Super Dark (Super Dark Trilogy) (31 page)

“I suppose you’ve got a point.” For a second, I cast my mind back to that time at the Winchester when he’d paid the bill in fifties. I had thought that was a little odd. And then there was his expensive apartment and car …

“All I know is, there’s definitely something fishy going on, and I mean to get to the bottom of it.”

I swallowed painfully, preparing for the worst. “So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I need you to start being truthful with me. I’m not a fool, Sam. I know there’s a hell of a lot you haven’t told me about Elliot. For a start, I don’t believe that you only met him last Sunday. You’ve known about this longer than you’re letting on. Which is fine, because right now, that’s not my main concern.”

“But Neil, I wanted to …”

“Let me finish!” His voice cracked with fury. “All I want you to tell me is this: has Elliot ever said anything to you about where he’s been? Who’s been holding him? Why he refuses to involve the police? And please don’t lie to me. This is important, Sam—so no games, please.”

“I swear to you, cross my heart, hope to die, I don’t know any more than you do. He refuses to discuss it with me.”

“This is really frustrating,” Neil fumed. “I never dreamed it would be this way. I spent so many years wanting my son back, and now that he’s here … well; it’s not how I thought it would be. It’s like living with a stranger. Obviously, I’m over the moon that he’s alive. I know he’s my son—but he’s changed so much. When I look in his face, he’s not the same boy I remember. I just don’t understand how a person can change that much …” His voice trailed off.

“Neil, are you still there?” I could hear quiet sobbing down the line and my heart broke for him. “Please don’t cry. Please, you’re gonna make me start.”

“Why won’t he tell me, Sam? Why won’t Elliot tell me who those bastards are? Those creatures who destroyed our lives … they must be punished. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything but revenge. If I could only get my hands on them, I’d kill them. I swear to God, I’d kill them.”

“Please, you’ve got to stop talking like this, for Elliot’s sake. I know how hard this must be, but can’t you just focus on the fact that your son’s alive? He must have been through so much, and he probably finds it difficult to talk about what happened. Give him some time, and I’m sure he’ll open up to you.”

“Time is a luxury we don’t have,” Neil bellowed. “Elliot must tell us who abducted him before it’s too late—before they do it again to someone else’s child. As long as they’re free to roam, no family is safe. Don’t you see? We can’t let this go. He must tell the police everything he knows so that we can bring these monsters to justice.”

“I don’t know what to say.” My throat had gone dry. “I wish I could help, but what can I do? He won’t talk to me, either.”

“Well, you can start by trying to get the truth out of him tomorrow,” Neil said icily. “I know he’s meeting you after school. See if you can coax some information out of him.”

“What makes you think he’ll talk to me?” I asked.

“Because he seems closer to you. I think he might be more likely to talk if it’s coming from you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll try, but please don’t get your hopes up.”

“That’s my girl.”

I hung up. The energy evaporated from my body and I collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

***

The next evening at precisely ten past five, I headed to our usual meeting spot outside the school gates. It was very cold and crisp, but for once, there were no storm clouds on the horizon. I’d spent the whole day fretting, lost in a frenzy of anticipation at the thought of seeing Elliot again.

I went through each class in a subdued state, pretending to listen to what people were saying. Becky had finally caught up with me at lunch, but I’d managed to pacify her with the same story I’d told Frasier: that nothing had happened between me and Lee and that I’d gone straight home after the club. Thankfully, Frasier had kept his promise and not rat on me.

Becky had seemed a little suspicious at first. Eventually, I had to ask her to stop grilling me.

“Okay, no more questions—on one condition,” she said. “I want you to come with me to a party at Taffin Carter’s place on Saturday.”

“It’s a deal,” I said, although I had absolutely no intention of going. I planned to think up a suitable excuse as the weekend got closer.

A beeping car horn snapped me from my reverie. Turning my head, I spied Elliot’s Lotus backing into a parking space across the street. A tingle of fear shivered down my spine. Cautiously, I crossed the road and jumped in the passenger side.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“Great. Oh wow …” My mouth hung open. Elliot looked so gorgeous, I was literally drooling. He’d finally ditched the cap and bleached his hair a luxurious, honey-blond color with peroxide streaks throughout. The sides were trimmed slightly shorter than before, with the fringe artfully combed across one eye. His tan skin glowed with health and contrasted beautifully with his startlingly blue eyes, giving him an almost ethereal appearance.

I lowered my lashes, trying desperately to keep my thoughts pure.
Looking this hot shouldn’t be legal.

“How do you like it?” Elliot asked, grinning as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Mum took me to the hairdresser today and insisted I get it colored. She hated my hair dark. Said she wanted it lighter so she could have her little boy back.”

“Well, I think it looks fantastic,” I said.

“Better than the brown?”

“Definitely. Although, to be honest, everything looks good on you.” I stopped short, realizing I’d paid him an inadvertent compliment.

Damn
.

He smiled magnanimously. “Thanks.”

He snapped the heater on high and pulled out into traffic, heading in the direction of Elmfield Park. “So, how was school today?”

“Oh, it was okay. Nothing special.”

“How’s Frasier?”

“He’s good. Really good. But enough of that. How are you? How’s everything going with your parents?”

“Not too great,” he admitted.

“That bad?”

“Yep. Mum’s been fantastic. She accepts me as I am. But I think Dad’s having trouble adjusting. He still can’t accept that I don’t want to talk about the past, and it’s eating him up. I wish he’d just get off my case. I can’t deal with any more stress right now.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, thinking of the promise I’d made to Neil. The idea of coaxing information out of Elliot seemed more unlikely by the second.

