Page 19 of In the Light of Day

“I’d like to go see them before I decide on what happens ... what happens to the ...”

“I know what you're talking about, sweetheart. It's alright you don't have to say it. Your parents moved a few hours away soon after you disappeared so it will be a bit of a drive but I’ll take you there and we will sort this whole thing out.”

A loud, very obvious cough comes from behind me, a large hand gently resting on my shoulder, comforting and warm in its embrace. The sheriff does a not-so-subtle eye roll and says, “I mean, meandthe big guy will take you.”

???

Standing on the stoop of my parent's house is intimidating. I didn't always get along with my mother but nothing about this feels like home. It's a new house, new plants in the garden, and from what I can see inside the large windows, a new interior design. My parents were classic in their style. They thought that large heavy pieces of dark wooden furniture alongside floral wallpaper was how you showed wealth. It was a status of heritage and longevity that I never cared for, but dominated our lives because we held the Davis name.

The house I'm standing in front of is sleek and modern. The sheriff stands next to me, wanting to show this is an official visit. He briefly said that he has an odd feeling about my parents and wants me to prepare myself for the worst. He's never known a parent to act like this in the case of a missing child.

Chromes and white leather create a sterile space and as the front door opens I'm drawn to a large ornate single bulb chandelier hanging low in the foyer. Directly below it stands my mother, the scowl on her face confusing the warm welcome I was still hoping for.

“How dare you show your face here you filthy tramp. You’re not welcome. You have to leave immediately or I'll have you arrested,” she seethes.

My face scrunches in despair. I don't understand.

I was taken.Taken. I didn't choose to leave.

Snowflakes wisp at the corners of my vision, my mind wanting to creep back to my sanctuary. She stands in the middle of the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, barring me from entering an unfamiliar home.Like I would ever want to stay here.She looks older than when I last saw her, her makeup doing little to hide the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Now let's just take a minute to talk this through. There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding. I have reason to believe your daughter was taken—”

She wasn't taken you old fool,” she snaps. “She ran away with him, ruining my sister and tarnishing our family name. She is aslutwho doesn't get to crawl back here when things don't end well.”

Her eyes are filled with rage, spittle flying as she creeps closer and closer toward me. She seems to grow bigger right in front of me and I can't help but cower under the weight of her anger. The sheriff takes a step forward, attempting to block her hate when a muffled bang comes from behind us and the large glass bulb in the foyer seems to fall in slow motion, shattering to a million pieces just like my heart.

“Move back or the next one might hit you.” Ace growls from a few metres behind me, the tip of the handgun he’s holding barely hidden behind his large thigh. I should be terrified. I've never even seen a gun before, at least not in real life, but after everything that happened his steady presence allows me to take a breath and refocus, not in the least bit worried about the gun he’s holding.

My mother's scream erupts and she turns in disbelief at the broken glass spread across the floor.

“You did that, didn't you.” Her finger pointing firmly in my direction. Ace clearly replying to her that he did it and that she should get her eyes checked.

In the most controlled voice I can muster, I say, “He took me mum, on my birthday. He said it was a surprise party. He took me and hurt—”

“I don't want to hear anything you have to say. It's all lies. Do you think I didn't notice the stolen glances you two shared? I never thought you would act on it though, that your crush on him was nothing more than a phase. You disgust me. I always knew you would amount to nothing. From the moment you existed, you ruined everything you touched. It would have been better if you had died, at least then the family wouldn't be left in shame. I bet you’re just here for the money your grandfather left you. Don't worry,” she cackles. “We haven't been able to touch it despite getting lawyers involved. You killed him you know. Running away like you did with that man. It sent him into an early grave and despite everything you did, he still left you money in his will.”

“Mum, please. I didn't ...”

The lump forming in my throat seems to get larger and I visibly swallow, unable to finish my sentence, my dry mouth offering no reprieve. Despite trying to stay strong. Despite knowing that the sheriff and Ace are standing with me. The tears stream down my face as the numbness creeps in.

“Mum, I promise I didn't. Please listen to me,” I whisper, trying again to have her hear me,believe me, but a smug look crosses her face.

“He left you didn't he,” she laughs, the sound she makes more resembling a witch. “He didn't want you anymore and so, what? You shack up with the first loser you see,” she says, gesturing towards Ace.

Her tirade continues but the sheriff moves in front of me, blocking her line of sight, taking my hands in his he wipes a tear away from my cheek.

“You’re coming back with me now. I've heard enough of this and I'm not going to leave you, you hear? You're going to be safe with us, sweetheart. Martha and I will sort everything out so try not to worry. Also, I think we better leave soon or Ace might spontaneously combust.”

His voice is calm and soothing, everything my mother’s is not. He's like Santa Claus and the Grim Reaper all rolled into one. In fact, it's not hard to draw the similarities between him and Ace. I can see the darkness lurking beneath the surface but I'm not scared of it. I've seen what real evil looks like and neither of these men are it.

“Ma’am, it's been anything but a pleasure. I hope you trip and break your leg real soon,” he says calmly, tipping his hat to my mother before shepherding me back to the car where Ace is waiting with open arms.

“You can't talk to me like that,” she shrieks. “Don't you know who I am!? ”

Her voice gets drowned out, as Ace wraps me in a comforting hold. Whispering words of praise and solace. He smells like fresh linen and musk, enveloping me in empathy and compassion.

I'm ushered into Ace’s truck, the sheriff flicking his business card at the feet of my still ranting mother. Her hands held in fists stuck firmly by her side, resembling an entitled child who has been told no for the first time.

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