Edge of Darkness Box Set

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “Your parent’s are the best to let us all hang out here,” Reece says while he keeps an eye on Luke, who’s paddling around like a champion.

  “Mom and Dad put the pool in because they said they’d rather have all our friends hanging here, than us being somewhere where we may not be so safe.” I cringe at those words, because all their efforts have been in vain. Even they couldn’t protect me.

  Reece notices my shift in moods and swims over to me, embracing me in a hug. We haven’t kissed yet, unless you count Reece giving me a peck on the cheek, or on the forehead. I’m nowhere near being ready to become that intimate with him. Suddenly the mood shifts even lower, and now I feel horrible for not being able to give Reece a kiss and for Mom and Dad not being able to protect me. “Stop it, Dakota,” Reece responds to my plummeting mood.

  “I can’t help it.” I look up into his eyes and he gives me the sweetest smile. “I can’t even kiss you yet.”

  “Remember.” He taps me on the nose. “My heart is yours. And it can wait until you’re ready.”

  Suddenly, I get hit in the back of the head with something soft and wet. “What twas that?” I shriek, turning around to see Sam laughing hard, and the evidence of what was a water bomb. “You did not!”

  “I so did.” She wobbles her head from side to side, and lifts her finger to make a sassy ‘Z’ before snapping her fingers together.

  “That’s it.”

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get the girls,” Reece says to Luke.

  “Yeah, water booooommmbs,” Luke eagerly replies.

  Sam and Taylor have been busy, because there are literally hundreds of small water bombs in a huge bucket on the patio. “You’re so gonna get it,” I say to my sister and her devious boyfriend, who are using the side of the house as a shield.

  I look over to the pool where Sophie is sitting on the steps, laughing and shaking her head. “I’ll sit this one out,” she yells at us.

  “Party pooper.” I poke my tongue out at her in jest.

  Picking up some water bombs, I sneak quietly around and lob three at my sister, who ducks down, dodging every single one I throw. Instead I get Taylor, who then chases me, throwing his bombs at my back. Laughing I try to get away, but I’m met with Reece and Luke, who are both armed and ready to attack.

  “Hey, Luke?”

  Luke throws one bomb from hand to hand, standing tall with a huge smile on his face. “Yeah,” he responds.

  Sneaking a look over my shoulder, both Sam and Taylor are hiding while Reece and Luke are ganging up against me. “You like my pool?”

  Reece’s mouth drops open and he playfully glares at me. “Don’t listen to her, buddy. She’s going to try to get me, and she’s going to use you to do it.”

  “Nah, she won’t. She’s nice.”

  “If you like using my pool, you can come over every day and use it if you help me get your brother and my sister.”

  Luke’s little eyes smile mischievously and I know he’s on my side now.

  “Don’t listen to her, buddy,” Reece reiterates, desperate to hold onto his little brother.

  I give him a small nod, and with both of my hands fully loaded with water bombs, and Luke’s little hands holding a bomb each, we attack Reece.

  Reece starts laughing, and makes a beeline straight for me. He grabs me around the waist, and calls to his brother, “Now, buddy.”

  Luke pelts me with water bombs. I’m laughing so hard I have happy tears streaming down my face. “Let me go,” I try to say between the laughter.

  Reece leans in and whispers, “Let’s go get your sister.” He then lightly pecks me on the cheek. I nod my head enthusiastically and stop struggling. “Luke, come here.” Luke comes over and Reece leans down to whisper to Luke how we’re going to get my sister and Taylor.

  “Ready,” Luke announces proudly, sticking his little chest out.

  The three of us sneak around the side of the house, however we don’t find Sam or Taylor. As we turn back, we’re ambushed by them. “It’s a trap!” I yell and start throwing with my eyes closed, hoping I hit either of them and not Reece or Luke.

  There’s a lot of yelling, laughing and water flying around.

  Reece, Luke, and I start taking charge and keep moving forward, making Sam and Taylor retreat toward the back slider. We’re encroaching and they’re looking around, trying to find something to shield themselves.

