Fated by Darkness, Page 2

  Doing my best to ignore her, I continue answering questions about the last several years of my life and the terrible things that happened to me in that house. I tell the court about my drug-addicted and abusive mother, about the home my siblings and I grew up in. I tell them about my older brothers, Felix Stephorson and Ayden Gregory, and how they suffered with me. Then comes the questions about my father and his cult.

  I swallow hard. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  The lawyer offers me an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  The beginning? My stomach churns as I force myself to remember when the madness first started.

  The first time my father and his cult entered my life, I wasn’t even a teenager yet. My mother handed my brothers and me over to them because of a deal she had made with my father, and then he killed her.

  For months, he kept the three of us locked in a rotting house where we suffered through mental and physical tortures. The only thing that got me through that godawful, soul-killing time were my brothers. They were my rocks, always promising that we’d get out if I just hung on.

  Eventually, we were rescued, and I naively hoped I could go back to living my old life. However, my brothers and I were separated and put into foster care.

  Over the next couple years, I bounced through homes and spent a lot of time rebelling, hurting, and wishing I had my family. What got me through those dark days was the hope that I’d get to see my brothers again.

  That hope was yanked away when I was almost sixteen and my father showed up in my life again, stole me from the home I was living in, and locked me in the house by the lake for almost two years. He attempted to kidnap Ayden, too, but thankfully, by then, Ayden had been adopted by the Gregorys, a nice family who protected him. Felix wasn’t so lucky. Our father ended his life.

  I suck back the tears as I tell the jury about Felix. “He was kind and caring … And yes, he had his faults, but he didn’t deserve what they did to him. No one did.”

  “Did you see them hurt your brother?” the lawyer asks, pacing the length of the floor.

  “No, but I saw them …” Tears sting my eyes. “I saw them hurt others.”

  God, did I see them hurt others. Hurt everyone and everything they could get their hands on. And their fucked-up, twisted beliefs made them think it was okay, that is was what they were supposed to do.

  The pain they caused …

  The blood they shed …

  I shudder.

  I saw a lot of terrible stuff happen in that house; stuff that still messes with my head every fucking day. Night terrors and guilt are issues I struggle through constantly. But I keep most of what goes on to myself, knowing if I ever divulge the truth, I’d probably be locked up forever. And I refuse to be locked up ever again.

  I glance at the dead girl, who is still watching me. I think about what happened to her. How they tortured her, made her scream, broke her apart bit by bit. I want to blame her death on my father and the cult, but deep down, I know some of her blood is on my hands.

  The haunting smile that rises across her face chills my bones. “And now you need to make up for it.”

  How? I want to ask, but I’m not about to open my mouth in a room full of people and make myself look crazy. I need to appear level-headed and sane.

  “Sadie?” The lawyer draws my attention back to him. He has a semi-patient look on his face, as if waiting for something.

  I squirm nervously in the chair. “Um … I’m sorry. Will you repeat the question?”

  “What you’re doing … it won’t make up for what you did.” The dead girl slowly stalks toward the podium I’m sitting behind, dragging the chains bound to her wrists. “You’ll have to do more than this to erase what you did to me.”

  I keep my eyes on the lawyer and concentrate on the questions he’s asking while trying not to stammer out my responses. The entire time, I feel my father’s cold eyes on me, silently warning me to keep my lips sealed. I’ve known this day was coming for nearly two years, and I’ve prepared myself to remain strong. There’s no other choice. My father deserves to be punished for what he did to my mother, my brothers, me, and all the other people he hurt.

  “One last thing, Sadie,” the lawyer says. “The man who kidnapped you; is he here in the courtroom today?”

  The moment I’ve been waiting for, for almost two years. I’m terrified, yet I’m strong. I’m no longer that broken girl anymore.

  I look my father dead in the eye as I point my finger at him. “Yes, he’s right there. That’s the man who tried to take my life away from me.”

