Page 2 of A Light in the Darkness
Michael crosses the distance easily, keeping his head on a swivel, and once he’s safely at my side, I use my shoulder to pin him to the wall. He stares at me, confused, until I draw my finger across my own throat, miming how I’ll slit his if he keeps pressing me. I wouldn’t really, and Michael knows as much. I already watched my stupid ass half-brother attempt to do that. But the threat is a low blow, given how sensitive he is about the scar—a thin red line cutting right through his throat. He glowers at me, so I know the point has been taken, and I let him go.
I prefer to work alone because it’s easier that way. No dealing with people’s emotions, their loud voice in your ear, their fuckups. I isolated myself for years, dealing with the bare minimum to appease my father and Davos, while also still doing my best to get a shot at redemption. Unfortunately, after my father’s wake, I realized I can’t continue to run alone. I’m in deeper than I ever have been, and there are times where I simply need more men. I didn’t have enough people who understood what was at risk during my father’s wake, so I’d hired out. That proved to be a mistake—one that had me questioning just how much I could trust Michael.
But I learn from my mistakes. It’s why I’ve gathered a group of people that I can trust—people with a vested interest in stopping Davos.
Kent Bowland’s wife went missing during his first tour of duty. When the letters stopped coming, he thought she was pulling away from him, maybe having an affair. He assumed she was ducking his calls when he got access to the phone. By the time he got away to check on her, she was gone, their cat was dead, and the house wasexactly how he’d left it. But every digital record of her existence was gone—their marriage certificate, social media pages, birth certificate, even her social security number. I can’t imagine the mindfuck that must have been. It’s been years, but he still hasn’t given up hope of finding her… or finding out what happened to her.
Rich is a friend of Kent’s, a grizzly bear looking man with a surprisingly soft personality. I don’t know anything about him other than that. But Kent trusts him with his life, so I trust his reasons for being here are altruistic.
Harley Cross is the scariest woman I’ve ever seen despite being beautiful and an absolute badass. She hasn’t told me her story yet, which is fine since I learned the hard way that bullying people into revealing their trauma doesn’t work out so well. I do know that the rumors say she was attacked, and her baby was cut out of her stomach. They left her for dead, but Harley sewed herself up and went to find her kid. I don’t even know if that’s possible, but if anyone can do it, I guarantee it’s her. She brought Dom into the fold after his younger brother was found in a dumpster without any of his vital organs.
And then there’s Rook. A bouncer at one of my clubs, he has a vested interest in women’s safety… particularly following a night out. It’s why I’ve always felt partial to him. He was the first person to get through to Genevieve all those years ago, the first person to get her to open up and show who she really was. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was kind of spectacular. They say you never forget your first, and they’re right. She still torments me, though in different ways than Claire.
Funny how both the living and dead can haunt you.
Chapter two
Claire
I'm a killer.
Some days, that thought circles through my mind on an endless loop… when I’m lying in bed at night, or staring aimlessly into the fridge, when my professors’ lackluster ramblings cause my mind to wander. Even when the most beautiful man on campus asks me on a date.
Moose catches my eye from across the room, always watching, and I blink, realizing that Austin has stopped talking. For a minute, I forgot where I was. Some days, I’m still lying in the dark waiting for the monsters to come. Other days, Iamthe monster.
And some days, I actually pay attention in class as if my degree means a damn thing to the world. It’s a piece of paper, which I know can be erased as easily as the text message I keep typing but have never sent. And yet, some days, I pull myself together enough to play the part of a collegiate looking to make plans for the future as if humanity isn’t bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” I shake my head as if that will pull me out of the funk, “what?”
Austin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and causing his shirt to lift up to reveal a little of his six-pack. “I mean if you're interested, we can go together. I wasn’t sure if you were with…him.” Austin turns, tipping his head toward the musclehead staring daggers at us.
And just like that, I’m pulled completely back to reality. And what a weird fucking reality it is.
I laugh. “Moose?” Just saying his name makes me laugh again. As if I would be dating a man called Moose, for fuck’s sake. “No. He’s Just...” I hesitate because, really, what am I supposed to say? I consider him to be my stalker, but I can't very well go around telling that to other people who’ll be alarmed by those words. The acceptable response would be ‘friend’, but I’m not sure anyone can ever use the wordfriendin the same sentence as Moose.
“It's complicated.” I wave a hand to try and dismiss any further conversation about my unfortunately, sexy shadow. “But we arenottogether.”
“Okay.” Austin’s eyes dart from the menace in question back to me, sounding just a little less hesitant than before. “So, what do you say? I'll pick you up at four. We can tailgate a couple of hours before the game starts.”
Oh.That'swhat we were talking about. The basketball game.
Truth be told, I don’t understand sports. There are too many random rules and all of the yelling that people do definitely doesn't help matters. But the last few months have driven me insane, and now the idea of being anywhere other than my apartment sounds like heaven. Nearly a month of winter break with Moose on my ass made me so stir-crazy that I thought getting back to class would help. It didn’t help, of course, because every day the weather warms, I’m just reminded of last summer. Sometimes it feels like a fever dream, and while I know I can’t go back to what I had then, I don’t know if I’ll ever find anything—or anyone—that makes me feel so alive again.
Austin clears his throat a little, drawing my attention back to his brilliant blue eyes as he patiently waits for an answer.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to shake Moose long enough to get away, but I’m certainly willing to try. If nothing else, at least dragging him along to a social event will be a great form of torture. The thought of him sitting all sullen and dark like a little rain cloud while frat boys drink and sorority girls vie for his attention amusesme enough to laugh again. “Yeah.” I say finally, watching Austin’s grin widen further to reveal perfect white teeth.
Everything about Austin Lennon is perfect. I had a crush on him my sophomore year when we took humanities together, and he had never even seemed to notice me. But he notices me now, and even though I’m not hung up on him like I once was, it feels good to be noticed. “All right. I know where the apartment is, but do you wanna give me your number just in case?”
I appraise his face, looking for any underlying threat. “How do you know where I live?”
“Rhea's birthday party last year.” He shrugs, looking slightly put off by the suspicion in my tone. “Remember? I did karaoke.”
“Oh.” I laugh as the heat washes across my skin.
I probably sound like a paranoid psychopath, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't really care. I’m sure he’s not looking to marry me, and after last summer, I’m fairly certain that psychopaths are fun in bed. I’m not sure I’d consider Remy a psychopath, but I thinkImay be, and I had a damn good time in the sheets with him.
I feel the lust curl in my stomach at the memories of all the filthy things we did, but I stave them off quickly. “I remember that, actually. Your rendition of Journey was moving. You actually had me convinced youwerejust a small-town girl.”
