There Is No Light in Darkness (3 page)

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Blue Eyes whispered. “I have to separate you. You’ll both be safer this way. Everything is okay now.”

He leaned in and grabbed Nathan, who let out a muffled scream, mimicking my own. Blue Eyes put Nathan over his shoulder and turned around. Nathan stopped screaming and turned up his head so that I could see him. I knew he was trying to be brave. My brave friend. My chest was heaving in sobs as I watched him get taken away from me. As I drowned in my tears, the other man started to speak.

“I’m sorry, little girl. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said in a broken voice. “I know you don’t understand this, but I’m truly sorry.”

I wished people would stop saying that to me.

Blue Eyes came back and closed the back door again before going to his seat. “I’m going to take you to a good home now, Baby Girl. You’ll be with your Aunt Shelley. She’s going to take real good care of you.”

I fell asleep crying, wondering where we left Nathan. I hoped he was back home with his family. The next time I woke up, I was lying in a bed, untied, and a woman with blond hair and kind blue eyes was watching me. I made her cry when I asked her where my mommy was.

“You’re mommy is an angel now, Doll,” Aunt Shelley said as tears swam in her blue eyes. “She’ll always be with you.”

“Do you know my mommy?” I asked quietly.

“I do. I know your mommy very well,” she replied hoarsely.

“Do you know where my daddy is?” I replied as I slumped my shoulders.

“No, baby, I don’t,” she said as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I asked her for my parents every day for months. One day I woke up with no hope and stopped asking.

Aunt Shelley tried to make me feel comfortable and never gave up on me. She started taking me to a therapist when I wouldn’t stop drawing pictures of women with blonde hair lying in red puddles. The therapist asked me a lot of questions, and one day Aunt Shelley stopped taking me. She homeschooled me until I was ten and she got diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a double mastectomy and survived the cancer but still enrolled me in the local elementary school, where some of my friends from dance classes went. The school gave her the option to let me skip a grade since I was advanced, but she decided against it. She said that adapting to school was a big enough deal and that I didn’t need middle school to be my first school experience.

When I was twelve, Aunt Shelley was diagnosed with lymphoma and was given four months to live. She never told me she was dying.

“I’m sick, Cupcake,” she said one night over dinner.

I frowned. “Sick how?”

“I have cancer,” she said in a wavering voice. I gasped. I knew a couple of kids in school that had family members die of cancer.

“Are you gonna die?” I ask quietly.

Tears filled her eyes. “God needs another angel to help him, but I don’t know when he’ll need me.”

She told me she loved me and I would be with people that would take care of me. She said her neighbor, Phoebe, would take me to a good lady named Maggie Parker. She asked me to promise her that I would behave, continue to study, and follow my dreams. I promised her everything. I would have given her the world if I could.

One night after dance class, I lay in bed with Aunt Shelley as she was hooked up to uncomfortable monitors. She squeezed me to her side and held me close. We had a live-in nurse with us, which led me to believe that things were going very bad. Aunt Shelley refused to stay in the hospital and leave me alone. As I lay with her and talked about math and science, she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her that I wanted to put bad guys in jail. She suggested I become a lawyer because I had guts or a police officer because I was selfless.

I looked at her with a smile on my face. “I love you, Aunt Shelley.”

Tears formed in her eyes, and I wished I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t know what came over me. I just had to say it though. It was the first time I’d ever told her that I loved her, not because I hadn’t always loved her, but I couldn’t say the words before then.

“I love you, too, Blakey,” she replied.

We fell asleep hand in hand. She passed away the next day. For the second time in my life, I felt alone, lost, and hurt. Thankfully, I only felt that way for a week—until I was taken to Maggie’s house. That was where I met the people that I considered my real family. The ones I adored, would die for, and kept me going. The same ones I would shut out in order to protect from getting hurt by me.

Chapter Three

Present

“So, did you have a nice weekend?” Cole asks, breaking the comfortable silence we had as I drive him to the airport.

I roll my eyes but can’t keep myself from smiling. “You were here all weekend; you should know that I did.”

“Did you like that I was here all weekend?” he asks as he jabs me in the ribs playfully.

I squeal and shimmy a little. “It was alright,” I say with a shrug.

His chuckle makes me grip the steering wheel a little tighter. When we get to the next red light, I turn my body to face him. Whatever I was thinking about bringing up vanishes when our eyes lock and I see a mix of sadness and longing in his eyes that reflect my own. Honking cars startle us out of our trance, and I clear my throat as I turn my body to continue driving. I park in front of O’Hare International Airport and watch as he gets down and opens the back seat. He puts on a navy sports jacket before reaching in for his bag. I turn in my seat to face forward when he closes the back door.

“I guess I’ll see you ... Thanks for coming,” I say quietly, looking straight ahead. I’ve always been horrible with goodbyes, and goodbyes with Cole aren’t my favorite thing in the world. I hear him sigh loudly and I tilt my head when I feel him get back in the car.

He leans in and my heart goes into overdrive when he picks up the hand I have resting on the gear. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “See you soon, baby,” he murmurs softly as he grazes the top of my hand with his lips, liquefying my insides.

I’m not sure how long I sit there staring at the door that Cole walked through before my brain starts functioning again. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and notice a little black velvet box on the passenger seat. My first thought is: Shit. He left something. My stomach turns at the size of the box. It could be a ring. Oh my God, is he going to propose? I can’t even think about that, but damn it, I’m reaching over and picking it up anyway. I don’t know why I love to torture myself like this. I clutch on to the little box with shaky hands before I take in a deep breath and open it. I let out the breath when I see a necklace with a silver skeleton key on it. It’s amazing. I don’t analyze it too much before I snap the box closed and toss it back on the passenger seat before driving home.

