This calls for a little more than chocolate and tissues

Chapter 12

Heyy! Hope everyone had a good Christmas.... I know I did = ) I totally do not say this enough, but  thank you if you are voting, commenting, or even reading...you're the only reason I keep posting. Sorry it took FOREVER to get this one out....

Coldplay song of the day: Christmas Lights (This is officially my new favorite Christmas song. That's saying something, considering the pipes that Mariah Carey has.)

Chapter 12

Kate's POV

There was silence. It almost seemed comical. The last 48 hours of my life had felt like a bullhorn had been constantly at the side of my head.

A spider web sat unoccupied in one of the top corners, and shoes lined the floor. I had pushed everything away from one tiny section of the closet so as to sit in quiet and darkness, and make myself feel like I was taking a leave of absence from the planet for just a few precious moments.

Images of pain, suffering, and Drew's wicked smile kept flashing through my head.

When I started to become lightheaded from lack of oxygen, I push open the door and stepped out, inhaling deeply. Something lying on my comforter then caught my eye.

Upon further inspection, it was a small piece of crumpled notebook paper. Quick scribbled handwriting had left me a message:

A word of caution: do not be so quick to give your heart away. Those closest to you hold the darkest secrets.

-A friend

P.S. A safe sits in the governor's home office. The contents would interest you. The combination can be acquired after a glance at someone's birth certificate...

I was breathing heavily, my head spinning. I took a quick trip to my balcony, filling my lungs with outside air. I almost began to believe that even the air inside the house was tainted with secrets.

I crept down the hall, to the top of the dark cherry wood banister. Mother dearest was out running errands, Rose was at the hospital recovering, and Will had gone to visit her. Their dad was away for a border protection meeting in Austin.

No one was left to stop me.

I pushed the door to the office open slowly, as if terrified to explode an unseen bomb lurking in the shadows.

Nothing much was accomplished in half an hour of pacing in front of the safe. Not wishful thinking, or praying, or hoping my mental voodoo magic would make the dumb thing pop open.

And then it hit me.

I ran back to the other side of the house, skidding on the marble floors and crashing into the banister, I might add, and made it back to my room. The desk drawer in which I concealed every card, letter, or random piece of paper god ever bestowed upon me was ripped open. I caught my breath when the motive for the search lay right on top.

I fingered the heavy cardstock and ran a finger across the biggest letters, tracing them.

An invitation to a birthday party lay in my hands.

Will's birthday.

Date and all.

One more trip repeated across several thousand square feet, and I once more stood to face the safe. By this point I was shaking. I reached a trembling hand out to the dial. Left, then right, then left again.

Click.

One small noise was making me question my sanity. I pulled the door open.....

And gasped.

It was not the multiple bags of cocaine and pot, or the bloody semi-automatic that frightened me the most. It was the stack of photographs with two constant subjects: my parents.

However, none of them were the type of pictures that they kept above the fireplace or were held onto the fridge by magnets. No. They were side angles, some of them blurred, some looking like they had been taken while the photographer had been concealed in an obliging plant.

This was wrong. Not once did I take a breath while quickly scanning all the photos, becoming more and more upset by what I saw.

Incredulity began to take over my already petrified mind.

Someone had been watching them. And they had a connection to the very person I was soon to call daddy in law.

I was done.

I needed to get out of that house. But what to do with everything in the safe? I could take it all to the police...and then be charged with breaking and entering.  He was the governor, for crying out loud. No one would believe me. Still, someone needed to know.

Yet who could be trusted? I thought of every person I had ever known. If you subtracted people who had moved, died, or just really hated my guts, there weren't many left. I had been shy in school, it wasn't my fault. People in general just intimidated me.

And yet there was one. Only one out of hundreds that I could truly call a friend, trust with my life, or be there to put up with my fanatical sounding rants.

One problem.

I hadn't seen him since the ninth grade. And who knew if he even still lived in town?

It was worth a shot. Yet again, it was the only one I had.

My 21st century reflex was to see how much information I could acquire from his facebook page.

Oh, how foolish you are, my dear. Incredibly lacking in your privacy settings. And what does that leave me?

A phone number. And an email address.

With nervous hands, I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. And then a voice.

"Hello?"

But that one word said so much. It sounded concerned, anxious, calculating.

"Um, hi.  Is this Matthew?"

"Yeah, may I ask who this is?" But the voice sounded different. A little more relaxed, more trusting.

"This is...well, you're going to think I'm crazy, but, this is Kate Harper. From, um, school?"

Just saying it made me feel like crawling into a ball and dying of embarrassment.

Apparently he didn't feel the same.

"Oh, hey! How are you? What are you up to? How's life?"

I smiled. The joy that was bubbling through me made me feel like a shoe enthusiast in the Manolo Blahnik store. And then my bubble burst. I remembered why I was calling in the first place.

"Listen, I needed some advice from a friend, and I didn't know who else to call."

"I'm honored that you thought to call. Want to get coffee? I can come pick you up."

"How do you even know that I still live in town?"

"Oh. I didn't even consider that. Do you still live here?"

"I do indeed. But don't worry. I'll drive there. Starbucks, at the corner of St. Paul and Ross. Half an hour?"

"Sounds good."

And then there was a pause. "You know, I really have missed you." And with that, he hung up.

"I've missed you too," I whispered, staring at the phone. I shook my head to leave my thoughts and grabbed my purse. I'm sure the Perry's wouldn't miss one of the Mercedes in the garage for too long.

Matthew's POV

 I was scared when I saw that number calling. I had memorized the Perry home number; in case she was ever in any real danger, she needed to know.

 And now I was on my way to have coffee with her. I couldn't have planned it better myself. Oh, wait I did plan it. Never mind.