Darkness Before Dawn Part 12

I sit in the couch across from his and curl my feet beneath me before I click the b.u.t.ton on his phone to turn it back on and continue staring at the picture of the smiley blond boy with brown eyes.

"So?" I ask expectantly.

"You can scroll through them, by the way. I don't have any naked pictures on there or anything," he says and laughs when he sees my horrified face.

"You're such a clown. Continue-I believe you were about to tell me why it is that you're not with the beautiful woman in the pictures."

Connor rolls his eyes. "There's not much to it, I guess. Sandra and I were high school sweethearts, got married right after graduation, had a kid two years later and separated a year and a half after that." He adds a shrug for good measure to try to bore me or keep his story as nonchalant as possible, but I'm not going to let it go.

"Huh. So why the separation part? You're not legally divorced?"

"Nah, divorces cost money."

"Your uncle is an attorney, a.s.s-wipe. Save the bulls.h.i.+t for someone who buys it. What happened?" I press.

"d.a.m.n, you're nosey! Nothing really happened!" he exclaims. "What happened with you and Cole? From what I hear you guys weren't together for what? Like seven years?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Yeah, that was different, Cole's an idiot."

"And you're not?" he asks with a sarcastic laugh.

"Stop trying to change the subject," I mutter, trying to fight a smile.

The side of his mouth turns up a little more and his eyes grow sad. "You know when you love someone so much that you make them miserable? You push them away any chance you get because you know they can do better than you. It kills you, but you do it anyway...because you know, you just know that they can't possibly be happy with you. That they'll figure out at some point that you're a piece of s.h.i.+t and they're so much better and they'll leave you anyway?" I nod slowly, blinking back tears.

"Well, that's what happened. And now I can't get her back."

The tears I was trying to blink back begin to run down my face and I wipe them quickly as Connor looks at me, his own eyes clouding. He clears his throat loudly.

"I told her I didn't love her anymore...like that," he continues. "f.u.c.king ripped my heart open, but I had to."

"Wow," I say, my voice barely audible. "That's messed up. You're worse than I am."

He nods. "I'm worse than a lot of people are, Blake."

"You're not. The big guys never are," I say, shaking my head and offering a smile, making him smile back. "So are you still in love with her?"

"Always have been, always will be. She knows that too. She let me walk away because she was hurt and hurt more with what I told her...but she's not stupid. She knows she has my heart forever."

"Do you think love conquers all?" I ask quietly.

"I hope so. If it doesn't, we're all doomed," he replies seriously.

My phone chirps while I'm was.h.i.+ng the dishes and I lean over to look at the screen.

Cole: I miss you.

I smile at the screen and wipe my hands to respond.

Me: I miss you more. Thinking of going to Mark's.

Cole: Be careful.

Me: Taking Connor.

Cole: Be careful.

Me: I got that part.

Cole: K I love you. See you later.

Me: Love you too.

I smile at the screen for a couple of seconds before I shuffle off to my room.

"Con, I'm going to Mark's. Wanna come?" I ask once I'm dressed in presentable clothes.

"I guess. He know we're going?" he asks with scrunched eyebrows.

"Nope. Figured we can show up and sneak in there in between his meetings. I have to get some papers he owes me from a while back anyway," I say with a shrug. He agrees and helps me finish cleaning up before we head out.

We have Bruce and Spencer meet us downstairs and make the drive to Mark's office, but when we get there, Connor says that he can't go inside. I give him a confused look and he explains that n.o.body can know that he's Mark's nephew because "s.h.i.+t will get ugly", his words. I contemplate heading back home, but Connor a.s.sures me that he doesn't mind waiting in the car with Bruce while Spencer goes inside with me. I shrug off my worry and head up to Mark's office with Spencer on my tail. Everything about this place is so familiar; it's oddly comforting, all things considered. Once we reach the firm's lobby on the eighteenth floor, I see one of the Barbies behind the desk. She sees me and her smile goes from brilliant to snarl before it fixes on fake.

"Hmm. Miss. Brennan, do you have an appointment?" she asks, clearly annoyed. I'm taken aback by her att.i.tude, she's never been nice to me but this is just...weird.

"No, I don't. Do you think you can squeeze me in between appointments?" I ask, watching her expression sour suddenly. Before she can answer me, the door that leads to the offices opens and Mark and a couple of men in business suits walk into the lobby. They're all so lost in conversation that they don't look around or notice me. One of them is an older man with salt and pepper hair that looks familiar, but I can't place him. As I study his face, my phone vibrates with a message in my purse.

