What's Done in Darkness (3 page)

“So, Wesley is an insensitive ass and I'm better off without him?” I said, facing Michelle. “Was this your grand plan—to move in on my man?”

Michelle stepped toward me, both hands up in a sign of surrender. “It's not what you think.”

I slapped her across the face, sending her flying backward on the lawn. I heard Wesley's parents gasp—two people who had said that they loved me like a daughter. If only for their sakes, I should have tried to keep my cool.

But what was done was done, and I felt great.

Instantly Wesley went to Michelle, who was crying. He helped her up from the grass before turning his attention to me. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Have you?” I countered. “You're screwing my best friend!”

“Oh dear God,” Wesley's mother uttered. I could see her look of disdain from my peripheral vision, hear the embarrassment in her voice. She was a churchgoing woman who had grown up in Barbados, and she'd always hated public displays of emotion—amorous or otherwise.

Wesley helped Michelle to her feet, then stepped toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You need to calm down.”

“Don't touch me!” I yelled. I violently wriggled from his touch. “Last night, you told me you needed space, that you didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone right now. And now here you are, with Michelle?”

Michelle was sobbing and clutching her cheek, perhaps hamming it up for effect. And her act was having the desired result. Because Wesley turned from me abruptly and took Michelle into his arms, offering her comfort.

“That's right, bitch. Cry your crocodile tears. That's the only way you can get a man.”

“For God's sake, Jade,” Wesley's father said. He was tall, blond, and, at fifty, still lean. Wesley had definitely gotten his height from his dad.

I whimpered, feeling a pang of regret as I looked at him.

“This is graduation day,” Mr. Morrison went on. He gestured to the crowd at large. “You're embarrassing yourself.”

“Do you know what your son has done to me?” I challenged. “What he's had me do for him?”

“That's enough,” Wesley said, his tone a warning.

“You think he's perfect,” I said, addressing both of his parents now. “He's not. He's far from it.”

Wesley glared at me. “Jade,
stop
.”

“Why? You don't want your parents to know the truth about your life?”

“She's off her fucking pills,” someone in the gathering crowd said, and I whipped my gaze in that direction. I saw people snickering, their eyes wide with amusement.

The laughter, the comment … suddenly I could see myself from a different vantage point. As if I were a spectator in the crowd.

I was becoming unhinged.

I didn't like it.

Wesley's mother took tentative steps toward me, as if she feared I would slap her, too. “Oh, sweetheart. We know this year hasn't been easy for you. Which is why we told you that you could call us at any time. Any time at all.”

“That's not what this is about,” I said, but my voice faltered. “This is about Wesley sleeping with my best friend!”

The buzzing among the crowd was louder now, people openly giggling as though I were a circus act.

“Jade, do you hear yourself?” Wesley asked, angry. “And you don't see why I need a break from you?”

“You owe me,” I said, wanting to say more but knowing that I couldn't. Oh, I wanted to. But if I told his parents and the world what he'd had me do for him, he would never forgive me. I would never get him back.

A tear spilled onto my cheek. Didn't he see how I was hurting? And yet it was Michelle he was cradling.

I couldn't stomach it anymore. I moved toward them, grabbing at his arms, clawing at them with one hand while I tried to wrench Michelle free from his grasp with the other hand.

Michelle wailed, and Wesley's father got into the mix. He grabbed ahold of my arms from behind, allowing Wesley the time to whisk Michelle away.

“How could you do this?” Mrs. Morrison was asking, tears brimming in her eyes. “Embarrass us like this, yourself? How could you?”

The Morrisons hated me. People were laughing at me. I spun around and took off, running with shaky legs across the grass. The lawn sloped toward the street, and I almost tumbled in my haste to get to my car.

I was angry. I was sad.

I was lost.

My tears blurred my vision, but as I got to my car I threw a look over my shoulder in Wesley's direction once more. Michelle was still in his arms, Wesley's parents and friends fussing over both of them while some looked in my direction.

I brushed at the tears stinging my eyes, then got into my car and slammed the door. The moment I turned on the accelerator, I hit the gas, pulling into traffic carelessly, forcing myself into the lane in front of a car that was far too close to me.

The driver blared the horn. I stuck my hand out the window and gave the driver the middle finger. Sure, I was at fault, but I didn't care. I was in crisis mode.

I drove at a faster clip than allowed for the speed zone, zipping in and out of traffic until I got to the entrance for the 33 expressway. I had no clue where I was going, and it wasn't exactly like I cared. Part of me wanted to head to the I-90 and drive west to Erie, Pennsylvania, and home and never look back at the University at Buffalo. At that moment, I didn't particularly care about the fact that I still had a dorm room filled with my belongings.

I drove, the tears coming harder, as I reflected on the mess that was my life. Why were kids always fed a ton of bull when it came to college?
Best years of your life. Study hard, and the world and your dreams await you. Experience true love.

There was one important thing that had been left off of the bullshit brochure. No one told you how your life was going to be ripped apart when you watched your boyfriend graduate without you. Because that boyfriend suddenly realized that since he was going to head clear across the country to begin his career, he didn't want to hold you back. He was selflessly breaking up with you for
you
.

“Asshole!” I yelled, and hit the gas. I had been prepared to wait for him, to plan my own career in Seattle once I graduated next year. Or I could even transfer colleges now.

But no, Wesley didn't want to hold me back. He figured the test of the strength of our relationship would come from a year apart. Which was really his way of breaking up with me because he wanted to see other people.

People like Michelle. I wasn't stupid.

My eyes were swimming with tears when I switched lanes. And again I got a blaring horn.

“Screw off!” I yelled, craning my neck to look at who had hit the horn so I could flash them a dirty look. I wasn't in the mood.

