Darkness Before Dawn (27 page)

"Maybe we can get to know each other someday," I offer.

He smiles warmly. "You're always welcome here, baby girl," he says before pulling me into a hug. "Don't let him fool you, your pops did miss you. I'll get to the bottom of that, but I'm glad you put him in his place. Don't believe everything you hear, love. Not even from him. Not even from Shelley. I did try, I did look for her—I sent her flowers with those kids every time I knew they were going over there. She just refused them. Love always tries, and I never stopped."

Tears form in my eyes as I nod at him, thinking of Shelley's sadness over her lost love. I take a breath, blinking, and signal at Connor to get us out of there. When we walk through the corridor again, I pause to look at all of the photos, paying close attention to all of them in detail. I run a trembling hand over the one of my mother with Aunt Shelley, or Grandma Shelley. Cole hugs me from behind and coos sweetly in my ear about how beautiful they were, making me turn around and sob into his shirt as he embraces me.

"This is too much for one person," I muffle against his chest.

"I know, baby. I know," he says quietly as he finger combs my hair.

"
So, what do you wanna do for you birthday?" Becky asks in the middle of our conversation about baby bedding.

I purse my lips and switch the phone to my other ear so I can hold it with my shoulder. "I don't know. Nothing. Take a vacation. Tan. I really don't know," I reply with a shrug, making me drop the phone.

"...not know?" Becky asks when I put the phone back up to my ear.

"I don't know, Becks, really. It's not a huge deal, just another birthday, you know I've never really celebrated them anyway."

"Yeah, but you're over that. Maybe you can actually act like a grown up and have a party this year," she suggests perkily, making me laugh.

"Seriously?" I ask with an eye roll, even though she can't see me.

"Yes, seriously! You have never had a party!" she pouts.

I groan. "Becky! We had parties all the time!"

"No, we didn't! We cut a freaking cake between the six of us! That's not a party! I'm talking balloons, invitations, ACTUAL GUESTS!"

I laugh, despite myself. "I'll consider it. I'll look at invitations online or something."

"You can't plan your own party!" she squeals.

"Then why the hell are you telling me any of this?" I ask, annoyed, as she laughs on the other end of the line.

We go back and forth about the party for about an hour, until I finally get her to hang up. She and Greg are staying here for the weekend, and my birthday just so happens to land on Saturday, so that should be fun...or not. I finish doing the dishes before getting my laptop out to search for information on the Bar exam. I'm considering taking it in a couple of weeks since I was already signed up for it, even though I know I'll probably fail since I haven't studied. I just don't care anymore; my heart's not in it like it was before.

Cole has tried to be home a lot more lately and has done some of his interviews through Skype, which is pretty cool. He interviews somebody in our office room, while I watch on in our living room. As I'm dusting the desk where he sits, I spot a little post-it with my name on it. Picking it up curiously, I laugh as I read it.

B, thanks for picking up my desk! I love you, your
future
husband.

Ever since I left the hospital, he's been telling everybody that I'm his wife, and I keep correcting him. So he's decided to call himself my future husband instead. The look on people's faces when he says that term is pretty funny, but the look on his when they ask to look at my engagement ring is priceless. It always leaves him in a jam, which he gets out of fairly quickly. Usually by making up some crazy story about how we had to take it to the jeweler to resize or how I lost it while I was doing dishes.

The ringing of my phone in the other room snaps me out of my distraction and I jog to pick it up. I consider not answering when I see that Dean is calling, but figure I might as well.

"Hello?"

"Hey, chick. Long time no hear," Dean says and I hear him inhale a drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Hmm. Don't wanna talk?" Dean asks, reading my thoughts.

"Not really," I reply bluntly.

He exhales. "Nothing's up. Just wanted to check up on you. Heard you saw your dad and shit."

"Yep, that happened. Fun times," I deadpan.

He laughs. "You mad at me?"

"Nope, nothing to be mad about. I just...I don't really want to make Cole mad...again," I explain. "I know you don't get it and I know he doesn't understand our friendship, but you realize if I had to choose between you-"

"You'd pick him, I know," he offers. "Nothing wrong with that, chick. I'm just looking out for you."

I sigh. "I know."

"I heard your birthday's coming up," he says, changing the subject.

"You hear a lot of things," I reply.

"I do."

"All right, Dean, I gotta go, but maybe we can talk soon?" I ask hopefully. I just have to make sure I don't keep Cole in the dark about our conversations and I know he'll be fine with them. Baby steps, though.

"Hey," he whispers loudly before I can hang up. "I've been following Benny around, listening to his conversations, that sorta shit. You need to be careful, pay attention to your surroundings, pay attention to the people around you. Have those cops come back to talk to you?"

"Yeah, but they left me alone when I told them I really didn't remember anything," I whisper back.

"That's not why," he whispers harshly. "I can't talk right now, but be careful with those cops! And pay attention to your surroundings! I'm following him everywhere, but still. Shit, I gotta go."

"WHAT? DEAN!" I shout at the dead line.

