Spark

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Spark Page 7

by J Marie


  “Yeah, I’m gonna pass on that,” I said, giving her a disinterested look, and laid

  back against the pillow, closing my eyes.

  “Oh, come on, Jaden,” she said with that annoying cheery voice, but then she

  made the mistake of putting her hands on my shoulder. “It’ll be fu—”

  On pure instinct, I grabbed her narrow wrist and twisted it away from my

  shoulder, holding it in place as I stared her down in warning. She gasped in shock

  as she attempted to pull away.

  “Look, Holly, I might be injured, but I can still hurt you. And I really don’t want

  to do that. So please … just go.”

  I released her wrist and turned back around, my back to her as I pulled the

  blanket back up to my shoulders with every intention of going right back to sleep.

  “Jaden, I really don’t want to have to alert Mr. Davis about this,” she said with

  regret.

  “Get him.” I shrugged, not giving a shit. “Good luck, though.” If she could even

  get through to him.

  I heard a slow, disappointed sigh before her light footsteps headed for the door,

  closing it behind her. Good. I could go back to sleep now. But it wasn’t meant to be;

  about two minutes later, and being nearly asleep, I thought I heard the door to my

  suite get ripped off its hinges. I flinched instinctively at the noise only to then find

  rough hands grabbing me by my upper arms and lifting me up from my pillow.

  “What the FUCK did I tell you yesterday at breakfast?!” Darren roared at me. I

  flinched but found my voice as I glared at him.

  “I could ask you the same thing!” I shouted back, my voice cracked and dry from

  the early morning.

  “Get up, get dressed, and get your ass moving. Now!”

  “Or what, Darren?” I snickered.

  He couldn’t physically hurt me, not without sending me back weeks of recovery,

  and any further mental punishment would only drive me further into my

  depression. What the fuck did he think he had over me now? Maybe my family, but

  he already admitted who his real targets were.

  Darren’s eyes flickered for a second in frustration before they settled back on

  me, his lips curving into a sly grin.

  “Or,” he said with a smirk, “you’re going to spend the entire day with me.”

  I furrowed my brows at him. Was he joking?

  “What?” I said in shock.

  “You heard me. Either you spend your day with Holly or you can spend it with

  me in my office, and believe me, Jaden, I can come up with plenty of things to keep

  you occupied,” he sneered.

  I scowled at him in disgust. I didn’t want to spend a single second in his

  company, let alone an entire day with him. Even though it might give me some

  insight on his business, I somehow doubted he would divulge anything that would

  give him away. But I also really didn’t want to spend the day with Holly either. I

  guess it had to come down to the lesser of two evils.

  “Fine,” I bit out. “I’ll go with Holly.”

  “Good girl,” he said and released me, dropping me back down onto my pillow.

  Darren turned and immediately headed for the door. “You have five minutes to get

  your ass ready,” he said sharply and slammed the door shut behind him.

  I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly sat up, resting my elbows on my knees and

  running my hands through my hair. I looked over at the clock to find it was fucking

  seven o’clock in the morning. Why the fuck were they waking me up so early?! And

  where the fuck was Hank and Blondie? Where was Ginsby?

  Irritated, I shoved myself off the reading nook and practically stomped my way

  to the bathroom. Exactly four minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom; my hair

  was in a high ponytail, and I felt somewhat awake. I found clothes already laid out

  on my hospital bed and was surprised to find a pair of actual shorts rather than a

  stupid-ass skort. I picked up the white shorts and examined them, wondering if

  you could even call them shorts before they became straight up underwear. At least

  they were athletic and looked comfortable. There was also a matching white tank

  top with a built-in bra inside and a pair of hot pink running shoes.

  Quickly changing into my new Darren-mandated outfit, I tightened my ponytail

  and headed toward the door, tentatively pulling it open. I was shocked to find it

  wasn’t locked, but the shock instantly died away when I found Blondie and Hank

  standing guard on either side of the door. Well, duh.

  Holly quietly paced the hallway in front of the door with a worried look on her

  face. Maybe she was nervous I’d be pissed at her for tattling on me. Good.

  “Hey, tattletale,” I mocked with a smartass grin on my face. I knew I was going

  to be forced into doing this anyway, so getting to piss Darren off at seven o’clock in

  the morning was my way of compensation. Worth every penny.

  Holly immediately turned at the sound of my voice, her hands clasped together

  at the top of her chest like she was hoping for forgiveness or something.

  “Oh, good, you’re ready.” She smiled and then nearly jumped in excitement. It’d

  be a miracle if I didn’t punch this bitch in the throat in the next five minutes. It was

  seven in the morning, for fuck’s sake.

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway expectedly, raising an

  eyebrow and awaiting the orders of my new temporary commander-in-chief.

  “Care to explain why I’m awake at the crack ass of dawn?” I asked.

  I loved that she flinched at my bluntness. I was curious to see how soon she’d

  get used to it.