When I turned back to the road in front of me, I had no time to react. I was straddling two lanes. The barrier between the exit for Oak Street and the lane that continued on the expressway loomed before me, moving toward me at a rapid pace.

“Shit!” I uttered, and jerked the car to the left to correct my position.

But I jerked the car too hard. Because it swerved and spun. And then it crashed.

The air bag exploded in my face.

And then everything went black.

 

CHAPTER THREE

My eyelids fluttered as I slowly came awake. A strange sensation of disorientation hit me like a ton of bricks. As I tried to fully open my eyes, pain pierced my head. I raised my hand to bring it to my forehead, only to find it constricted.

My eyes popped open, and the disorientation intensified. That's when I saw my sister, Marie, sitting beside me. A look of concern mixed with disapproval marred her pretty features.

“Mar—” My voice croaked, and I stopped.

“You crashed your car,” she said, her words sounding like an accusation.

“I—I did?”

“You don't remember?”

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes as I stared at Marie. She was wearing her nurse scrubs, which led me to believe she'd been by my side. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, the way she wore it at work. She had flawless skin the color of hot chocolate, and with her hair pulled back and no makeup she normally looked like a teenager.

But not today. She looked like she had aged two decades.

I could hear the constant beep of a machine beside my bed. I was in a hospital. The curtain drawn around my bed told me that, as surely as the IV I noticed in my hand.

“Are we in Erie?” That was where my sister lived and worked. Where I lived when I wasn't at school.

“Erie?” She scoffed. “No, you made sure to crash your car on the 33 expressway in Buffalo. Heading west. Were you planning to head home—or were you just being reckless?”

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to recall what had happened. The 33 expressway. Yes. It was coming back to me. Driving. Being angry. Losing control.

Wesley.

I was hurt. I was in the hospital. So why did my sister seem pissed off instead of relieved?

“Why are you angry?” I asked, my voice weak. “If I was in an accident, I could be dead right now.”

“Accident, right.” Marie snorted. “I heard the witness accounts from the police. Jade, you're out of control. Losing it.”

“Huh?”

“Witnesses said you were all over the place. Driving like an enraged maniac. What were you doing—
trying
to kill yourself?” She held my eyes, giving me a pointed look.

“No,” I said. “Of course not. How could you ask me that?”

My sister simply tightened her lips and shook her head.

I angled my head away from her toward the window where sunlight spilled into the room, pain slicing through my head as I did so. I knew what she was thinking. Why she had asked the question—one that hadn't been rhetorical. I also knew why she didn't seem to believe my answer. Just over a year ago, when our stepfather died of cancer, I had unraveled. With him being our only caregiver after our mother died fifteen years earlier, I hadn't known how to cope with my grief. And in that state of devastation, I'd done something incredibly stupid. I'd taken a handful of sleeping pills.

But it wasn't like I'd
wanted
to die. Because after I took all those pills, I was smart enough to call my boyfriend and tell him what I'd done. I'd been rushed to the hospital, my stomach pumped, and in the end I'd been fine.

Physically anyway. But I hadn't been able to function, so I had taken a semester off of school to try to emotionally recover. Which was why I didn't graduate with the rest of my class.

“You know I love you,” Marie said, and sighed wearily. “I'm just … afraid for you. This thing with Wesley—”

“It's not a
thing
. It's a relationship.”

“And life goes on. He said he wanted to take a break. In a year if you still love each other, then you'll know you have the real deal. Trying to kill yourself—”

“I did
not
try to kill myself.”

“No?” my sister challenged me. “Wesley told me he saw you getting into your car, that you tore off like a madwoman.”

“Wesley…” His name escaped my lips on a ragged breath. “You—you talked to him?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

Marie didn't answer, and the expression on her face said that she didn't want to tell me.

“Where?” I demanded.

“Look how you're already getting yourself worked up. This isn't good for you. Isn't healthy.”

He had watched me get into my car. Such a small, insignificant thing—but it made me feel better. He hadn't been as wrapped up in Michelle as I'd believed.

“So he knows I'm here?”

Marie nodded. “He said for me to call him once you woke up.”

I felt a flutter of hope in my heart. Which was crazy, I knew. But maybe knowing I'd been in an accident had given Wesley a different perspective. Maybe he'd changed his mind about us.

It was hope, and I was going to hang on to it.

*   *   *

Later that day, when Wesley stepped into my hospital room, my heart perked up immensely. Forgotten were his words about wanting to take a break, and the racy text from Michelle. All I could think when I saw him was that we were going to pick up where we'd left off. That everything between us would be fine again.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied softly, my physical pain all but gone.

Wesley fingered the bandage on my forehead, then the one on my cheek. “Damn it, Jade. What happened?”

I'd suffered one hell of a night, but now that Wesley was here it was all better. “Lost control in the car,” I told him, trying to force a smile to lighten the seriousness of the situation. All things considered, I was very lucky to be alive and have escaped with only some lacerations and a mild concussion. “Idiot, I know. I looked away for a second, and next thing I know, I'm plowing into that big orange barrier they put near the exits. Thank God for the air bag. I hear it saved my life.”

Wesley shook his head in dismay. Then he took my hand in his.

And I swear, I almost cried from happiness. The accident had almost been worth it, just for this moment.

He continued to hold my hand as he folded his six-foot-one, muscular frame into the chair beside my bed. There were worry lines etched on his handsome face, but all I could think about was how gorgeous he was. He was just so sexy.…

“Seeing you here like this…” His voice trailed off.

“You were worried about me?” I asked him.

“Of course I was worried. When I saw you tear off like you did—” Wesley abruptly stopped, his expression changing. In his eyes, I could see that he was thinking.

“Wait a second,” he said. “You didn't … you didn't
do this on purpose
?”

“No,” I replied quickly. And I was disappointed that he'd even asked.