Hello Darkness

Chapter Twenty

I roll over in my chair a little disappointed to see Derek in Talum's place on the couch. Though nightmares raged in my sleep, it's the most rest I've gotten since finding the woman. I bite my lip and pull the blanket up to hide my smile. It feels good to feel something other than fear. The little bursts of happiness, the little tingles of joy, are what give me hope. Hope that better things will come.

"Breccan wants you to get ready. Nothing fancy—something you wouldn't mind getting dirty. He'll be here soon," Derek says.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"The way you were thrashing, I thought I very well might get a fist to the face."

Trying to ignore the flush of my cheeks, I counter, "And I'm supposed to trust you to protect my sister when you're afraid of a girl half your size?"

He just smiles as I crawl out of the chair, back aching more than usual. But I'd rather have an aching back than no sleep because of the unconscious fear that someone might crawl through my window. At least there is almost always someone else in the living room. "What are we doing?"

"Didn't say. Just said make sure you're ready."

I narrow my eyes on him, before heading to the bathroom. He knows more than he is letting on. I toss my hair in a ponytail and splash water on my face, rinsing the sleep from my eyes. I apply some eyeliner and smack my lips together. I lean into the mirror—cherry red lips would do today. Tilting my cheek to the light, I run my fingers over the cuts from my fall. The pale white gashes are hardly noticeable unless you are looking for them.

"I thought I told Derek to have you ready." I jump jutting my arm up toward his neck, smacking him in the bottom of the jaw, knocking his teeth together. Breccan groans restraining my wrists.

Heat floods my cheeks and I pull away. "I'm so sorry. You should know better than to sneak up on me."

He laughs while holding his jaw.

"Now you see why I didn't wake you?" Derek calls from the living room. "I see what you do to that bag."

I roll my eyes.

"Well, are you ready?" Breccan's honey eyes bounce with excitement.

"For what?" I try fluttering my lashes to get him to tell me—but that doesn't work on him.

"I've got plans for us. Hopefully it will get your mind off things."

As soon as we take off in the direction of Breccan's house, I know exactly what we're doing. We're going to work on Yvette.

We pull into his driveway, his yard a little shaggy. But he's hardly been home, I can't expect him to weed-wack. I jump out of his truck just as it stops before his grey ranch. It's small but he doesn't need much for his bachelor pad. He pushes the button on the remote on his visor and the door pulls up to reveal Yvette. My heart leaps as I follow the white pinstripe across her fading red body in desperate need of waxing and I can't resist getting started right away.

Music thrums in the background, The Beatles at the moment. Why can't more bands be like this? I would love going to these concerts. Unique and original unlike the bands today with their auto tuning that makes them sound like everyone else.

We work for hours in silence until we are covered in grease up to our elbows. A smell I'm quite sure I can never get enough of. So many of these parts my father put in with his own hands. He would be proud to see me helping and not just standing in the way.

Breccan leans back, placing his elbows on the front of the car. "So, I'm thinking of letting the guard off. I think the department was right, I think it was just a prank."

The picture—the man. Something urges me to tell him, but I deleted it. I didn't even have the proof. "I'd feel more comfortable if they stayed on. Just for a bit longer."

"Charley, there's been no incidents and the case is closed."

"Well maybe Talum and Derek are the reason there's been no incidents. Plus, we don't really know why it was called off. I don't think we're out of the woods."

He shakes his head looking down at his blackened fingers. "Why's that?"

"I think it has to do with my parents." I place my hands on my hips.

He lifts his gaze to the ceiling and sighs. "I don't."

It stings. Of all people, Breccan is the most willing to listen but those words were so honest—so direct. "You can't seriously believe either case was a suicide. If so, why the hell is someone after me?"

"What else am I supposed to think? The case is closed—that's it. It's over." He backs up and sets a grease splattered wrench on the workbench lining the back wall.

"Well, they're wrong."

"And what makes you so sure?" Something bitter tints his voice. He knows I'm hiding something.

I'm not sure how to respond. "It's just a gut feeling."

"Gut feelings aren't facts."

"What I saw that night is. And I'm telling you it's the same."

"What you saw that night was a concoction of a little girl's imagination." His words are a dagger, plunging deep into my stomach. A fire burns in his eyes.

"You can't tell me what's real if you weren't there." Tears prick the back of my eyes.

"Do you even hear yourself?" He places his hands on his hips. "I have stood by you every day of your life. When people called you crazy—I took swings for you. But do you even realize how hard it is to defend you when you continue with this bullshit?"

I look down at my hands, as he continues twisting the dagger in my gut. "Do you see how much it kills Alma when you say your parents were killed by vampires? How much it breaks her heart to hear that? She didn't just lose her parents that day, she lost her sister too. You need help, Charley."

And there it is. He rips out the dagger and leaves me bleeding. "I'm not crazy," my voice is weak, nearly sticking in my throat.

"If you weren't, then you wouldn't have to try so hard to convince people that you're sane." Cold, bitter anger laces his tongue. This isn't the man I know, something has made him like this. There is so much frustration built up in his words, like years and years have passed and he released it all in one killing blow. I've never felt so alone. Like my last lifeline is stripped away and I am left in free fall.

I am so numb, tears don't even fall. It's an emptiness like I've never felt. An endless pit of nothing. "Take me home, Breccan. I don't want to be a bother."

"Charley—" he breathes with all the regret in the world. But it's too late, and the words cut too deep. "I'm sorry."

He reaches for my arm, but I rip it away. "Take.Me. Home."