Page 277 of Summer Heat
These next four years without you are going to be fucking hell for me. Please don’t make me go through them without you. Please say you’ll take me back. I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. It’ll always be you.
I love you to the moon and back.
Cole
Through my tears, I can barely make out the last few lines. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and look at the date on the top-right corner. August 3, 2005. My eyes widen. That was before we went to see him at Duke. That was...oh my God. My stomach turns once more. That was the day I broke up with him before we left for college. Why didn’t he tell me any of this? I close my eyes and let more tears spill out of them. I wish I could go back to that night when Aubry tried to give this to me. I shake my head. No, I don’t. Everything would have been different. Yes, we wasted a lot of time, but it was for the better. We’re together now, and nothing can break our bond. I smile at the thought while I wipe the last tears from my face and pull my hair into a ponytail.
I get up and shake off the grass stuck on my jeans before I start to walk out of the park. As I scroll through my phone to call Cole, I hear a loud sound and screams that startle me. I have the ringing phone up to my ear as I look in the direction of the screams. I feel a strong tug on my arm that causes me to lose my balance. I’m expecting it to be a rude homeless man or a drunk, anything but what I’m faced with. He’s so close, and he’s holding on to my arm. I open my mouth—about to scream, and I hear Cole answer the phone. The man covers my mouth roughly with one glove-covered hand and it feels like sandpaper.
Through my muffled screams, I can taste the mix of gasoline and metal in my mouth. I’m kicking and pulling down on his strong arms, and accidentally let my phone slip out of my hands. My frantic eyes widen as I’m dragged away from my only source of communication. I look around for Bruce. Where’s Bruce? My chest is heaving in panting breaths and I’m sweating profusely, but it has nothing to do with the sunlight that’s hitting my body. He turns my body and grips me tighter in his hold, crushing my ribs.
A carnival of dread washes over me when I see that he’s dragging me to an unmarked van. This is suddenly too familiar. Too real. Too much. He puts a gag in my mouth, and I am finally able to take a good look at him. He’s a big man, I would never stand a chance against him. He has short blond hair and one blue eye and one brown eye--made of glass. I narrow my eyes at him and curse him for being so evil. Through his glass eye, I can see the reflection of my own. My eyes look stormy, surely a reflection of what’s to come.
His eyes are filled with hatred that I don’t und
erstand, and I want to ask him what I did to deserve it. I whimper when he throws me into the van and pulls up the sleeve of my shirt to inject me with something—a tranquilizer, I’m guessing. I try to squirm away from the needle, but he pins my body down with his legs, making it impossible for me to move. He ties me up tightly with rope and closes the doors with a bang. I try to twist my aching body, but cannot move anywhere. My eyes droop heavily, and I feel them beginning to close. The sunlight is fading through the tinted windows; it’s getting dark again. I will my eyes not to close on me. I try to force them open. I think of Cole and try to push through the tranquilizer’s effects. It’s no use though, my breathing is beginning to relax, and my chest is no longer heaving. My eyes begin to shut heavily—once, twice, then a third time. I open them one last time as I try to search for light, but I know I’ll never find it, because there is no light in darkness.
* * *
Is love ever enough? Told in separate points of view, Darkness Before Dawn is the continuation of Blake and Cole’s fight to make it to the light. READ NOW >
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THE PAWN
SKYE WARREN
Every pawn is a potential queen.
- James Mason
PROLOGUE
The party spills over with guests, from the ballroom to the front lawn. It’s nighttime, but the house is lit up, bright as the sun. All around me diamonds glitter. We’ve reached that tipping point where everyone is sloshed enough to smile, but not so much they start to slur. There’s almost too many people, almost too much alcohol. Almost too much wealth in one room.
It reminds me of Icarus, with his wings of feather and wax. If Icarus had a five-hundred-person guest list for his graduation party. It reminds me of flying too close to the sun.
I snag a flute of champagne from one of the servers, who pretends not to see. The bubbles tickle my nose as I take a detour through the kitchen. Rosita stands at the stove, stirring her world-famous jambalaya in a large cast iron pot. The spices pull me close.
I reach for a spoon. “Is it ready yet?”
She slaps my hand away. “You’ll ruin your pretty dress. It’ll be ready when it’s ready.”
We have caterers who make food for all our events, but since this is my graduation party, Rosita agreed to make my favorite dish. She’s going to spoon some onto little puff pastry cups and call it a canape.
I try to pout, but everything is too perfect for that. Only one thing is missing from this picture. I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Rosita. Have you seen Daddy?”
“Where he always is, most likely.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. Then I’m through the swinging door that leads into the private side of the house. I pass Gerty, our event planner, who’s muttering about guests who aren’t on the invite list.