  3

  Sadie

  After both lawyers have finished their questioning, I’m allowed down from the podium. My father’s gaze tracks me as I cross the room and take a seat next to Lila Gregory, mine and Ayden’s adoptive mom.

  “You did well,” she whispers with a small smile.

  I’ve always found Lila’s smiles comforting, even when I’m having a shitty day. Today, though, I don’t feel as comforted. The coldness of my father’s glare and the dead girl’s presence chills me.

  “Thanks,” I whisper back. “I’m just glad it’s almost over.”

  She squeezes my hand. “Me, too. For yours and Ayden’s sake, as well as the victims’ families. I know it won’t erase everything, but I hope everyone will get a little bit of closure.”

  I internally sigh. As much as I’d love to believe that—that when the trial is over, I’ll be able to move on—I’m not sure that’ll happen. This morning I thought, maybe, just maybe, after I look my father in the eye and face the fear, I’ll be able to completely let go of the past. But the dead girl standing at the end of the row of chairs, watching me like a hawk, proves otherwise. I have an unsettling feeling her presence is going to hover over me like a violent hailstorm until I figure out what she wants.

  For the next half an hour, my father continues to glare in my direction, causing my anxiety to increasingly soar. It’s been months since I’ve felt this panicky, so by the time court’s dismissed, I’m so restless and worked up that I just want to run until my lungs explode.

  “How about we get something to eat before we head home?” Lila suggests as we push out the double doors of the courtroom and head toward the elevator, leaving the dead girl far, far behind. “We could go to that Italian place you love?”

  “I was actually thinking I’d drive over to the cemetery for a little bit. I haven’t been there in a while. And after today”—today, when old wounds were rubbed raw—“I just feel like I need to visit.”

  She grows quiet as we join about ten people on the elevator. Deep beneath my flesh, beneath my veins, hidden within my bones, the slightest sensation of panic rises as my elbows brush against others. A year ago, I would’ve fled. Now, I’m stronger and manage to stay put.

  “I can go with you, if you want,” Lila says as the elevator’s doors glide shut.

  “If it’s okay with you, I want to do this alone.” I feel bad, but with how stressful the day has been, I need some time to myself to decompress and take everything in.

  I faced the man who destroyed my life today, and I didn’t break apart. He can no longer hurt me, or put me through hell.

  It’s over.

  Over.

  As the revelation strikes me hard, tears burn my eyes.

  “Sadie.” Hesitancy fills Lila’s tone as she notices me tearing up. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to go off alone. It’s been a stressful day. I don’t want you to overdo it. Plus, I’m sure Ayden wants to spend some time with you.”

  “I know he does,” I tell her, swiping my fingers under my eyes.

  He actually wanted to come to the courthouse with me today, but I told him not to. I didn’t want him listening to me recount the horrible details of those years I spent with our father and his cult. He already blames himself for what happened to me, even though there’s no way it was his fault, and if he knew everything, I’m afraid his gui
lt would tear him apart.

  “I won’t be too long, Lila. I promise. I just want to … I don’t know, see them,” I say as we squeeze our way off the elevator. “And tell them that it’s all over.”

  I can tell she wants to argue, but in the end, she just nods. “Okay, if that’s what you need to do.”

  We leave the courthouse and make our way around the block, heading toward the carport where we parked. This morning, she tried to get us to ride together, but I needed some time to mentally prepare myself, so I asked if we could meet here.

  “Do you have enough gas to get there?” Lila asks, already reaching for her purse.

  I lift my hand, signaling for her to stop. “I’m good. I just filled it up last week, but thanks.”

  I hate it when she gives me money. With everything going on, I haven’t been able to hold a steady job. But I do work for Lila’s catering business whenever I can so I don’t feel like a total charity case.

  She sighs, zipping up her purse. “Promise me you’ll let me know as soon as you get there. And call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”

  I nod. “Okay, I will.”

  She looks worried as she turns toward her car parked a few rows away from mine.

