Page 43 of When Darkness Calls

What could have happened if he hadn’t been home? If he had been asleep when she called him? If he hadn’t found her when he did?

I swallow back the bile creeping up my throat and say, “Thank you, Cay.”

“Hm?” He lifts his head.

“I don’t say it enough. Thank you, Cay. For everything you do for me—for us—all of us.”

Cade’s expression softens, but there’s something there, hidden behind the swirls of amber and green in his eyes. Like there’s more to what my words mean to him.

“Get to bed, Dani. It’s late.”

He rises from his seat, coming up to kiss the top of my head as he passes me, and turning the overhead light off as he makes his way down the hall to his room.

The soft glow of the range hood light is the only thing left throughout the house to guide my path up to my room until I turn on my lamp. I make quick work of getting into my pjs and sliding between my sheets.

My TV is on, the volume low, and the video essay from this morning droning on in the background. I should be comfortable. I should be feeling the pressing weight of today falling away. I should be seconds from slipping into a deep dreamless sleep.

But the cold hasn’t left me.

Frigid. Scrutinizing.

The eyes close in.

On nearly soundless steps, I make my way over to my balcony doors, double checking the lock is in place, and peering out over this side of our yard and down the street. I scan every inch of my view, jumping from house to house, yard to yard, trying to see through the darkness between the trees.

Just as I’m about to give up my search, there’s a small movement out of the corner of my eye. The shadowy shape of a person begins to form along the edges of the large bush beside Mrs. McCoy’s mailbox. Right next door.

My brows crease, uncertainty slithering beneath my skin, mingling with the chilly glare of the ever-present ghosts looming nearby.

Why are you still here?

thirteen

Grayson

The Same Night...

“You ready, man?” Alex stands in front of me, his broad frame illuminated by the humming bulbs above us. The “locker room” is cold, but I know the moment we step out of the doors, a wall of heat will rush over me from the crowded building.

I can hear the rumble of people cheering through the cinder block walls.

The room is dirty, rundown, which is expected of the old building by the storage yard south of Shadow Grove. All the buildings in this area have been shut down for decades. Being so close to the river’s edge, a bad flood had caused a fuck ton of damage, leaving a lot of them unusable. All the business owners who were trying to set up a sort of “hub” here had to move their main offices to a different town or back to the city.

The place may not be bustling with construction, steel, and any other blue collar workers, but it doesn’t mean it’s been completely abandoned.

Every weekend, pretty much, you can expect to find parties and just about any other type of chaotic revelry within the walls of these forgotten buildings. Example one being the club slash underground fight event taking place right outside this locker room door.

A lot of the time, the parties, fights, or even the big gambling nights are held in this building, which I think was once a factory of some kind. It’s owned by Bruiser—the guy I grew up calling an uncle, who lived down the street from me my whole life—and his brothers, and by proxy their motorcycle club.

They had apparently inherited the building from their grandfather and decided to use it for some good…in a way. They’ve found a way to make some money by “renting” it out on nights they aren’t holding the fights and games. Then, the nights they are, there's a charge for entry to watch, party, whatever, and a price to take part in a match or game.

A single night can rake in a couple grand at least, all of which gets donated to different organizations and causes around Ashwood County under the name of their MC, The Reapers.

I may have had three mother figures in my life, but Bruiser is the closest thing I’ve truly had to a dad. He’s the one who taught me how to really fight after he saw me coming home early from school with cut lips and black eyes one too many times.

And also, the one that helped me understand that sometimes the best way to help people isn’t always the most legal.

It’s my first night off of Dani Watch in a few days.