Slumping against the window, I breathed slowly in and out through my mouth, closing my eyes, trying to blot out how delectable he looked. It felt so wrong to have such carnal thoughts about him when there was so much at stake. But try as I might, I couldn’t deny my body
. My body wants him.
Bad.

“What’s wrong?” Elliot asked, shooting me a sideways glance. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’ve got a headache.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “Do you want aspirin? There’s a packet in the glove compartment.”

“No, I’ll be fine. I just get a little travel sick sometimes.”

“Poor baby. Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

I didn’t say much for the rest of the journey.

When we got back to his place, I saw what Neil meant. Someone had been doing some serious shopping. Boxes of new shoes were scattered all over the living room floor, and there were at least seven new X-box games stacked up by the TV.

“Looks like you’ve been stocking up,” I commented.

“Yeah, I took Mum to West End earlier.”

I hesitated, wanting to probe further, but the words died on my tongue.

“Oh, by the way, I got you something.” He went over to a cabinet near the TV. “Remember these?” he grinned, flashing a set of colorful trading cards at me.

I snatched one from him and saw it was a special edition X-Men Fleer Ultra trading card. We’d obsessively hoarded them as kids, but had never quite managed to complete the collection.

“Wow! These are so cool,” I exclaimed.

“It’s the whole collection,” he declared proudly. “Every single last card in the series.”

My eyes grew misty as I realized how much thought he’d put into this. Slowly, I examined each card in turn—so beautifully crafted and perfectly formed—and I felt a burst of joy.
How sweet of him.
“Where did you find them?” I asked.

“A little comic shop in Notting Hill.”

“Thank you,” I said in a small voice. “These are amazing. I always wanted the whole set.”

“I know. That’s why I got them for you.”

“It’s so lovely that you remembered.”

For a moment, he stared at me, his face placid and unreadable. Then he walked over and sat on the sofa. “That’s not all. That wasn’t your main present. I also bought you something else.”

“Oh Elliot, you shouldn’t have!”

“Why don’t you come over here and let me show you?” He patted the cushion next to him.

Clenching my fists, I obeyed, perching on the far end of the sofa to keep a respectable distance between us. I avoided his gaze, but I knew his eyes were on me, studying, drinking me in. “Sam …” He spoke my name so quietly I could barely hear him. “Why are you sitting so far away? Come closer. I want to give you your present.”

Brushing the hair out my face, I reluctantly sidled up to him, my limbs heavy with embarrassment. Knowing the kind of thoughts circulating in my head, being this close to him surely wasn’t a good idea.

Flashing a playful smile, Elliot reached inside his pocket, took out a small blue box and handed it to me. Gingerly, I opened it and saw a gorgeous topaz pendant encased in silver.

“Gosh, this is beautiful,” I gasped.

“Turn it over. There’s an inscription on the back.”

Carefully, I flipped it over in my palm and squinted at the fancy writing.

Dear Sam,

True friendship is hard to find

You’ll always be one of a kind

Yours forever,

Elliot

I cupped one hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying. “Thank you. This is the most beautiful present anyone’s ever given me.”

“Here, let me put it on for you,” he whispered.

I felt light-headed as he took the pendant from me and gently fastened it around my neck. At his touch, I expelled a low whimper, eyes closed in rapture. His fingers burned into my skin, infusing me with a deep sense of relief, as if I’d been in pain my whole life and had just been healed.

Slowly opening my eyes again, I gazed lovingly down at the pendant and smiled. “Thank you. I absolutely adore it.”

“I knew you would.” Elliot leaned back and rested his arm behind my head.

I flinched.

Light rain hit the window, a rhythmic soundtrack to our conversation.

I stared blankly ahead, goose bumps sprouting up my back like bubble wrap. I had to concentrate on my breathing to help keep me sane. In and out, in and out.
Five, four, three, two, one.

“Do you remember when we were kids? We used to hate the rain,” he mused, breaking the silence.

“I know, because it meant we couldn’t go out and play,” I said.

He chuckled. “Remember how we used to sneak into old Mr. Barnes’ garden and steal his apples?”

“Yeah, that was funny,” I smiled. “Remember how high that wall was? God, it was a nightmare to climb. We must have been crazy.”

“Probably. Remember that one time we climbed over and you fell in those nettles? That was bad. Your thighs were all cut up. And then that pit-bull terrier chased us …”

“Please, don’t remind me!” I groaned. “My legs were sore for weeks.”

“Yeah, but we still went back the next day. And the next. We never stopped going back.”

“I know, we must have been crazy! I don’t know why we put ourselves through all that torment just for apples.”

“Because the fruit always tastes sweeter when you’ve gone through such pain to get it.” He leaned in closer, his breath disturbing the hairs on my neck. “Sometimes a person can want something so badly their skin burns, their whole body aches with longing, and they’re willing to do just about anything to get it. Struggle and denial are part of human nature—but the rewards are so worth it.”

I didn’t respond. His words had stripped my thoughts bare and temporarily robbed me of speech. Sighing deeply, I snuggled my face against his chest, relishing the firm contours of his muscles through his T-shirt. I wanted to tear his clothes off. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to …

He stood up abruptly and strode to the other side of the room, shaking his head in frustration. He seemed suddenly vulnerable, edgy, pacing the floor like a lion with a thorn stuck in its paw.

I bit my lip.
What the hell was this guy’s problem?

“Did I say something to offend you?” I asked. “Why are you acting so funny?”

“I’m not acting funny,” he growled, his voice adopting a dark edge that sent chills through me. “I’m absolutely fine.” Then, checking himself, he smiled: “Are you hungry? Do you want me to fix you something to eat?”