  I climb into my car and rest my head against the steering wheel, breathing in and out. The quietness surrounds me and starts to settle my anxiety as I remind myself that it’s over. I did my part at putting them behind bars.

  The dead girl appears in the passenger seat. “It’s not over yet.”

  Shaking my head, I press my back against the door. “What do you want from me?”

  Her cold eyes bore into mine. “I already told you. I want you to make things right and make up for what you did to me.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “But I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “You didn’t?” She leans forward, her bony fingers reaching for me. “Maybe you need to be reminded, then.”

  Panic seizes my throat as I fumble for the door handle. Pushing the door open, I fall out of the car, landing on my ass.

  “You can’t run from me forever!” she shouts as I scramble to my feet and run. “You can’t run from guilt, Sadie!”

  Her words slam against my back as I sprint out of the carport and back around to the front of the courthouse. I briskly jog down the sidewalk, terrified to look behind me, fearing she’ll be there. With each step, frustration and anger builds, pressing, pressing, pressing against my chest. Guilt, rage, hate, it fuels me with too much energy. I just can’t figure out what I’m guilty and angry over.

  My heart achingly hammers as my heels scuff against the concrete. When I reach the curb, I veer right and sprint for the corner of the street. Stores and restaurants pass by in a blur as sunlight spills over me and sweat drenches my skin. I’m exhausted, my limbs and lungs throb, but I refuse to stop. I refuse to go backward. I worked too hard to get where I am, and I won’t let the dead girl pull me back.

  Seeing the girl … It has to be from the stress. Yeah, that’s what it is. And tomorrow, everything will go back to normal.

  I run like a mad woman for at least a couple of miles before my legs about give out on me. Then I slow to a stop in front of a corner shop and hunch over, bracing my hands on my knees. I breathe in and out, in and out, catching my breath before standing upright. I feel a tiny bit better, my mind less crammed and overworked.

  I scan the sea of faces around me, searching for the dead girl in their midst.

  “She’s gone,” I breathe in relief.

  “You really think so?” she whispers from somewhere close.

  “Why won’t you leave me alone?” I spin in a circle, desperately searching for her. “Please, leave me alone.”

  “Not yet.”

  Two very ominous words that send a deadly cold shiver up my spine.

  “Sadie?” someone says from behind me.

  I whirl around, half-expecting the dead girl to be standing there. But it’s only Sage Davis, the drummer in Ayden’s band, Alyric Bliss.

  I’ve known Sage for almost two years, ever since I moved in with the Gregorys. I know him well enough that his presence brings me a tiny bit of comfort. Still, he makes me nervous. Not in a terrified, he’s-gonna-hurt-me kind of way, but a holy-shit-he’s-so-stinking-gorgeous-I-can’t-stop-staring-at-him.

  Tall and lean with crazy blue hair, countless facial piercings and tattoos, he drips sexiness and radiates confidence from the way he looks to how he carries himself. While he’s been nothing but nice to me, I find his confidence unnerving, mostly because I don’t know how to handle it.

  “You scared me,” I tell him once my heart has chilled the eff out. But the dead girl’s words remain inside of me, stirring like an uncontrolled beast. All I want to do is pick up where I left off and run until I’m convinced she can’t find me.

  “Yeah, I can see that.” His gaze flicks up and down my body before his eyes land on my face. Then he really looks at me. “Why’re you all dressed up? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s cute and everything, in that whole sexy librarian way, but it’s definitely different from how you normally dress.”

  God, I loathe when he looks at me like that, as if he can see my secrets carved on my skin. Yet, the tiniest part of me soaks up the attention. Wants it. Seeks more.

  I spent years hating when guys paid attention to me, and then part of me suddenly likes it. It’s all very confusing, loathing, and lusting at the same time.

  “You okay?” Sage asks with a semi-amused smile on his face.