  “Yes. Come on,” she said brightly, encouraging me to follow her. “I think you’re

  really going to enjoy this.”

  “Not unless it involves me either going back to bed or getting piss drunk,” I

  grumbled.

  She giggled awkwardly in response as if I was joking or something. This was

  going to be a fun day.

  She led me outside the house, with Hank and Blondie in tow, until we finally

  came to the shore. I realized then what she thought I was going to enjoy. It wasn’t

  as if I hadn’t ever seen a sunset before. Whoopty-fucking-doo. And then I saw the

  yoga mats laid out in the sand. I rolled my eyes. How original.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Holly beamed as we stopped in front of the two mats, and

  she looked out at the sunrise. The same old light pinks, purples, yellows, and

  oranges blurred with the sky while the sun fought its way up through the horizon to

  greet us.

  “It’s great,” I said dismissively and moved to sit down on my mat. Holly joined

  me a moment later.

  A small white porcelain bowl with a lid and spoon sat on both our mats, along

  with bottles of water with lemon, cucumber, and mint. I lifted the lid to the bowl to

  find oatmeal with sliced bananas, strawberries, and blueberries.

  “I had our breakfast brought out for us,” Holly said like it was the best idea

  she’d ever had.

  “Thanks,” I said as I picked up my spoon and started digging in. The oatmeal

  was soft enough to chew without bothering my jaw, and the water was actually

  pretty refreshing.

  “I thought we might start out with some beginner’s yoga,” she said cheerily as

  we set our bowls aside.
I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Beginners? Seriously?” I was an advanced practitioner, for fuck’s sakes, not

  some goddamn beginner.

  “Yes, since you’re still healing from your injuries, I didn’t want to push you too

  hard.”

  How nice of her.

  “Thanks for your concern, but I’ll decide my limits.” And with that, I

  immediately pushed myself up into a downward dog position and began to stretch

  out my calves. Holly sighed in defeat and followed my position.

  For the next hour, Holly and I practiced semi-advanced yoga. Much to my

  frustration, my wrist and torso ached whenever I experienced too much pressure.

  My wrist was mostly healed, but my ribs were still on the mend. Hank and Blondie

  stood off about twenty feet away, their eyes ever watchful as I tried to pretend they

  weren’t there.

  I was beyond pissed off that I was seriously lacking in my yoga skills. My

  muscles were tense from their little hibernation, and with every change in position,

  my joints cracked in protest. Sunrise yoga didn’t relax me as Holly had planned. If

  anything, it just made me angrier at Darren for weakening me. I wanted to crush

  him, feel the bones in his neck snap like he had done to me, but I had to get better

  first.

  It didn’t take long for Holly to feel the heated rage coming off me, so she

  suggested we meditate to clear our minds of all negativity. I tried. I tried really

  fucking hard to focus on the sound of the rolling waves crashing against the shore,

  the feel of the warm breeze on my skin as the loose strands of my hair tickled my

  face, and the smell of the salt in the air; but all I could concentrate on was how my

  heart beat with a rage so intense I thought my chest would burst.

  I wanted to murder Darren. I wanted to violently rip him from limb to limb until

  he was nothing but a bloody puzzle of human remains. But that wasn’t going to

  happen … at least not with my bare hands.

  After pretending to calm down for a half hour, Holly decided we should get up

  and move on to the next stupid activity she had planned for me. We walked back

  into the house, heading toward the sunroom at the south end of the house. The

  room was all windows, giving everyone another perfect view of the ocean.

  Set up in front of the windows were two easels holding large blank white

  canvases. Trays of colorful paint and brushes were laid out on tables next to the

  easels. I immediately crossed my arms and turned to Holly.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  She flinched again but recovered quickly. “Have you ever painted before,

  Jaden?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “No. I have no interest in painting.”

  “I thought it would be fun. You can paint whatever you want. Whatever is on

  your mind. Just let the colors speak for themselves,” she beamed at me.

  The only color that had any influence at the moment was the red I saw in my

  vision. What the fuck was this? Some kind of therapy attempt? Fuck off with that

  shit.

  “So, what, you’re suddenly my therapist now? This is supposed to be some

  bullshit form of therapeutic relaxation?”

  “Well, no,” she said, her voice becoming small. “I just thought—”

  “You just thought what? That I’d paint you a little picture of the fucked-up shit

  inside my head so you can see what it looks like?”

  “Jaden,” she said, taken aback at my abrasiveness. “I’m just trying to help you.”

  I leaned into her, my jaw now aching from clenching. “You can’t help me, Holly.

  No one can. It’s not allowed. I’m on my own in this.”

  “Miss Jaden,” Hank called out to me from outside the doorway, my warning to

  shut my mouth before I gave away too much. I scowled in his direction before

  turning back to Holly.

  “I am not fucking painting,” I said a little too loudly and turned to walk out of

  the room.