  “Right,” I say while throwing a water bomb up and catching it, taunting them.

  “Right,” Luke’s little voice echoes mine.

  “Right. This is war,” Reece announces.

  Sam’s eyes are frantically moving, searching for something she can use as cover while Taylor’s gaze is focusing on our three water bombs versus their two.

  “Ready?” I ask my two soldiers.

  “Ready,” they respond, synchronized.

  “Set.”

  They both take aim, and Sam bursts into laughter before the water balloons even leave our hands.

  Then, the absolute worst thing that could happen does, just as I scream out, “Fire!”

  Sam and Taylor duck at the same time that Mom comes through the slider carrying a pitcher of lemonade, and all three water balloons miss Taylor and Sam and get Mom. One in the face, one in the head, and one knocks the pitcher off the serving tray.

  It’s so quiet, all I can hear is everyone breathing. Mom gasps and looks down at her completely drenched sundress. Her hair is all wet, and stuck to her face. Water is hanging on her cheek, big droplets falling to land on her chest.

  “Did I just get hit by three water balloons?” she asks in an eerily quiet voice.

  I look to Reece and then Sam. We’ve all got our lips pursed as tightly as possible, holding in gales of laughter, bursting to rip out of our mouths.

  Taylor looks like he’s going to be sick. And although Luke has his little hand over his mouth, the giggles are escaping.

  “Even you, Luke?” Mom asks when she lifts her head to look at us all.

  “I’m sorry.” Luke answers, though his tone really says ‘this is the funniest thing ever, Mrs. B.’

  “That was fresh homemade lemonade,” Mom says looking at the huge puddle at her feet in dismay.

  “Or pee,” Luke cheekily says.

  “Damn,” Sophie mumbles from over at the pool, then claps her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.

  Mom turns her head slowly, her eyes narrow and a menacing smile tugs at her lips. She looks sideways, seeing exactly where we’re all positioned and then at the bucket which has only a few water balloons left down the bottom.

  We’re all watching her, ready to have her rip us a new one because we made her spill her lemonade.

  Oh crap.

  Mom dives to the bucket and grabs the last few water bombs, attacking us while laughing hard.

  We all duck for cover, but not before she pitches some pretty decent throws at us. She gets us all, at least once.

  “Right. I’m going inside to get cleaned up, and to have the last little bit of the lemonade I made. You can all have water,” she calls from over her shoulder.

  We’re all laughing, tears streaming down our faces. Reece picks Luke up, and throws him in the pool then jumps in to join him. “Come on, it’s so nice in here,” he calls to us when he comes up from under the water.

  Sam’s already running toward the pool, and I head over to get the hose so I can clean the patio where Mom dropped the pitcher of lemonade.

  Once I’ve cleaned up, I go and join the rest of them in the pool.

  “I can do a handstand, wanna see?” Luke asks me as I sit on the step of the pool.

  “No you can’t.”

  “I so can. Look.” He’s in the shallow end and ducks under the water. He barely makes it down to touch the bottom before he swims up with a huge smile on his face. “See?”

  “Did you even touch the bottom?” I ask.

  “Yeah, look!” He dives back in and no quicker than he’s gone under,
he’s back up again.

  “Luke is such a confident swimmer,” I say to Reece.

  “He’s a water baby. Mom had him in lessons from when he was six months old. He loves it.”

  The back slider door slams open and we all look to the commotion of what’s happening. Dad’s home from work early and he has the angriest look I’ve ever seen on his face. He steps through, his hands on his hips, his back straight and his chest puffed out. His wild eyes look everywhere, taking in everyone who’s out here in the pool.

  Mom stumbles out behind him, with a dry dress on and a towel in her hands as she wrings the water out of her hair.

  “Honey, what’s going on?” she asks, placing a calming hand on Dad’s shoulder.

  Dad looks at Mom, his jaw tight and body stiff from sheer rage. He looks back to us, where we’re all still from the attention he acquired with his overwhelmingly angry presence. “Unless you’re either of my two daughters, get out.”

  Double crap.