  I realize I’ve zoned out and am gawking at him now. I clear my throat and smooth my hands across the plaid pencil skirt and white button shirt I’m wearing, forcing a smile. “I had to go to court today, and I didn’t think my normal cut-offs and T-shirts would be appropriate. I actually just got out.”

  His amusement goes poof as worry replaces it. He scratches his head. “Shit, Sadie, I’m so sorry. Here I am teasing you when I should be asking if you’re okay.”

  “It’s okay. It’ not your fault, and I’m sure you didn’t even know it was today, unless Ayden told you, but he hardly tells anyone anything. Well, other than maybe Lyric. He tells her everything, but that’s because he loves her.” I take a deep breath, mentally cursing myself. How the hell did I go from talking about the trial to talking about Ayden and Lyric being in love?

  “Yeah, I know.” He seems mildly amused, but for some reason, I don’t think it has anything to do with Lyric and Ayden being in love and more do to with my moronic rambling.

  Lyric Scott is Ayden’s girlfriend. The two of them are so interwoven they’re practically inseparable. Their love could never be viewed as funny. In fact, most people probably envy it. Hell, I envy it and wish I could one day find my other half. Although, if I ever did fall for a guy, and he did reciprocate my feelings, I can’t see myself being able to have a physical relationship with him. The trust I’d have to put in that person … to kiss me … to touch me … Yes, I want it, but it seems unreachable, especially with the dead girl whispering in my ear.

  “I knew it was today, though,” Sage admits, his expression laced with guilt.

  “How?” I ask in confusion.

  He massages the back of his neck tensely. “The papers.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Goddamn the papers. Thanks to the trial making headlines, almost everyone knows mine and Ayden’s story.

  “You could’ve told me that it was today,” Sage says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I meant what I said the other night.”

  The other night. Shit. Through all the chaos, I forgot about the other night. How Sage and I had a little heart-to-heart after band practice, something I go to often just to watch, relax, and spend a little extra time with my brother.

  Nolan, Ayden, and Lyric had wandered off somewhere, and Sage and I were hanging out on the sofa. I drank a little too much, mostly because I psyched myself out over the approaching trial and just wanted a few goddamn hours without having to worry about
getting on the stand. I was babbling Sage’s ear off about God knows what—how I’m moving out of the Gregorys’ house, and how scared I am about it, how scary life is. I barely remember the specifics, only that I talked more than I normally do.

  I started to talk about the trial, but then I trailed off. I must have had a strange look on my face because Sage placed his hand over mine.

  “Sadie, I know you don’t know me very well,” he said, molding his hand around mine. “But if you ever need to talk, I can be an awesome listener.”

  It felt like I should slip my hand out from under his, but my reasoning was a little hazy. “I usually only talk to Ayden about my problems. He’s been busy, though, with that … um, thing for Lyric.” I bit my tongue. “Sorry, I’m not sure I’m supposed to say anything about that.”

  He glanced down at his hand over mine, seeming surprised that it was still there, but he didn’t pull away. “You mean the ring he’s buying her?”

  “Hey, how do you know about that?” I playfully swatted his arm with my free hand, then blinked when I saw three of my hands.

  “I helped him pick it out.” He grazed his fingers across the back of my hand, eliciting a shiver from me. Then his lips quirked, like he was totally enjoying my reaction, yet I couldn’t figure out why. I mean, I knew Sage was a flirt, but he never flirted with me. Not ever.

  “Really? So, you got to see it? The ring, I mean?” I asked, and he nodded. “Is it pretty?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know. I guess. Jewelry isn’t really my thing.”

  When I purposely eyed the piercings in his brows, he gave me a look.

  “These are different.” He fiddled with one of the barbells in his brows then flicked his tongue ring against his teeth. “These aren’t pretty, little diamonds.”

  “Ha! So you do think diamonds are pretty!” I pointed a finger at him and laughed.

  He leaned in and assessed my face closely. “Wait? Are you drunk?”

  I held my finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe just a little.”