Chapter 24
Luke
“Any plans for this weekend?” I ask as Emily and I walk out of the office together. It’s hard, but I’m trying… to do what exactly I don’t know, but I’m trying.
“I’m looking at a few apartments again.”
“The other ones didn’t work out?”
“No.”
She doesn’t elaborate on the reason, but my guess is it would have something to do with the security of the building or the apartment itself. I went through the same thing when Alec and I decided to move out of here. I must have looked at dozens of apartments, but none were as secure as I needed. When you have your sense of safety ripped away from you the way we did, it makes it very difficult to ever feel safe again. Ultimately it’s the reason I chose to build my own house, it was the only way to guarantee the security.
“You’ll find something.”
“I’m sure I will, but for now, the hotel works.” She shrugs.
“I’ll see you Monday.”
“Night, Luke.”
It’s been more than a month since I learned the truth about who Emily really is. Since the day she arrived at my house, we haven’t discussed it again. We just sort of ignore the fact that we know each other on levels most people don’t. Despite that, I find myself watching her at different times during the day when she isn’t paying attention to me. It’s still so hard to believe that the woman sitting in my office is the same girl I held after so many nightmares.
So, we ignore it. I’m sure it’s not the best solution, but for now, it works. I no longer feel like I need to ignore her at the office, more so we just ignore the history we have. What I don’t ignore is the sudden need to talk to her, to see her, to be closer to her and at times, to touch her. I find myself seeking her our more and more often than I did before, something I struggle to understand.
It’s late by the time I get home, but because of the multiple security systems I have installed at my house, the moment I turn the alarm off the place lights up. Just as Emily has her quirks from what happened, I have my own – I’ve just learned to hide them better than she has. Hiding those little quirks was the only thing that got me through the group homes. You can only get kicked out of so many homes for decking kids when they stare at you or make jokes about what you’re doing. As if any of them could have gone through what we went through without some effect. Walking into a pitch dark house is one big trigger of mine. Not only is the lighting linked to the security system, but I also have the entire house hooked up to a generator so that if the power ever goes out, I won’t be left in the dark. Even when I go to bed at night, there is always a light coming from somewhere. I can’t stomach the idea of being trapped in complete darkness again.
It’s the rare occasion that sleep finds me quickly, however, like most nights, it doesn’t take long for me to be dragged back to that prison.
“What was your favorite subject at school?”
“None…I hated school.”
We’re back to playing twenty questions, something Em has started doing recently. I’ve noticed she hates the silence probably more than she hates the dark. She seems to have this constant need to talk; I swear I’ve learned more about her in the past week then I’ve ever known about anyone.
“You hated it?” She acts like it’s some big crime to hate school.
“When you move around as much as I do…did, you’re always the new kid in the class. Do you have any idea how hard it is to adjust to a new school every few months?”
“They moved you around that often?”
“Sometimes. I think the longest home I was in was for about seven months. Sometimes you stay in the same school district but have to change buildings. It’s a pain in the ass. Besides, I stopped going a few weeks before…”
“You stopped going? Why?”
“I ran away from the last foster home I was in. I thought living on the streets would be better.”
“Is that when…?”
“Yeah…not at first, though. It took a little while, but I found an old, abandoned row home that a few other people were staying in. I think the one guy took pity on me because just as the others were going to kick me out he convinced them to let me stay.”
“What happened? How did he...get you?”
“I would do odd jobs whenever possible to earn some money for food. I knew it wasn’t without risk, but I couldn’t go back to that foster home. Even if I managed to convince them to send me somewhere else, who knew if that one would be any better?”
“Luke…”
“There was always someone looking for help who would look the other way at my age and pay me cash under the table. One day, a guy asked me to deliver a package to an address. It wasn’t the first time I had done it, and I knew chances were high that there were drugs in it, but I didn’t care because he paid well. This time, though, he sent me to a different area. I was just about to knock on the warehouse door when someone grabbed me from behind. I never saw his face…He dragged me into a van and injected me with something before I could even scream.”
“They worked together,” she realizes. “Him and the guy who gave you the package.”
“I think so, because looking back there was no one in the warehouse. The parking lot was empty, and there was no sign that anyone had been there in a long time. I think he was waiting for me.”
“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It is what it is, Em. Can’t do anything about it now.”
I wake up, immediately searching out the dim light coming from the bathroom. Twenty-six fucking years old and I still have to sleep with a damn nightlight. I’ve tried to make do without it, but the light is the only thing that can calm me after a nightmare. It’s the only thing that forces me to realize I’m not trapped in that dungeon again. Dungeon, prison, worst nightmare…none of those words are adequate to describe what that place was to me…to us.
I take a quick shower and toss on a pair of sweats before heading outside. The sun is barely on the horizon, but it’s light enough for me to see, which is all that matters. I set the alarm on the house before taking off. I’d like to say I don’t run often, but the worn path I follow says a different story. Some nights the gym is enough to distract me, but some nights I need to feel the fresh air on my face to rid myself of the memories.
The nightmare wasn’t that bad, not compared to the others, but it makes me think of everything that happened there. Some days that means thinking about Em and other days, like now, it means remembering everything. I made Em promise when we walked into the hospital that she wouldn’t say a word about what had happened that night. I didn’t need to explain what night I was talking about—she knew. She tried to convince me that I should tell someone, but I refused. Though from the questions they asked, the doctors knew what had happened while I was held there all those months.
I shudder as the memories flood me, forcing me to stop and empty my stomach only a few minutes later. I chug the bottle of water I brought with me and push on. The cool morning air and the trees blowing in the wind help to keep me in the present. By the time I complete the long path through the forest, I’m finally in a better mindset than I was when I left the house. I take a quick shower before heading into my home office to review some files. I have a few projects I want to work on around here later, but for now, I’m diving into work.