stay.

  “Yes.” He gives me no other option.

  “Can he stay outside. It’ll be hard for me to explain him to… well… everyone.”

  Edgar stares at me, considering my request. It takes him a few minutes before he answers. “If you try to leave without him, I’ll know, and I won’t be happy.” It’s not a direct threat, but it’s definitely his way of telling me not to try to ditch the bodyguard.

  His deadly, grim stare sends a shiver down my body. I know he’s serious. “I won’t,” I say trying not to make him angry.

  His demeanor immediately lightens as he smiles at me. “Then he can wait for you outside the school,” he says loudly enough for the bodyguard to hear him. “I’ll pick you up when school finishes.”

  “Okay,” I respond as I slide out of the car.

  “Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

  “Um, no.”

  He smiles again. Much more relaxed. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” The bodyguard shuts the door, and the black car drives away.

  We’re both left behind. “Do I get to know your name?” I ask.

  “No.” He steps back onto the grass, and resumes “bodyguard” position.

  “Right.” I look at him, feeling awkwardly out of place. “I’ll just go to school then.” He slides his sunglasses over his eyes, and stares ahead. Okay then.

  “Hey, girl. What’s happening?” Kristen calls as she does a double-take, looking between me and the bodyguard. “Who’s the guy?” she whispers as we walk into school.

  I’m not sure how to explain him, so I don’t. “I’m not sure.” I shrug my shoulders to add conviction to my lie.

  “Huh, well he’s cute for an older guy. And kinda scary. I wonder what he’s doing here. He looks like he’s a cross between a secret service agent and an assassin.”

  My brows fly up, mocking her. “An assassin?”

  “Yeah, he has that deadly ‘don’t screw with me’ demeanor.” She glances over her shoulder as we enter school, giving my secret bodyguard another look. “Definitely. He’s probably packing a gun.”

  I shudder at the thought. “Anyway, what’s happening with you and Brad? I haven’t really talked to you much lately. I’ve had a few things going on, you know?” The moment I said Brad’s name, her eyes light up, as if she can see little love hearts dancing in front of her.

  “Oh my God!” she nearly shouts as she grabs onto my upper arm and squeezes. She’s walking on air, I can tell how happy he makes her, and I love this so much. “He’s such a nice guy. We’re going on our first proper date on Saturday. He’s taking me to the movies. He even came home and asked my Dad for permission to take me to the movies. How old-fashioned.” She giggles like a little school girl. “He’s been walking me home every day, and he waits for me so we can walk to school together. Except today, he said he had to help his mom with something.” Her dreamy gaze is infectious, because I start thinking about Edgar. I’m a more than a little jealous of how tightly Kristen and Brad fit together and what they have with each other. “Tell me what happened with Zac,” she says, hurtling me back to reality.

  “He came to the school and offered to take me for coffee. We went, but… ” I screw my nose up. I don’t want to tell her about Edgar, because I know what she’s going to say. She’ll tell me he’s not a good guy, and I shouldn’t be involved with someone like him.

  “But?” she pushes. I look away. We reach Kristen’s locker first, and she opens it. She’s waiting to hear what I have to say, but I’m not sure what to say without telling another lie. “But?” she asks again once her locker door is flung open. “Come on? What happened? Did he try to hit on you? Feel your breast? Stick his tongue down your mouth? What?”

  “No, nothing like that. He’s just not the type of guy I’m interested in. I thought I was, but as it works out, I’m not.” No, I prefer the broody, dangerous ones.

  “But you were both so into each other.”

  “I’m not interested in him, Kristen. I thought I was. It’s hard to explain. There wasn’t any chemistry.” Edgar on the other hand. Hmmm.

  “What a shame, I thought you two would be cute together.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not meant to be. If it was, I’d get those stomach flutters and a huge smile every time I’d think of him. And he doesn’t give me anything like that. Nothing. He’s a nice guy, just not my nice guy.” Nothing like the shivers I get when I look at Edgar.

  “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone else who will give you those things.”

  She doesn’t know it, but I already have.

  I remain tight-lipped; I don’t want to say anything about Edgar. I simply can’t.

  The bell rings and we head off to class. Kristen is still in a dream-like state, talking about how wonderful Brad is; I’m thinking about Edgar. Even though I know I shouldn’t be.

  The day goes by fairly quickly, and before I know it, the last bell rings. Packing up my things, I head toward my locker, where the bodyguard is standing. “I asked you to stay outside,” I say as I approach, open my locker, and get my things out.

  There are lots of kids trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. I’m trying to covertly talk to him, so no one sees or a
sks any questions. Looking around, I’m trying to avoid Kristen, or even Brad. Especially after his ‘friendly’ chat last week.

  “I do what Mr. Zaro wants me to do,” he says. His tone is stern, and could be interpreted as offensive.

  “Can you please go outside and wait for me?” I beg in a small voice.

  He straightens his shoulders, and looks ahead. I guess he’s giving me a definitive answer. No.

  I try to kill some time, hoping the hallways will empty before I leave. I don’t want the questions. Man, how many people go to this school? It’s a never-ending stream of people.

  If I don’t go now, someone will see, and questions will be asked. I slam my locker shut, lower my head, and clutch my bag. I make a bee-line for the front door, not looking up so I don’t have to make eye contact with anyone.

  I see the black car waiting for me.

  I know he’s in there, waiting. I head straight for it. the bodyguard beats me to it, opens the back door and I slide in. I slide down and tilt my head. Not that it matters. These windows are so dark, anything could happen in the back and no one would see a thing.

  “Kitty, how was school?” His voice drips with sex. It’s liquid gold. His tone is deep and sultry, with a hint of a rich baritone. God, it’s sexy.

  “Good,” I reply as I keep an eye out to make sure no one saw me.

  “Who are you hiding from? Is there a problem?” his voice changes again. It becomes darker and deeper. More protective.

  “I’m not hiding from anyone. It’s just… ” my voice trails off to nothing.

  “You’re embarrassed?” he asks, angry.

  “Yes. You’re not exactly someone I want to be seen with. How do I explain you? How do I explain this?” I point to him, then me. “I can’t. It’s easier to not say anything. And let me tell you, not saying anything is difficult when you have him standing beside my locker.” I gesture to the bodyguard. “Can you not send him in to do that, please?”

  He rubs his hand over his chin, considering my request. “He can stay out.” The bodyguard from the front laughs, as if he knows something I don’t.