Chapter 134: Dark
- RAYA -
As I’m getting ready to pack up my things for the day, a nagging unease slips its way into my chest and starts clawing at me to pay attention. Something is wrong. I haven’t heard from Dex since earlier, and his father’s surgery should be done by now.
’Is everything okay?’ I type out and push send.
I stare at the phone and wait to see those little bubbles pop up that show he’s typing a response, but it doesn’t happen. He’s probably busy. I’m sure he’s just talking to his father and he’ll get back to me as soon as he can.
When I finally push out of the front doors, Rory is waiting. She agreed to drive Dex’s truck to his house while I drive her smaller car. Dex will be back in town tomorrow, but I don’t want anything to happen to his truck just because I was too chicken to drive it.
My sister looks tired. That’s the first thing I think when I see her, and her confession last night about Westin leaving resurfaces.
"Hey, how are you?" I ask, adjusting the purse strap on my shoulder.
"Never better," she shrugs with a weak smile and then leads me to her car. "Westin already started packing things. Just a heads-up. It’s a mess, and it’s probably going to be uncomfortable."
"We don’t have to go there right away. Or... do you want to stay at Dex’s instead?"
She chews her bottom lip. "I don’t know."
"He won’t mind. It will be fun," I say, bumping into her playfully while we walk. "We can order food or something. And then I won’t have to worry about Moira Rose being alone."
Rory chuckles. "Maybe that would be fun."
When we come to her car parked a few places back from Dex’s truck, I do a quick scan of the area to see if Luciano can be spotted anywhere. I don’t like the knowledge that I’m being watched, but I can’t deny the fact that there is also a sense of security that comes with it. Luciano was there last night when I needed someone, and as much as he probably hated doing it, he wasn’t an ass about it either.
Sure enough, I spot the familiar black SUV further down on the other side of the street. The windows are tinted so dark that I can’t see whether he’s inside or not, and a chill washes down my spine. Anyone could be inside that car watching us, and that thought is terrifying.
But it’s not anyone, I tell myself. It’s Dex’s cousin. It’s safe.
"Raya," Rory says next to me, touching my shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Mmhmm," I nod, tearing my eyes away from where Luciano is parked. "Fine. So I’ll meet you at the house?"
"That’s the plan."
We exchange keys, and Rory returns to Dex’s truck. My sister is such a badass. I mean, she drives everyday, so it’s probably no big deal for her to drive something so big. But still, watching her little frame climb into that big truck and own it is impressive.
It reminds me of when Rory went through a goth phase in high school and she would wear huge black platform boots that made her look taller and tougher while also making her legs look even skinnier. During that time, it was rare to see her in anything other than black. She had numerous piercings and wild colored hair that changed depending on her mood.
The stark contrast between then and now is amusing until I remember why Rory went through that phase in the first place. It wasn’t just her clothes that were dark.
The ghost of an old pain tries to resurface, and I blow out a heavy breath, willing it away. If Rory has moved on, then there is no need in me reliving it and aching for her.
Even starting Rory’s small car gives me pause, but when I see my sister pull out into the street, I push all of the fears to the back of my mind and follow. It helps that I only have to follow her—that way I don’t have to think about what I’m doing. I change lanes when she does. I stop when she does.
We’re finally out of the busy city traffic when my phone rings on the seat next to me. I glance down and see Dex’s name and answer it quickly without stopping to consider the fact that I’m driving.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey." His voice doesn’t sound right. It’s tight and raspy.
"Dex, what is it?"
"My father didn’t make it," he says.
"What?"
I heard what he said, but the question is automatic. Because they’re just words, and sometimes that’s all we hear. The meaning of those words slides off like rain on a window, not sinking in, not getting through.
"He’s gone," Dex says, clearing his throat. "There were complications."
The city in front of me fades into the background. Rather than driving a car, I’ve been transported inside the despair in Dex’s voice, imagining where he is right now and wishing I could be next to him.
"I’m so sorry." The breath rushes out of me. "What can I do? Do you want me to come there?"
"No," he replies gruffly. "No, but thank you. I’m coming back tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from work."
It’s hard to swallow past the lump in my throat knowing that Dex is in pain right now and alone.
"Shit, I’m so sorry Dex."
Ahead of me, Rory is pulling into the long tree-lined drive that leads to Dex’s house.
"If you need to talk later or just... anything, will you call me?" I ask him. "You don’t even have to say anything. I can just be on the phone with you so you’re not alone."
"Yeah," he chuckles, though it’s gravelly and thick with emotion. "Thank you. I’ll talk to you later."
"Okay," I say, my heart squeezing painfully. "I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too," he says, rushing through it, and then the line disconnects.
"Shit," I whisper to myself and slide the phone under my leg against the seat. "Shit shit shit."
- DEX -
After hanging up with Raya, the phone slides out of my hands and onto the hotel bed. It feels like I’m suffocating, the pain is so thick. It coats everything inside like tar, and I’m trying not to choke on it.
My father’s peaceful face remains on a loop, right on the surface of my mind. When I went in to the room to see him, I knew instantly that he was home. He’s with my mother. He knew it was going to happen. He said he saw her this morning, and maybe that means that I shouldn’t be this upset. But I can’t stop thinking about how I could have been spending these last days with him.
I didn’t have a chance to tell him about Raya. I didn’t have a chance to say a lot of things... things that you always imagine you’ll have a chance to say later.
I groan into my hands and then get up to pace the hotel suite. There is nothing for me to do, but a restlessness has bloomed to help cope with this weight that is wanting to sink me. This is part of why I left when my mother died. I can’t sit still. I can’t remain in one place, because then the sorrow accumulates, piling on top until I’m buried so far in the mud that I can’t get out.
"I’m going out," I call to Lawson, grabbing my wallet and stalking out of the suite before he has a chance to answer.
Lawson has been too nice. Too caring. Too helpful. It’s making my skin itch, and I don’t want to be around that. That’s not who he is, and the fact that our father’s death is either a chance for him to play a role or snap out of his narcissism is bullshit. Be who you are... all the time. Don’t fuck with my emotions.
I walk aimlessly around the city, enjoying the dark that has descended because it matches how I feel. There are people suffering everywhere, and when I’m an unknown person walking amongst others, my own pain bleeds out. It’s a release.
When my body is moving, I don’t have to think. There is only the swing of my arms, my shoes hitting the pavement, the coming fall’s chill on the breeze as it stirs against my face.
Hours pass before I look at my phone next. There are missed calls and texts from Raya and Lawson and others who must have received word about father’s passing already.
Lawson immediately sprung into action, calling everyone he could think of that needed to be informed before we even left the hospital. And he didn’t stop after we arrived back at the hotel. He’s probably still on the phone.
I check the texts from him.
’Ordering food. There will be some here if you get hungry.’
’You’re starting to worry me, bro. Do I need to come look for you?’
’I get it now, Dex. I want to run away, too. Maybe I will.’
I scoff, shoving my phone back in my pocket as I turn around and start heading back to the hotel. Whatever Lawson is feeling, it’s not what I’m feeling. We are not the same. I hope he doesn’t think this is going to be the thing that brings us together.
Lawson can’t fool me. My brother might be hurting on some level, but I’m sure he also sees father’s death as fortuitous. It saved him from the fear of returning back to that basement and chair.
He’s probably hoping I completely lose my shit again and disappear so that he can take CEO after all. Well, fat fucking chance of that. I’m not running this time. And Lawson is not touching anything that’s mine.
