There Is No Light in Darkness (16 page)

“I don’t know, Blake, but I’m going to find out,” he said, determined.

We finished eating and lay down close to each other. Cole was supposed to leave for North Carolina soon, and I was leaving for Chicago. We hadn’t spoken about the elephant in the room in a long time, and I felt like we needed to address it soon.

“Cole,” I whispered. “You know that I ... really, really care about you. More than I care about anybody else in the world, right?”

“I know, baby. I love you, too,” he said sleepily while he stroked my hair.

“Well, because of that, I think maybe we should take a break,” I whispered in a rushed voice before I had the chance to back down like the coward that I was when I was around him.

“Baby, not this again,” he groaned as he sat up.

“Yes, this again. I’m not kidding, Cole. I’m already sick with jealousy, and you know I don’t do jealous!”

“Blake, I’m sorry about the Sasha thing. She was being stupid, and I acted like an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her stand so close to me. I shouldn’t have spoken to her at all. She was telling me about a couple of friends of hers that are going to my school, that’s all.”

I felt my jaw clench. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Sasha’s friends are going to college with you. She’ll probably go over there at least once to try to screw you, and I have to be in Chicago—hundreds of miles away—thinking about whether or not that’s going to happen.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Blake, I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Cole, it doesn’t matter what you say. Don’t you get it? I’m scared. I’m freaking scared to lose you, and I don’t want to lose you like that,” I said, blinking back tears. “I can’t stand the thought of you with another girl. I hate that you’re so good looking. If you were ugly, we might not be in this situation.”

He barked out a laugh. “Blake, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re sexy as hell, you’re smart, and you’re funny. Life has handed you shit cards, and you’ve still managed to make the best of it. You are all I want. You are all I need. When will you accept that?”

I shook my head slowly. “That’s not enough right now. Just go to college and have fun. I don’t want to hold you back from a college experience. I ... care about you too much. If we’re meant to be together, we will be—later on in the future.”

He got up and knocked over our empty cans. I watched as he angrily put our things in the basket. He was pissed—really pissed, so I stayed quiet and got up slowly to help. He didn’t say a word to me as he lit two lanterns and handed one over to me, so that we could walk back to the car. We drove back home in heavy silence. The kind of silence that you didn’t want to break—because you knew that if you did, it would turn into a screaming match. Cole went to the kitchen to put things away as I hovered around silently watching.

Finally, I headed upstairs. I heard his loud footsteps behind me, and turned to enter my room when he grabbed my arm to stop me.

“My room,” he ordered in a low voice, and I could only nod and follow.

He closed the door behind us, and he held me from behind, crushing my back to his chest as he squeezed his arms tightly around me.

“Why are you so adamant about getting rid of me?” he whispered into my hair. “I fucking love you. I care about you. I want to take care of you. Let me.”

I shook my head as new tears formed in my eyes. I’m scared. I love you. I’m scared of losing you for real. I can’t be with you if I can’t see you. I’m stupid. I don’t deserve you. I didn’t say any of this.

“I can’t,” I said brokenly. “I want to, but I can’t. I want you to live.”

He turned my body to face him and scooped my face in his hands, wiping the tears with his thumbs.

“I’ll live happier with you, baby,” he said softly.

“And I’ll live happier knowing you’re living—even if it’s without me,” I replied quietly, dropping my gaze from his before looking back.

He nodded.

It was over.

The pain in his eyes was so potent that I could feel it reaching into my heart and shredding it with its long vicious claws. That night he made sure to show me that I belonged to him—repeatedly. His kisses and caresses would be forever embedded in my brain. He made sure that no man would ever live up to him. In the end, he hurt me more than I hurt him. I broke his heart, but he tore mine into a million pieces. Even if I wanted to piece it back together, I would never find them all because he would always be holding some.

Chapter Twelve

Present

I arrive at Amalgamated Bank and stand stock still by the front door for a couple of minutes. The bank has an old eerie feel to it, and most of the people in here are older men dressed in suits. I am hesitant to continue in, but the security guard at the front glares at me, and I know I have to move. I stand in line, shifting from one foot to the other as I wait to write my name down on the list. The tellers are to my right behind a tall desk. This place is giving me the creeps. I’m half expecting for someone to pull out a machine gun and yell, “Manolo, shoot that piece of shit.” Scarface style. I continue to look around while fidgeting my hands until I finally wrangle them together tightly, creating my own bondage. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but it doesn’t help. I’m so scared to take my eyes away from my surroundings that I don’t even want to dig in my purse to take out my phone and text somebody to keep me false company. When I finally make it to the sign-in sheet, I jot down my name and make my way over to the waiting area.

I sit down and look at the old men—or older men, I should say. They all look like somebody pissed in their coffee this morning. I spot a group of them circling around an older gentleman with white hair, who is making his way toward the exit that is located behind me. He’s wearing a sharp navy suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie. He has charcoal eyes that compliment his salt and pepper hair. I smile at the sight of him even though he’s not looking at me. He seems like a kind man, but I can tell he’s influential. I purse my lips and wonder what he does for a living. He catches me staring and scrunches his eyebrows together as if he’s trying to figure out where he knows me from. I’m kind of doing the same to him even though I couldn’t possibly know him. Our eyes stay focused on each other until a woman touches my shoulder and asks me if I’m Blake. I break eye contact with the old man, who’s still frozen in place, to nod at the banker before getting up to follow her.

“Miss Brennan, did you bring your key and identification?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Good. My name is Alicia. I’ll help you access your box, and then I’ll step outside and give you some privacy. You just have to press this red button, and I’ll come right in if you need any help.”

