Page 16 of Midnight Danger

I’d stopped seeing my therapist years ago, believing I’d buried the past. One gunshot was all it took to bring it all tumbling back to torment me. The memory of the metallic scent of blood sent bile burning up the back of my throat again that left me hunched over the toilet.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I kept all of Dad’s properties because it was my last link to the life I had before fate intervened and I ended up in the care system with a new name and a really bad haircut. I bought this small house a few years ago close to my old home. Every time I needed to be close to them, I stayed here for a few days and walked the perimeter of my old home, never daring to go in.

Dad’s business partner told me never to return, and never to let anyone know who I really was. The only person who did was Megan because I’d been young and scared in that home filled with bullies. She was the only one who gave a damn about me, climbing into my bed and holding me when I cried in my sleep.

I wanted to go home and sleep in my own bed, drink tea while watching the city lights, and fall asleep in Xavier’s arms because they were the only place I’d felt safe.

His words kept echoing in my head. Those men would have happily raped and murdered me. They would have tortured him. What was the etiquette toward those who would mutilate and murder you?

All I knew was that right now I was scared, alone, and miserable.

There was no WIFI in the house, if I needed to check anything on the internet I had to pop down to the library and use the community WIFI there. You never realised how much you needed access to the world wide web, even to download a new book on your Kindle.

The shock had upset my stomach and I could barely keep food down the past few days. My time off work was nearly up, and I needed to make a decision about what I was going to do. I had annual leave that I could take, but that was probably just postponing the inevitable.

Xavier had probably already moved on and returned to his previous life. He tended to avoid drama and had zero tolerance for anything that looked like it would drag him into it. It was the number one reason he sidestepped his father since he always wanted him to be a poster boy for the company.

Popping a ding dinner in the microwave, I propped my hip against the counter and stared out the window. It was times like this I craved my mum’s advice. We used to talk about my problems as she brushed my hair. Our very own mother-daughter therapy sessions. What would she make of Xavier and the men he associated with? Would she have tolerated a man like that around her children?

I knew so little about my parents, my memories of them fading around the edges as the years progressed. Sometimes I tried to envisage what Kimberley would look like now and if we’d still be close as we were as children. Their ghosts walked the streets of this small village, their memories haunting that house I wanted to visit with every fibre of my being.

It had been so long, surely no one was still looking for me? I’d visited their grave yesterday. It had four names on the gravestone, telling the world that all of us died in the crash that night. A family annihilated by one tragic accident. It was a miracle I survived, so the story was believable.

The ping of the microwave sounded in the background. I lifted out the unappetising plastic container full of food and put it on a plate. Needing contact with the outside world, I risked putting the battery in my phone. There were several text messages from Megan and one from Xavier, accompanied by a voicemail from Megan. I listened to it, my blood turning cold.

Why was Jordan visiting Megan? Was she safe? She didn’t seem worried about herself, just me. I sent her a quick text telling her I was fine and not to come down. My finger hovered over the reply button to Xavier, but my time was nearly up, and I pulled the battery before I gave in to temptation.

I could only stomach a few mouthfuls of dinner and decided to take a walk through the village. Everything was the same but different—the shops were the same, but the owners and the décor different. The gates to our driveway were rusted from the years of neglect, our family crest barely visible through the overgrown weeds.

Kimberley and I used to swing on those gates to Dad’s amusement and Mum’s displeasure. She called us monkeys and refused to allow us sweets from the tiny corner shop with massive bottles filled with every sweet imaginable.

Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head, I walked along the outside perimeter of the property. Once a year, someone came to ensure the structure of the house was sound and any repair work was carried out. Other than that, the only visitors were ghosts of the past.

No one can know you survived, Cassandra Jenkins is dead. You need to forget everything about your past and become someone new. The Council will never look for an orphan in the care system.

Dad’s partner never knew I put my passport and bank details into the bag with my toys and a change of clothes. Mum once told me that if anything happened to them, I was to take the bible from beside her bed and the documents she made me keep in mine. Inside the bible was a note with several keys to safety deposit boxes with house deeds, documents, jewellery, and money in them. I added to those deposit boxes every month from the day I received my first wage.

My family was already buried when I got out of hospital with a new name and all my hair cut off into a short bob. I saw Dad’s partner only once after I was taken into care. He asked me if I knew where Dad kept his keys. I shook my head and he left.

Sitting at the bus stop, I could see part of our old home. I gave in to temptation and turned my phone on.

Please, Cas, you need to come home. I miss you.

Xavier’s text stared up at me, breaking my heart all over again.

I miss you too, but I can’t survive in a world of pain and violence…I replied.

My phone bleeped immediately.

Come home. Nothing else matters but being with you.

A tear broke free and trickled down my cheek. This was the reason I should never have contacted him. He made me want what I could never have.

Please stop texting me and move on with your life.

My phone began to ring but I turned it off. If I heard his voice, I’d cave and go home to him. Loneliness was a terrible affliction, making you need something you knew was wrong for you.

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