Connor: Abort mission. I have to get home ASAP.

I look at the message for a couple of seconds before I reply.

Me: Abort mission? Lol I'll be quick. He's already out here.

Connor: Alone?

Me: No. Saying bye to clients.

I stay staring at the phone, but his reply never comes, so I put it away and look up. The men are still talking and I decide to walk a little closer to make my presence known to Mark. Both of his clients are wearing black suits and have serious yet easygoing expressions on their faces as they speak. The other man is probably in his fifties and has brown hair and light brown eyes, he has a laid back smile that I find myself entranced with. I don't realize how close I've walked to them until the three of them turn their heads to face me.

When they see me, it's as if time stops. Suddenly the chatter, the ringing phone, the elevator ding, the closing and opening of doors-everything is muted except for my harsh breathing. I stare wide-eyed, first at the older man that has eyes so similar to mine, I feel like I'm looking at myself. Then at the younger man, who now looks so familiar, but I cannot figure out where I know him. I search my mind through all of the catalogs of faces that I have stored and come up short, yet I know him. Last, I look at Mark, whose face has gone completely pale. The loud ding of the elevator and a large male form running toward me makes me take a defensive step back and look at Connor, who is running at me full speed.

"f.u.c.k," he says, breathing heavily and holding onto his knees. "f.u.c.k."

I stare at him willing myself to speak, to ask, to demand, but produce nothing.

Nothing.

I feel my body temperature drop and the walls start to close in on me as I place my hand over my chest and begin to loudly gasp for air. I blink away the tiny white dots that my vision produces before I feel Connor or Mark or one of the men, somebody begins to move me. They walk with me before I completely black out.

"How could you not f.u.c.king tell me?" a man shouts angrily. "I can't f.u.c.king believe-" his voice trails off before he begins to wail loudly.

When my eyes flutter open, I see Connor's concerned baby blues as he squeezes my hand.

"Sorry, B," he whispers, not giving him a chance to explain why before the brown haired man launches himself at us, falling to his knees beside me and Connor. He awkwardly pulls me into his arms and presses my face to his chest as he cries openly, loudly. I stare at Connor, with saucer wide eyes, not quite understanding his emotion.

"Liam, let the girl go, you're scaring her," says the old man in a gruff, smoky voice.

The man loosens his hold on me and holds me at arms' distance as he examines my face. His face and eyes are wet with tears and they continue to flow freely before he lets out a sob. He drops his hands from my arms and wipes his face with the backs of them.

"Sorry," he says with a sniffle. "I didn't mean to scare you, it's just-" his voice breaks before he begins to cry again. For a moment I hear no sound except for the pitter-patter of my heartbeat. And then I see, feel, hear the pain that the man before me is bearing. And even though I don't know him, even though I haven't seen him in an eternity, locked memories flood my mind. Memories of that smile, those eyes, that voice, that smell. Especially that smell. He smells like a rainy day, he smells of home, or what I considered home many moons ago.

Sorrow bubbles deep in my stomach as I stare at the man who was once my father. And even though I've always imagined what it would be like if I ever saw him again, this doesn't add up. In my lifetime, I've pictured millions of scenarios in which I'd run into his arms laughing and crying of happiness. Where he would go to Maggie's house and find me sitting in my room listening to music or show up after school and announce that he'd searched high and low until he found me. It's not that I wanted our reunion to be deemed good enough to be featured on an episode of Oprah, but I expected to feel...something. Something happy. Something hopeful. All I feel is blank. And sadness. Bleak sadness. What a f.u.c.king thing to feel when you're looking in the eyes of the person who helped create you.

Somebody clears their throat and I tear my eyes away from Liam's to look up at Mark who is watching me carefully, with sadness in his own eyes. The old man standing beside him has unshed tears in his own eyes and from how much he looks like Mark, there's not much of a question that they're related. Then again, I know who he is, and I know he's my grandfather. I stand up on wobbly legs, and am thankful when Connor helps steady me by holding my arm.

"I...I have to go," I say in a hushed, hoa.r.s.e voice. "I can't-" I don't even finish the sentence before I dash out of the room, holding my empty sobs inside. When I make it to the elevator I press down on the b.u.t.ton furiously and cross my arms while I wait. I see Spencer from the corner of my eye, but refuse to look around me. I don't want anything to trigger my impending tears.

"Tell Cole I say hi, Miss Brennan," says a chirpy, annoying voice behind me. I instinctively turn around with my eyes narrowed and look at Skipper the b.i.t.c.h.