  I made it to the doorway only to stop in my tracks when I suddenly caught sight

  of Darren standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed

  over his chest as he stared me down. I could feel the icy chill of his glare as it

  crawled up my spine, warning me to comply. Apparently, I would be painting after

  all.

  My hands balled into tight fists at my sides until my knuckles turned white.

  With an irritated groan, I turned and begrudgingly marched back into the sunroom,

  a slight look of fear now plastered on Holly’s face. “Fine! You want me to paint?” I

  growled as I stormed toward the easel. I grabbed the canvas and slammed it onto

  the floor. “Then let’s fucking paint!” I then took the tray, set it on the floor next to

  the canvas, and dipped my fingers into the black inky acrylic paint.

  Kneeling down, I traced my paint-covered fingers angrily along the canvas,

  brushing it in all different directions. For several minutes, my blood rushed wildly

  as I swept more globs of black paint along the canvas, occasionally mixing in some

  gray or red. Holly stood off to the side, completely ignoring her canvas as she

  watched me uneasily. My heart raced while my breathing was quick and sharp; my

  blood pulsed through my veins with every stroke of my finger. I was sure finger

  painting on the floor wasn’t what Holly had in mind, but hey, at least I was

  participating.

  When I was satisfied with my canvas, I took the bottom of my fist, covered it in a

  giant gob of blood red paint, and slammed it down on the middle right area of the

  painting. I then quickly picked it up and roughly placed it back on the easel to

  watch the red paint from my fist begin to slowly drip down the canvas.

  My masterpiece.

  Holly said to let the colors speak for themselves, and I did. Those colors spoke a

  thousand words, but they would never be heard. No one on this fucking island was

  listening to those words; no one would even care to understand them … except one,

  and he would punish me for it.

  I looked down at my bare hands covered in black and red paint like I had

  murdered someone with the blackness of my own heart. I turned my back on the

  painting and a concerned Holly as I walked out of the room toward the bathroom. I

  didn’t even care that I got wet paint on any handle I touched as I vigorously washed

  my hands in the sink, rinsing my darkness away.

  And when I was clean, I parked my ass on the bathroom floor, pulled my knees

  to my chest, ran my hands through my hair, and took several deep breaths to calm

  down. I wanted to scream; I wanted to cry, and rebel, and break all kinds of shit, but

  it would do no good. I was not helping myself here. Holly was here to make me

  better, but the only thing she had successfully done was piss me off.

  This was exactly why I didn’t need her!

  I didn’t know what the fuck Darren was thinking. Did he think she’d somehow

  annoy me back to health? Maybe it was my motivation to get better, so I’d never

  have to see her stupid ass face again. Darren did have a sick sense of humor.

  After ten minutes of trying to calm my shit down, I heard a knock on the

  bathroom door.

  “Jaden? Are you all right?” came a timid voice from the other side.

  “I’m fine, Holly. I’ll be out in
a minute.”

  “Okay, take your time. I’ll be just outside.”

  Great.

  After my minute was up, I stood and caught my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t

  recognize her. And I shouldn’t because technically, she wasn’t even alive anymore.

  She died a long time ago in an alley from a drug overdose. And the thing that

  replaced her was nothing shy of a failure.

  No. That wasn’t true. I had successfully completed my goal. I had escaped and

  got my family out of Darren’s reach. That was all I really wanted. I knew someone

  would eventually catch me, but as long as I had gotten the job done first, then it

  would be worth it. I would pay those consequences if it meant I could save them.

  And I did, so I was. I had to take the bad with the good. I had to find my colors in the

  dark even if the only color was red; otherwise, I’d be swallowed whole and never

  resurface.

  As much as I hated to admit it, I had to give Holly a chance. I doubted her skills

  as a physical therapist could help me, but maybe I could at least be grateful for her

  company. After all, she was the only one allowed to talk to me casually.

  I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to dispel the anger in my eyes before I

  opened the door and leaned against the frame. Holly was sitting on a bench in the

  hallway. Hank and Blondie remained standing at their posts in front of the

  sunroom.

  “Jaden, are you okay? I didn’t think—” Holly spoke quickly, like she was going

  to apologize, but I cut her off.

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I have a very short fuse, and I’m not

  very good at controlling my anger. At least right now.”

  Holly smiled, pleasantly surprised by my apology. “It’s okay, Jaden. I

  understand. Don’t worry, though. We will figure this out together.”

  I nodded in acknowledgment. There would be a lot of shit to figure out in the

  next few weeks.

  “So what’s next on this crazy train of yours?” I asked with a smirk.

  She positively beamed.

  “Well, it’s a bit early, but I thought we could have lunch on the patio. Are you

  hungry?”

  I wasn’t really that hungry, but whatever. I’d be the good little puppy and follow.

  “Sure,” I said and allowed her to lead me out to the patio, Hank and Blondie hot

  on my heels.

  Our lunch had been placed on a small round bronze table for two at the far

 

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