  “Um.” Reece looks over to me, his face etched with worry.

  “It’s okay. Just go, I’ll call you later.”

  “Come on, buddy, we gotta get home to help Mom with some chores.”

  Luke swims over to Reece and the two get out of the pool. “Hey, Reece can you give me a lift home please?” Sophie asks.

  “Sure. Do you need a lift too, Taylor?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  We all get out of the pool, and they all leave with a promise to call us later on tonight.

  I grab a towel and wrap it around my body, and Sam does the same thing.

  Dad’s standing incredibly still, his face is furious and everything inside of me is saying he’s angry at me. I must’ve done something to make him this mad.

  “What’s going on, Owen?” Mom asks, her voice dropping.

  “Go and dry off, then get your asses into the family room.”

  “Owen, why are you being so rough with the kids?”

  As I walk past Dad, his eyes narrow further and his brows draw in together. “We need to talk,” Dad says to me.

  My stomach flips and drops. His tone screams, ‘I know.’

  I take myself to my bedroom, close the door and lose every ounce of control I have.

  Chapter 36

  Changing out of my one-piece, I put on a pair of jeans and long sleeved, light sweater. Shudders of ice tear through me, cooling my body… terrifying me.

  Opening my door slowly, I try and listen to the hushed whispers coming from the family room. I can’t hear anything definitive, only small murmurs. I stick my head out of my door and see Sam’s leaning against the hallway wall, listening intently.

  “What’s going on?” I mouth to her and lift my shoulders in question.

  “I don’t know,” she mouths back. Then she puts a finger to her mouth and shushes me.

  Stealthily, I move to stand beside Sam, hoping to get some insight as to why Dad’s home early, why he threw everyone out and why he wants to talk to me specifically.

  My stomach drops.

  Deep down inside, I know why. But I’m hoping it’s not that, it’s humiliating enough that it happened, it’s vulgar for my parents to know. A shudder rips through me at the thought.

  “Girls, get in here,” Dad calls. My shoulders stiffen and I’m abruptly hit with the inability to respond or move. My legs feel like a ton of concrete has been poured over them, making them immobile.

  “Let’s face this together.” Sam links our fingers encouragingly.

  But I can’t move. Fear is rising rapidly inside me, causing all of my senses to shut down. I can’t hear anything, it’s all muffled and strained. Black spots float in front of my eyes. I can’t do this. I can’t look into their eyes and lie any more. “I can’t, Sam,” I whisper and squeeze her hand tighter.

  “We have to. I’ll be with you. I promise, I won’t leave.” Her words should ease the guilt and shame pounding in my veins, but all they do is reinforce the severity of what’s about to happen.

  “Girls,” Dad calls again, his tone is deadly low and holds an air of command.

  Sam stands in front of me, looking me square in the eyes. “You can do this,” she says. “I’ll be there with you.”

  I nod my head, and slowly shuffle in to the family room, with Sam beside me. Mom and Dad are sitting on the sofa next to each other, and Dad has his cell phone out on the table in front of him. I look at Mom, who’s been crying. Her face is pink and splotchy, her eyes are red-rimmed and she’s clutching a tissue in her hand. The tissue box has been moved, and sits beside her on the sofa. Crap.

  Sam and I head for the opposite sofa, and sit, huddled together. In this explosive moment, she’s my rock, my strength. There’s nothing I’ll ever do in my life that will even come close to repaying her for everything she’s done for me.

  Dad’s eyes focus on us. He takes in exactly how close we’re sitting, and how we’re holding onto each other. He takes a deep breath and looks down to his phone. Picking it up, he silently swipes at the screen, and brings something up. He places it on the small wooden table between us. He pushes it over to me, his eyes glued to the phone’s screen.

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I regroup and take a deep, pained breath, gathering all my courage to pick the phone up and look at whatever is on the screen.

  Deep down, though, I know. A picture has gotten back to him.

  Mom’s sob makes me open my eyes and stare at the innocent phone waiting for me to pick it up. Opening my mouth I take a deep breath in, hold it for a few seconds before releasing it. Untangling from Sam, I lean over and pick up Dad’s phone. The picture on it is the one Sam received shortly after that night.