"What?" I seethe as my heart starts skipping beats and my ears start steaming.

She smirks. "Tell him I had a blast with him at the bar a couple of weeks ago. Wouldn't mind a repeat of us sneaking off alone together," she says with a wink as the elevator chimes and its doors open behind me. I feel my jaw working as I glare at her with her fake nose and her short blond perfect bob, and her low-cut blouse and too tight pencil gray skirt. I nod once sharply before turning around and stomping into the elevator. I don't have the energy or time to reply to her and I don't have to. Connor runs into the elevator and steps inside next to me, holding the door open as he too glares at Skipper. Her smile falters when she sees the angry look on his face.

"n.o.body wants to f.u.c.k you, gold digging s.l.u.t!" Connor states angrily before dropping his hand and letting the doors close in front of us, leaving her with a shocked expression on her face.

"I hate stupid b.i.t.c.hes," he mutters under his breath.

In spite of everything, a soft giggle escapes me right before I start to ugly cry. Connor wraps his arm around me and pulls me into the side of his chest and lets me without saying a word.

When we make it back to my apartment, I text message Aubry asking him to come over. I'm still shocked and reeling over seeing my father, my long lost father for the first time that way. And as petty as fake Barbie's accusation is, my chest physically aches from the idea she insinuated. In spite of everything I experienced today, her words are the ones I keep on replaying. Unwanted flashbacks of Sasha, Cole's mistake in high school and then college, seep into my mind every time I picture fake Barbie's proud face. I close my eyes and am transported back to the college party and hear Sasha's moans of desire behind that door, making my stomach weaken. Aubry's responding text message snaps me out of the reverie.

Aubry: @ work. U OK?

Me: No. Need you.

Seconds after I hit reply, my phone rings and I see Aubry's curly blond hair and smiling blue eyes as his incoming call flashes my screen.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"What's wrong, Cowboy?" he asks anxiously.

A broken sob escapes me before I can reply. "Can you leave work? I'm sorry."

"Oh my G.o.d. What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. I just...I need someone..."

"Is Connor there?" he asks desperately.

"Yeah, but I need someone I know," I whisper brokenly.

He exhales into the line. "I'll be right there."

"I'm sorry," I repeat, hating that I'm having a weak moment.

Connor makes a few calls and announces that he doesn't have to work tonight, whatever work means to him. I excuse myself, letting him know he's welcome to stay as long as he wants, but that I need to lie down for a while. I contemplate calling Becky, but I don't want to get her worked up, and I don't want to call Aimee because she's too close to Cole in all of this and it'll just make me angrier at him. I start scrolling through my phone and hover over a familiar name before hitting send.

"h.e.l.lo?" he answers in a confused tone.

"Hey."

"Hey back. What's up, chick?" he asks, and I can tell he's smiling.

"Not much, yet everything. How does that happen?"

He laughs. "I don't know, you tell me."

"I don't know either," I reply as a small smile touches my lips.

"You had a s.h.i.+t day, huh?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

He laughs again. "Nice conversation."

"It's perfect."

We continue our mindless banter back and forth for a while before he tells me he needs to go. By the time Aubry knocks on my door, I don't feel the urge to cry anymore. Instead, I sit up on the bed with my legs crossed and smile sadly at him. He eyes me curiously and walks over to me, unfastening his purple tie in the process. Once he sits down in front of me, I replay my entire day for him and am surprised to find that I don't shed a tear.

"s.h.i.+t, Cowboy. What a f.u.c.king day," Aubry says, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "Wanna get f.u.c.ked up?"

"h.e.l.l yes."

Drinking with Aubry is always fun, and drinking with Aubry while we listen to hip hop is hilarious. He always gets in a zone and pulls out all the cards, singing everything that blares through the speakers. Connor and I watch on, doubling in laughter, as Aubry untucks his s.h.i.+rt and starts walking around like a G, his words. Around seven o'clock Aimee joins us, thankfully bringing us pizza as we continue to drink. We're in tears as Aubry does his best Nelly impersonation with Greg on speakerphone.

"You're the blackest white guy I know, dude, that's for d.a.m.n sure," Greg says, laughing into the phone.

The five of us fall into a fit of laughter, theirs dying out before Aubry and mine. Greg hangs up the phone and Aimee announces that she has to get home soon.

"But you just got here," I whine annoyingly, immediately cringing at how needy my voice sounds.

"I know, Blakey, but I have to study," she replies softly.

"Ugh. The Bar," I groan. "I don't even know what I'm going to do anymore."