My mouth hangs open as I stare at the blank screen. Noise coming from the other side of the door makes my eyes snap up. I make out moving shadows in the space under the door and gulp down my apprehension as I take a step closer to it. My heavy breathing accelerates when the doorknob turns a couple of times and a man mumbles a low curse. Finally reaching the peephole, I tiptoe up and lean against the door, squinting to make out the tall figure on the other side. He crouches down and sorts through a brief case before standing back up. I let out a shaky breath when our eyes meet and sag against the door before unlocking and opening it.

"What's wrong?" Cole asks with a confused look.

I shake my head. "What happened to your keys?"

"I don't know what the hell I did with them! I just had them in my hands and now I can't find them anywhere!" he replies, flustered.

I lead him inside and take in his nice business attire, navy blue pants, a white long sleeve shirt, gold tie, and a navy blue jacket hanging over his forearm. My eyes wander over his face, his defined jaw, his plump lips, his ever so slightly crooked nose, his beautiful, yet tired, green eyes, his slicked back growing hair. I trail back down his face, licking my lips at the sight of his slightly parted lips.

"Are you going to let me fuck you or are you just going to do it all on your own, standing from there?" he asks, making me smile.

"Nah, you can do it," I reply with a laugh as I wrap my arms around him before kissing him deeply.

"I missed you," he whispers against my hair as he holds me tight.

"You saw me this morning," I say with a smile.

"So?"

I shake my head and let go of him, still smiling, and walk over to the kitchen to serve our food as Cole gives me the details on his day. As I listen to him talk excitedly about the convention he's been attending in a local hotel this week, I find myself replaying my own day. All of my days are the same—I wake up, eat, read, help Aimee study most days, and wait for Cole. That's it. My life has fallen into this unexciting routine that I never imagined for myself. Everybody keeps telling me to give it time, that I can still do what I wanted to do before all of this, but I don't know if I want to. I'm not sure if I can. But what do you do when everything you've always pictured yourself doing suddenly seems stupid?

"What's wrong, babe?" Cole asks, bringing me out of my daydream.

"Nothing, why?"

He puts his fork down and wipes his mouth before holding his hands out in front of him and signaling me to give him mine, which I do.

"What's going on?" he asks, concerned as he draws circles on the backs on my hands.

My shoulders slump and I let out a breath, looking down before replying. "I just don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who I want to be or what I want to do. The whole becoming a lawyer thing seems dumb to me now. I know I can't help the people I wanted to help originally, because the people that have been wronged will always be wronged, and the system won't change that."

My eyes flutter to his, fully expecting him to be giving me an incredulous look. He surprises me by smiling at me instead. "You have time. You have the rest of your life to figure out what you want to do. I'll help you, we all will. You can still take the Bar, though. You worked hard to get to law school and you worked hard to get through it, baby. You shouldn't give up just because some bastards decided to fuck with your plans. What about social work? You can figure out how you can help kids that have been through similar things that we went through. There are a bunch of kids that get taken from their homes every day. Maybe not kidnapped, but taken away from terrible parents."

I smile as I listen to all of his suggestions, thankful that he's willing to help me find what's right for me. I don't know what I did to deserve this man in my life, but I'm glad I have him. We spend the rest of our night on the computer, researching social workers and attorneys that work with them until I decide that I am going to take the Bar exam, and I'm going to pass it.

The next morning as Cole and I shower together, he tells me about some sports gala we have to go to next week. He suggests I call Becky and talk to her about wardrobe since she's gone in the past and will be there as well. Once he leaves for the day, I start splitting up the box of memories that I have. I leave the things I actually want to remember and look at in one, and toss the things I don't care about in the other. I sort through the photos I got from Aunt Shelley and examine all of the faces carefully. I empty out one of the manila envelopes on the floor, seeing her family photos in a different light now that I know they're my family too. One by one I put them in the box of things I don't want, pausing when I hear three loud knocks on the door.

As I unfold myself from the floor, I idly wonder if it's Spencer telling me he's going to lunch. Instead I see a man wearing a fitted black T-shirt with brown scruffy hair. His hazel eyes look serious when they finally look from the floor to the peephole, and I wonder what the hell he's doing here. Opening the door slowly, I stick my head out to look around and see Spencer at the end of the hall.

"What are you doing here?" I ask with wide eyes.

"Can I come in?" he asks, tucking his hands in his pockets.

My eyes trace the black outline of the tattoo on his left arm, squinting as I try to figure out what it is. Seemingly reading my mind, he takes his hand out of his pocket and turns his arm over, giving me full view of a crest with three lions in the middle. I nod in appreciation, making him chuckle.

"I don't think Cole would like it if you and I were alone in our home," I respond.

"Don't blame him," Dean says with a shrug. "I'll be quick. I feel bad about leaving you hanging like that."

"Just talk."

"Alex freaked the fuck out after you left and when he found out what happened...what Benny did to you, Alex kicked him out," Dean starts, nodding in confirmation as my mouth drops open. "Yeah. He said he doesn't want him around, period. So I've been trailing Benny and…I dunno, Blake, I just have a really bad feeling about this shit.

"Dean, why do you work with these people? Why? You said they were family, but why?" I ask quietly.

"My mom married Jamie O'Brien when I was little, chick. I don't know anything else," he says with a shrug. "This is my life. Alex and Benny were long gone by the time I got to their house, but still...they're family."

I raise an eyebrow. "What about your sister?"