  “Care to explain?” Dad asks in a tone I’ve never heard him use before. There’s definite anger, heavily tinged with disappointment, possibly even shame.

  “I can’t,” I croak with the scratchiest voice. The words I speak are tiny, almost breathless.

  Looking over at Mom, her chin quivers as she holds in a cry.

  “Then care to explain how they ended up on social media this morning?” I place the phone back on the table, and don’t look at the sickening photo taunting me . . . haunting me.

  He said, they. I look to Sam and she lifts her shoulders to me, silently telling me she has no idea what on earth is going on.

  “They?” my voice breaks.

  “Yes, they.” Mom hasn’t moved, but Dad takes the phone and brings up another offensive image before placing it back on the table. Both are sitting, waiting for me to explain.

  I hesitantly reach out to take the phone, my fingers are icy cold and trembling from dread as I reach for the phone again. My anxiety level is sky high while my chest hurts from the way my heart is wildly beating against it. I retract my hand quickly and grab onto Sam’s hand.

  It’s so quiet in here. Other than Mom’s small wail, nothing else can be heard. “I can’t,” I repeat, terrified and ashamed.

  “You need to start talking.” Dad pushes the phone in my direction.

  My eyes land on the screen, and I take in another large breath. It’s a picture of me, at prom, but not one I’ve seen before. It’s explicit and revolting. I look up at Dad, and don’t dare look at Mom. Dad’s eyes show a new level of disgust.

  “It’s not what you think,” I say.

  “Dad,” Sam starts saying. But the moment Dad shoots her a ‘don’t you dare’ look, she doesn’t say anything else.

  This is on me, not her. She shouldn’t have to fight my battle.

  Dad’s intense stare comes straight back to me. I have to be brave. I have to tell my parents what happened, regardless of the consequences.

  They won’t believe me, not now. It’s been too long, far too long.

  “You better start talking, Dakota.”

  I swallow, and try to get everything sorted in my head. A part of me knew this day would come, I just never thought it would be here so quickly. Maybe twenty years, not weeks. “It happened at prom,” I begin.
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  “Oh God,” Mom sighs and clasps her hand to her mouth.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, or at the very least your mother, that you were considering having sex? And why on earth would you let someone take photos of you while you were having sex? Have you learned nothing about social media? Don’t you know the dangers and risks involved in letting someone have pictures like these of you?” Dad says. His voice is eerily calm, however the tension in his tone is enough to tell me he’s hanging on to his control by the thinnest thread.

  Vomit quickly rises and my body shudders from the hell breaking out inside my body. They think I willingly did this, which makes it even worse.

  “It’s not what you think,” I yell, losing all my control. I abruptly stand and move away from the sofa, pacing back and forth. I bring my hands up to my hair, and tug on the ends in frustration and angst.

  “If it’s not what we think, then explain it to me,” Dad counters, standing as well and following my pace from in between the facing sofas.

  “Help us understand, darling. We won’t judge you,” Mom sweetly says.

  Judging is exactly what they’re doing.

  “Dad, if I can say something,” Sam interrupts.

  “No, Samantha, you cannot say anything. You’re here because you’re part of this family, so just sit and listen.”

  Sam winces away at Dad’s angry words, and she looks at me sympathetically. I shake my head at her and smile, telling her without words how it’s okay and not to feel hurt with Dad.

  “Dad,” I start saying. Tears sting my eyes while my heart shatters into millions of tiny pieces. Once the words are out, I know I’ll be unloved, I know they’ll look at me with nothing but disgust and contempt.

  “Tell me it wasn’t Levi? Did he create the group on social media and upload all these photos of you, like this?” He spits the last words out, repulsed.

  “What?! No! I don’t know who did this.” I point to the phone. “I don’t know who took the photos.” I let more tears slip as I huddle into myself. “I don’t even know what happened,” I finally admit.

  Dad takes a stumbling step back.

  “What are you saying, Dakota?” Mom whispers.