I thank her and step aside so she can show me to the box. The room is filled with big and little boxes. If it weren’t for the adorned circular gold door, I would have confused this for a nicer-looking post office.

I take a deep breath as she pulls the drawer out of the wall and places it on the large marble table in the center of the room. She excuses herself and exits, leaving me alone in my nightmare. I take a couple of deep breaths to ease the tensing in my stomach as I step closer to the table. My heart is pounding so loudly that it’s the only noise filling my ears. I circle the table once and stop directly in front of the drawer.

“Here goes nothing,” I mumble to myself.

Sitting in the drawer are three large yellow manila envelopes. I take the first one out; it’s heavy and fat. I open it slowly—scared of what I might find. I thought I was prepared. I thought I could do this, but when I find myself looking at a picture of myself as a baby, my hands start to shake uncontrollably. As I gather the manila envelopes in my hands, I notice a standard-size envelope with my name on it is taped to one of them. I tear it open and sigh in relief when I recognize Shelley’s handwriting.

Blake,

In these envelopes you will find photos of your childhood. There are some from when you were still with your parents before you lived with me, and there are some with me. I’m sure you’re questioning whether or not you want these. I’m sure it will hurt to look at them, but please take them home with you. Try to keep them even if you lock them away in a box. You don’t have to look at them. Maybe someday you will have children of your own, and you might want to show these to them. Someday you will know the truth, and your heart might hurt less. At least, I hope it will.

I love you, Doll.

Love,

Shelley

I smile weakly at the nickname she used for me when I was little. I take another deep breath, inhaling the smell of Pine-Sol that surrounds the room, and decide to take them home with me. I can’t look through them now. Shelley’s right—it hurts too much. It only brings back memories of that night. I press the red button, and Alicia comes sauntering back in, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor.

“Are you all finished?” she asks sweetly.

“Yes, I’m just going to take the contents with me if that’s alright,” I reply.

“Of course. You will always have this box here. If you’d like to bring anything back, you may,” she says.

I wrinkle my forehead in thought.

“Can you tell me whose name this box is under?” I ask curiously.

She blinks rapidly. “I ... I’m not allowed to say. Your name appears in the paperwork though.”

I frown. “If I guess the name, will you tell me if I’m right?”

“I’m not really allowed,” she says and then adds quietly, “but you can try.”

I smile at her, and she smiles back gently. “Shelley?”

She shakes her head slowly and gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’m here if you need me, Miss Brennan.”

I shake her hand, thank her, and leave the bank with some pieces of my life in my hands.

On my way home, I send Cole a text message to tell him that I miss him—because I do. I desperately want him next to me when I open these envelopes, but I also want to keep him as far away as I possibly can. I’m not going to tell him about it yet. I think I’ll give myself some time to stew over it. I know if I tell him or Aubry, they’ll open these for me. I get home, throw my keys on the kitchen counter, and notice that Aubry’s not home yet.

I go to my room, lock my door, and check the messages on the machine. The first message is from Veronica Stein at Mark’s office, asking me to call back. The second is from a rough-sounding man, saying he needs to speak to me about a plot of land. I’m both shocked and nervous when I hear this message. They have my address and my home phone number? Who are these people? I make a mental note to call Veronica on my way to work tomorrow. I need to figure out how to remove my personal information from these properties.

As I make myself a grilled cheese sandwich, I pick up a note that Aubry left me. It reads Went to pick up Aimee. Be back later. Remember—movie night. I remember his telling me that he was bringing her over to watch a movie. As I eat, I idly wonder which one they’ll choose. When I’m done eating, I pour myself a glass of red wine, turn the alarm on, and go back to my room.

I’m lathering my hair, totally relaxed from the wine I just had, when I hear my alarm go off. I hold my breath, trying—and failing—not to panic. The alarm always beeps ten counts before it goes off. If you know the code, you should be able to turn it off by then. Who the hell is in my house? My hands are shaking as I turn off the water. My eyes dart to the bathroom door. Locked, thank God. I climb out of the shower, dry myself quickly, and put on my clothes as fast as I can. I grab my cell phone from the counter and hear my house phone ring. My heart is beating so damn loud that I’m surprised I can even make out the words that the person from the alarm company is saying. I jump when my cell phone vibrates in my hand. It’s Henry, the door man.

“Hello?” I say in a hushed tone as I hold one shaky hand over my throat.

“Blake, is everything alright?” he asks concerned.

“I don’t know. I’m locked in the bathroom.”

Henry is an older gentleman, a grandfather type. He’s always looking out for us. When we first moved in, we bonded over baseball. When we got our alarm system installed, Aubry made a joke about it to Henry. Instead of making fun of me, Henry said I was a smart girl.

“I’ll send Sean right up,” he says.

Sean is a doorman in training. He’s much younger than Henry, but he seems nice and on point.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “The alarm company is calling me on the other line.”

I click over and tell the patient lady that I’m in the bathroom. She says she’s going to send the police. I don’t tell her it isn’t necessary because, truthfully, I’m not sure and I would feel safer with them here.

Even after the alarm lady shuts the alarm off so that I won’t have to, and lets me hang up with her, I continue to look at my phone every two seconds. I wonder if I should call Cole. No. I can’t do that. He’ll flip out. Maybe I should call Aubry and ask him to stay where he is just in case. Oh my God, I’m freaking the fuck out. I wonder if anybody is still in here. I wonder what they want. I wonder who it could be. I’m sitting on the toilet, and the only noise I hear is the lid rattling under me from my shaking leg. Twenty minutes go by, and I’m still locked in my bathroom, clutching on to my phone and biting on my finger nail. I’m sure Sean is outside, but he hasn’t banged on my bedroom door. I finally call Aubry and tell him what’s going on.