Page 45 of When Darkness Calls

A laugh bubbles out of me again. The bell rings. Round One and done.

The guy’s body is motionless. Not dead, just…out.

Alex walks over, head tilted down at him.

“Bit harsh you think. Could’ve at least made it convincing.” He throws a towel at me.

“He was drunk. He’ll be fine. I’m surprised he even felt half of those.”

Alex nods in understanding. “Well, at least I got some cash out of it. Gotta say, kind of hoped it would have been longer. You looked like you were having all kinds of fun.” He smirks and I shrug him off.

Maybe I was. There’s something in the feeling of inciting fear in someone. The uneasiness inside their bones. Watching the body’s response to the flood of chemicals. Deciding to stay and fight or run and hide. And God, do I love the fight.

fourteen

Dani

Ihate it here. My dad’s new house, the one he bought after the divorce, is fucking huge. It’s way too over the top. I prefer our house, Mom’s house. The one that had all of the best and worst memories of my life.

The walls that shaped me into the person I am today. With the tree house I turned into a theater when I was ten, and the neighbors who let me and Cade come over for hot chocolate on snow days. Not this… mini mansion in the middle of fucking nowhere.

It’s a huge ass estate right on the edge of East End and Blackwoods, the small town that my family’s business helped develop over hundred years ago or something. It’s a cute little coal town that now also has a few logging and construction businesses, and things like that.

I remember walking through the brick laid street as a kid with my grandpa. Like Dad, he also lived in a crazy huge house, which was completely impractical, but somehow, it worked. There were old photographs covering just about every square inch of the house. Pictures of Dad and Uncle Hank as kids, baby photos of me and Cade, and my favorite, the large portrait of Grandpa and Gran on their wedding day.

She looked so beautiful. Her dark curls a lot like my own, cropped short by her shoulders, pinned back on the sides, a dark lipstick lining her bright smile, and Grandpa looking at her as if she were his sun.

The large house was homey, with dozens of different patterned and textured fabrics, plush rugs, and warm tones, filled with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon mixed with Grandpa’s tobacco. I loved that scent and have been finding ways to recreate it with my own candles, perfumes, and bath products since middle school. It radiated an abundance of comfort and love.

My dad’s new house is not the case. I lived here, partly, for a few years, but I counted each second until I could leave. Lucky for Cade, he never had to spend a night in this cold hollow shell of a home, where the nights were so quiet that you could often hear the creaking of the house as the wind blew against the outside.

Then Jennifer came. I could deal with the loneliness and the barren vibes of the house, but when she came, and brought her bullshit fake smiles and condescending attitude and constant judging—no. I just wanted the purple bedroom facing the left side of the yard, with the view of our street from my window, and our dilapidated tree house casting weird shadows on the backyard.

“Danielle! It’s so good to see you. My, don’t you look—” she starts with a fake ass plastic smile, trailing off as her eyes roam over me. I stood on the threshold of the house in a pair of brown plaid pants, the hem rolled over my black combat boots, and a Night of the Living Dead shirt tucked into them. I don’t know if it’s the outfit that has her stumped on what to try complimenting me on, if it’s the black lipstick, or maybe the fact that I have a new tattoo since the last time they had seen us. Maybe all three? I don’t really care. I like Ted. I look down at the little ghost tattooed on my bicep. Ted’s cool. Jennifer can fuck off.

“Festive!” Jennifer finally finishes her sentence and inspection of my outfit choice. I roll my eyes as she purses her lips, turning to Cade. Her smile has returned and there’s that disgusting little hint of seduction that’s been there since she’s been here.

“Caden Beckett you handsome man. You look more and more like your father every day.” He flashes her a charming, placating grin. The same one that has gotten him practically everything he’s ever wanted.

Ass kisser.

I stick my tongue out at him from behind the succubus before us. Cade’s eyes crinkled, so I know he saw me. I smirked, pushing past my step-mom to the foyer. My dad is there, arms spread wide waiting for my embrace. As his arms wrap around me, a lot of my stress is just gone. Instantly. I don’t get to spend as much time with my dad as I would like.

Charles Beckett is a busy man. Running a multiple corporation business in our family name, one that’s been passed down for generations, starting as a small coal company, and has grown exponentially over the decades. No matter what, though I know I can always count on my dad to give healing hugs.

I sigh in his arms, body relaxing in his strong embrace.

“What’s wrong, Doll?” His deep voice vibrates through his chest, and a small smile plays at my lips.

“Nothing, Dad. Just happy to see you.” He squeezes me tighter.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart. We’re gonna sit out on the patio, okay?” He pulls back looking down at me with his warm brown eyes.

“Good, deal, old man.”

He gasps dramatically, quickly pulling his hands back. “Take that back, missy.”

“Nope.” I laugh walking with him to the patio doors. He told me about his latest trip to Virginia and the one he has next month to Pennsylvania. I told him about school and my portfolio project.