Chapter Thirty
We all spring to our feet- my parents in alarm, me in anger. Though only a trickle of sunlight illuminates the room from between the curtains, I can clearly see the worry etched in their faces. They do not fear that someone has come here to hurt us, immobilizing us by breaking the bulbs. They are afraid of me. I caused the sudden darkness. The violent ripples of rage rolling off of me have caused the light bulbs to explode right before us. I try to loosen my tight fists and control the tremors ripping through me. I don’t mean to frighten them. I didn’t even know I was capable of this.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…mean to,” I stammer between clenched teeth, shaking my head stiffly. I try to take deep breaths in order to calm myself. I begin to feel the tension dissipate from my shoulders as I will myself to relax.
“I know, honey,” Donna replies meekly. She understands what has happened here though I’m not entirely sure myself.
Though fear has momentarily gripped her, my mom cautiously advances towards me and slowly places her hand on my shoulder. Chris is more hesitant and has not dropped his defensive stance, though his startled expression has grown softer. He approaches inch by inch with measured steps. My parents are afraid of me and what I will do. It’s as if I am a wild animal- unpredictable, vicious, dangerous. The revelation stops me up short and I completely release the fury that has resulted in their trepidation.
I swallow loudly, though my mouth is dry. “I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know how I did that.” My head drops to the floor in shame.
“I know. I know, dear,” my mom repeats, patting my back. She’s trying to comfort me but I know she is uncomfortable just touching me. It pains me to know that I am solely responsible for her terror.
“Have a seat, Kiddo. Let’s just try to calm down and talk about this,” Chris says, ushering his wife to the love seat, away from me. He is protecting her from me just in case I lose it again, as he should.
I take the seat farthest from them, tucking my hands between my knees. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I just got so angry. How did this get here?” I say nodding towards the letter still lying on the coffee table. Donna stands to open the curtains to let the sunlight brighten the room and the mood.
“It was in our mailbox yesterday morning. It wasn’t addressed or anything, just in a blank envelope. We tried to call you; didn’t you get any of our messages or texts?” Chris asks.
I shake my head, not recalling any missed calls or voicemail, though I haven’t actually been paying much attention to my cell phone. I know I looked at it earlier that morning and it didn’t indicate any messages.
“Humph. That’s strange,” he murmurs, rubbing his temples. He looks like he’s aged within the past 5 minutes.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, you know,” I say quietly. “I tried to keep this under control, tried to handle this stuff on my own. I never thought they’d send something here.”
“What do you mean?” Chris questions. “You’ve received other notes? And didn’t tell us?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I started getting random messages a few weeks ago. My car, my phone.” I leave out the mysterious voice in the Breckenridge nightclub. They would lock me up and never let me leave the house for sure.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donna chimes in. She comes to sit beside me, despite Chris’s rigid posture and flexed jaw. He’s still on edge.
“And then what? What could you possibly do?” I ask incredulously, looking between the both of them. “Besides worry yourselves to death about something or someone we couldn’t possibly fight?” I feel a wave of fresh anger begin to wash over me and I immediately start a series of deep breaths.
“We could’ve been there for you. You’re a strong girl; we know that. But you can’t keep taking things on alone. Everyone needs support.” My mom wraps a warm arm around me and squeezes gently. Chris nods in agreement.
I shake my head in exasperation and shrug out of my mom’s embrace, standing to my feet. “I wish that were true, but I won’t put you two in danger. Not after all you have already risked in order to keep me safe. It’s final; I’m moving out in a couple weeks. I’ll stay through graduation but that’s it.”
I begin to make my way to my room when Chris’s voice stops me up short. “Is there anything we can do to change your mind?”
I turn to look at him through watery eyes. He looks so solemn, so weary. Because of me. I shake my head. “Just be here.”
I grab my bag and retreat to the solace of my childhood bedroom. Now I wish I would have just gone to the Broadmoor with Dorian to escape this fiasco. It’s bad enough that the Dark have resorted to delivering threats to our home, but the fact that I’ve frightened my parents is unforgivable. I can’t even begin to comprehend how I caused those bulbs to break. Could I be a danger to them? And to other innocent people? Is anyone truly safe around me?
