Page 33 of Left In The Dark

“Where are you going?” she shouts behind me.

“To check up on something. I’ll be back by dinner time.”

“You aren’t going to see your dad, are you? I really wouldn’t worry about it, hun.” Her apron bunches between her fists as she continues. “He’s not worth it.”

Kicking dirt up with my dragging feet, I swing the door open, looking back at her. “I know, Mom. I promise you this has nothing to do with him. Karma will handle that in time. This is about something I meant to do earlier but forgot.”

“Okay, drive carefully.”

“I will.” Pressing my lips in a tight smile, I continue getting into the car and lift my phone to my face. I read over my last message from Blake again, fuming on the inside. I have to know for sure, and he admits so much when I have him where I want him. Once he opens up to me in one way, he bares more and more, laying everything burning at him on inside on the table.

Blake: I haven’t washed every part of my skin off.

My fingers swipe across the screen, moving ahead of my brain, and within seconds I’m hitting send and driving to the old water tower where I used to go whenever I wanted to be far away from everything on the ground. It hasn’t been removed yet, and is half hidden by a grouping of trees, with only one house close by that no one currently lives in. I’m sharing my special place with him so whenever I go there I’ll be able to feel more above everyone else when I remember bending my bully over the railing and making him scream my name in ways he never has.

Thinking back to the message I sent him, I smile big, taking a sharp turn, and my lips spread wider when my phone vibrates.

Me: Prove it.

Blake: How?

Pulling over to the side of the road, I eye the high structure and write back.

Me: Meet me at the old water tower. You know where it is?

One . . . two . . . three . . . buzzzzz.

Blake: I know where it is. I’m kind of busy at the moment, though. Can I meet you there in two hours?

Me: It’s either now or not at all.

My skin feels tight as I wait for him to message me back. Those dots bounce, stop, and bounce again.

Blake: I can be there in ten minutes.

Me: Good boy.

No more texts come in and I exit the vehicle, leaning against the door as I enjoy the birds chirping around me. I forgot how peaceful and quiet it was out here. It won’t be that way for long. Not with the sounds I’m about to drag from that soon to be raw throat of his.

An engine roars behind me, tires scraping the gravel, and Blake parks beside me. He sits in the car, looking around and down at his phone before slowly exiting. With hesitant steps, he inches closer, and his feet halt when he’s standing directly in front of me.

I look down at my watch and then at him. “You’re five minutes late.”

“Yeah.” He blows out a breath, lowering his jacket sleeves over the palms of his hands. “I guess I wasn’t as close as I thought I was.”

“I didn’t interrupt anything too important, did I?”

“No. I was just leaving my dad’s office and was going to swing by a friend’s house to hang for a bit.”

“That’s a very short work day,” I muse.

“I got the day wrong and I’m not actually supposed to start until tomorrow. Everyone was thankful for the coffee, though.” He kicks his feet together, lowering his eyes.

Hooking my fingers under his chin, I lift his face, my gaze piercing his. There’s way more to the story than he’s letting on. I have a feeling I won’t have to ask again for him to tell me later. He’s holding on tight to that pride, but I can see it slipping in his demeanor.

“So, who was this friend you were going to see?”

“No one you know,” he says too quickly. “A date, you could say. You know, like the one you had earlier.”