When I get home, I start sorting through the mail and find a letter from the Lewis, Smith, and Morris Law Firm. According to the letter, there are things that I need to take care of in Mark’s office. I can’t understand what else he could possibly have for me. When I turned eighteen, I inherited my Aunt Shelley’s estate, which made me $530,000 richer. I already had money that I’d gotten over the years when I was living in Maggie’s house. I used some of that money to get Aubry and me the apartment we’re currently renting. Before he got a decent job, Aubry helped pay the bills while I paid the rent. We now split the rent and utilities because Aubry said that he refused to be a charity case.

After reading the letter, I immediately call Cole and leave him a message asking if he’s received a similar letter. I also mention the damn box. Cole had a bank account set up for him by his dad when he was dropped off at Maggie’s house. According to Maggie, his father said that he could no longer watch him and begged her to keep him. He left her the bank account information to give to him when he turned eighteen. Cole hired a man to track down the money, hoping he’d find his dad, but he hit dead ends. I know his situation is different because—unlike Cole—I’ve always known why I have an inheritance and who it’s from. Still, there are a lot of things about my past that I don’t understand. I wonder if we will ever get the answers we want. I call the attorney’s office and request for Mark Lewis to be present when I go in, but an hour later I get a call to inform me that he’s going out of town.

As I’m opening the door for Aimee, my phone chirps in my hand. I look down and find a text message from Cole.

No letter, baby. Keep me posted. The box is yours.

I purse my lips before my mouth goes into a wide smile. I can feel Aimee’s eyes on me, but I’m too concentrated on my phone to pay attention to her right now.

It’s beautiful.

A second later I get his reply.

So are you ;)

The combination of his words and the little wink smiley face makes me smile like a teenager as I stuff my phone into my back pocket.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Aimee says when she sees me. We kiss on both cheeks, like the Europeans we aren’t, and make our way to the kitchen. She sits down on a barstool around the island that surrounds my stove.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Aimee as I pour her a glass of red wine. I always ask if people are hungry as if their answer is going to deter me from wining and dining them. I got my love for cooking from Maggie. She’s a much better cook than I am, but I try to stay on her level regardless. My favorite part about cooking is drinking red wine while I do it.

“You know I’ll eat anything you make as long as you keep pouring that wine,” Aimee replies with a sly smile. “So ... anything new you want to tell me about?” she asks with a raised eyebrow as she eyes the shorts I’m wearing.

“Not really. It was just Cole being Cole.”

She shakes her head. “I have got to meet that guy soon.”

I laugh lightly. “Oh, before I forget, by any chance, do you know if Mark will be in town this week?” I ask nonchalantly.

“Hmm ... He should be. I heard my dad talking about a big trial coming up next week. He probably has a lot to do to prepare for it. Why?”

“Just wondering. I have to go by there this week, and I wanted to meet him. So I figured if he was here, maybe I’d request to see him.”

“I still don’t understand why he would be your attorney. I think you must be mistaken. He doesn’t practice estate; he only takes on criminal cases. The one who dabbles in estate law is Morris. You should speak to Russell about it.”

I don’t know why Shelley took her business to Mark, but I know that I’m not mistaken. He’s the one that signs off on everything. I’m only allowed to meet with Mark’s assistant, Veronica Stein, about my estate. I know this because I have asked to meet with Daniel Morris in the past and my attorney has stepped in and declined the request. I asked Daniel about it one day when Russell took me to his house for dinner, and he said that Mark liked to deal with his clients personally. I didn’t mention to him that I’d never even seen Mark in person.

“You’re probably right. I’ll ask Russell,” I reply quietly as I serve our angel-hair pasta with vodka sauce. As we eat sitting around the dining room table, we discuss the usual—school, fashion, and boys. Aimee has had a crush on Aubry since they met last year, but Aubry had a girlfriend.

“So Aubry and that Haley girl finally broke up,” she says, smiling over her wine glass.

I stare at her for a moment. “Is that why you came over looking like you were going on a hot date?”

She gasps and puts her hand over her heart. “Blake Brennan! I would never!”

We both break out in a fit of laughter before we continue eating.

“Aimee, I love Aubry like a brother. Hell, that’s what he is to me—a brother. He’s an amazing guy, but he always goes for the bad girls. You know the ones who step all over his heart just for fun. Well, yeah, that’s what Haley did to him. He’s taking the break up better than I expected, but still. I just don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

Aubry is a hopeless romantic, but it’s as if he enjoys getting hurt. I wish Aubry and Aimee would get together though. Aubry needs someone stable in his life. They would make an adorable couple, too. I just don’t think Aimee is crazy enough for Aubry.

Aimee leans into the table and places her hand on mine. “I know, Blake. I get that, but I really like him. He’s funny, and he’s sweet. Just don’t worry about him ... or me,” she adds in a soft voice. I search her face for a while before nodding slightly.

I don’t know if it’s a wine or food coma that I’m slowly seeping into as I sit here pretending to listen to Aimee ramble about God knows what. My eyes are locked on her fingers drumming against the table, and the strangest feeling washes over me. I’m still lost in the familiarity of the drumming fingers when Aubry comes in and interrupts my train of thought.

“Hey, Aimee. Blakey,” Aubry says, smiling. “Is there any food leftover? I’m starving.”

“Do you even have to ask?” I smirk. “You know I won’t let you starve. Aimee, is it okay if I leave you with Aubry for a little while? I’m not feeling so good. I think I may have over done it with the wine,” I say as I get up to clear the plates. It sounds like a lame excuse, and I hope neither of them calls me out on it.