Under normal circumstances, I would call Jared and drown my sorrows in cold beer and curly fries, but now that our friendship has done a complete 180, there’s no one I would rather see than Dorian. I pick up my cell phone and scroll down to retrieve his number. No. I shouldn’t. While he may be an effective distraction, things have been getting a bit too precarious between us. I’m in love with him, I can’t deny that. But can I trust him? And even if I can’t, can I really turn away from him after falling for him so hard?
I toss my phone onto my bed and sigh loudly. Until I know for sure that Dorian has my best interests at heart, I have to be smart. I have to ask him. Time to put my big girl panties on and face the giant elephant that’s been suffocating me with its annoying presence. This is a conversation that can’t be had over the phone. No, I have to look him in his mesmerizing ice blue eyes when I ask him to tell me what he is. And whatever that truth may be, I have to either deal with it and accept him wholeheartedly, or I have to walk away from the one man who has shown me more passion than I could ever imagine. The outcome may crush my heart and kill my spirit completely but continuing down this path of denial could very well get us both murdered.
As the week drones on, I engulf myself with studying for finals and tying up loose ends at work before resigning. My parents are more attentive than ever, calling and checking up on me every other hour. Lucky for them, I’m taking the threats more seriously now that it has literally hit home. Plus I want to ensure them that I am still the same old Gabs, and have been making more of an effort to spend time with them. Seeing them so afraid of me was eye-opening. I never want them to experience that type of fear again.
The bright spot of the past few days was seeing Dorian each evening during my break at work. He’d meet me at our little table at Starbucks, his sexy smirk, my favorite latte, and an espresso brownie in tow. Knowing that a mall coffee shop is the last place to have such a crucial, delicate conversation, I’ve planned to broach the subject Saturday night after Morgan’s party. I still don’t know how to even word it and couldn’t imagine just simply asking him out of the blue. And what if my suspicions are wrong? What if he laughs in my face? Not to mention, it would surely indicate my true identity. I only have two days to figure it out, and though I’ve been racking my brain, there just doesn’t seem to be a tactful way to present such a sensitive subject.
Since it’s Thursday night and I usually head over to Dorian’s suite after work, I feel oddly out of place sitting on the couch watching television with my parents. It used to be a nightly ritual for us, yet now I feel like an outsider, an intruder in their home. I could have gone to Dorian’s place but then I would have to explain where I was and who I was with, and being that they will see Morgan’s parents this weekend, I can’t risk any holes in my alibi. No, the comfort and safety of Dorian’s arms will have to wait another 48 hours. Sigh.
“That is a beautiful necklace, Gabi,” my mom remarks during a commercial break.
My eyes shift down. Shit. I must’ve been unconsciously fiddling with it while thinking about Dorian. I had been making an effort to keep it tucked away in my shirt while at home to avoid questioning.
“Thanks,” I smile. “Got it up at Breckenridge.” At least I didn’t have to lie. “Hey, guys, I’m beat. I think I’m going to call it a night,” I say to evade any further inspection.
“Ok, dear. You get some rest,” my mom smiles at me. I can tell she’s more relaxed since I’ve been spending more evenings at home.
“Goodnight, Kiddo,” Chris adds. I hate disappointing him and I can tell that he sees me in a different light since Sunday’s incident. Just another indication that it’s time to move out.
After a quick shower, I realize that I really am exhausted. Actually giving a damn about my GPA and worrying about Dorian’s admission has really taken a toll on me. I brush my teeth and throw on my favorite flannel pajamas, a welcomed change from the lace and satin numbers Dorian purchased for me. Sneaking the lingerie into my parent’s house would have proven to be a feat so I opted to just keep them at the Broadmoor where Dorian could enjoy ripping the scanty pieces off me at his leisure. I just hope he still wants to after I reveal what I am. Trying to shake the creeping feelings of doubt and anxiety in my head, I climb into bed, turn on some soothing, soft music, and quickly fall into a dreamless slumber.