Page 41 of Dissension

“Don’t give me more nightmare fuel, I have enough of that in my life,” Kara says without much mirth. Her past provides enough horrors for countless eternities.

After a moment, Nick says, “You should stop digging into this case. You’re going to get wrapped up in something you really want no part of.”

The sound of it rings wrong. Kara’s brow shifts. Why does he keep warning her off this? Is her worst nightmare true? Is he involved, just trying to keep her nose out of it? “Is that a hidden threat?”

“No.” He sounds resigned and suddenly very tired. “It’s a strong suggestion. And a warning. Someone is watching what you’re digging into. And they probably aren’t good people, Kara.”

The line goes dead in Kara’s hand, leaving her staring out into the dark, wondering what dangers are lurking, wrapped around this case regarding Paxton Brooker and The Room…and maybe Nicholas Havenwood-Calais.

Chapter 17

She’s in the long stretch of field that stands in front of her childhood home. The tall grass swaying to and fro in the waning daylight. The breeze tugs at her wild hair, blowing it over her black eye as she shuffles towards home. A sense of unwillingness rots in her bones, each step echoing with reluctance.

Her home isn’t much. Two stories, a roof that has seen better days, and a front porch with a ragged swing. The horizon spreads beyond the lonely home, fields and fields. The road is close by and the drive to their small town center is at about ten minutes.

A figure awaits her, making her chest feel tight with anxiety. She has no choice; she must return. Hiding out in the field won’t earn her any points. Besides, he already got her good with his mean right hook, what more can he truly do?

Perhaps his anger has cooled. Numbly, she walks her way through the tall grass as if going to her executioner.

On the front porch, Charlie Hayes sits on the wooden swing, eyes like the abyss itself. Watching and waiting just for her. He doesn’t speak a single word, that temper boiling just under the surface. Kara can practically feel it burning against her flesh. He is violence barely contained.

The memory doesn’t continue as Kara recalls it happening. The way he took off his belt and told her to go inside. The stinging pain, the sound of the belt landing on the small of her back, the way she bit her lip to not give him the satisfaction of her crying out-

It doesn’t happen. Instead, he stands and comes at her with those ominous, rage-filled eyes. He grabs her wrist in abruising fashion, so tight that the bones must be crunching together. He leans down close as she trembles with fear, because this never happened, this isn’t real-

Charlie’s voice is a low chocolate menace. “When do you plan on coming home, Kara? You know I miss you. You’ve been hiding.”

Her eyes open and instinctively she lifts a hand to her face, to feel if her eye is as swollen as it felt in her dream. It’s not; a small relief. At least her dream didn’t go to the part where he whipped her back with that damn belt of his. To how her mother made herself scarce.

Kara bites back a sound of dismay, trying to erase the dream from memory.

You’ve been hiding.

She knows what her mind is telling her. Her father called her when it was made known he was being investigated for embezzlement. He wanted her to come to him, to bail him out of trouble, just due to the fact of him being her father. Instead, Gale was able to take that on for representation and has been handling the bits and pieces for the past few months.

It hasn’t gone forward yet, but Kara knows her father has asked for her to come to him. She hasn’t. Can’t bring herself to face the man that so changed her life. The man who caused the death of her mother, the man who played his wife and daughter against each other, the man who ruined her ability to love like a normal human being.

I hate you, she finds herself thinking as she sits in the center of her bed, head bowing as she blinks back tears.I hate you for what you did to me. I hate you for never loving me the way you should have.

Her mind is a mess as her heart pounds, unable to come down from the nightmare, the ugly memory lurking in her mind. Charlie Hayes is the monster that made her into this twisted thing, this young woman incapable of finding normal love.

Every time she found a healthy relationship, she found a way to poison it, to make it feel like something shedeserved.

Hating the sorrow and self-loathing in her breast, Kara rolls over to grab her phone off the nightstand, suddenly wishing to speak to someone who might just understand. There’s only one man that can, only one man who knows what lies behind her mask.

She dials the unknown number in her phone, the one she still knows even if no name is attached to it. After a few rings, he eventually picks up, much to her relief. His voice is thick with sleep as he says, “Twice in one night? I imagine this must be a misdial. I don’t believe for one second that I’m the man you think of in the middle of the night when you have a bad dream. You’re not that weak.”

There’s a sob caught in her throat; her emotions are raw after re-living that horrible memory, knowing exactly where it led in real life. “You’d be surprised. Maybe you’re the only one I can think of to call when I have nightmares.”

Silence falls for a painfully awkward moment as he digests her words, the tremble in her voice.

“Oh. You’re actually serious,” Nick says with a hint of surprise leaking into his perfectly controlled tone. The way he usually hides his emotions so completely. “You calledme.” He seems dumbfounded by this. Kara supposes that makes sense, considering all the fighting they’ve been doing, but doesn’t he understand? He’s seen her brokenness before.

He’d been there the day her father called her after years of silence. Nick had seen how brutally Charlie reduced her to a shaking mess. He’d heard the cruelties her father spewed.

“Well.” She sniffs audibly. “I think you understand what I have nightmares about. Or who, better yet.” After a second, she realizes how stupid this all is, callinghim. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. You’re probably with Claire-”

“She’s not here. Same as always,” Nick says evenly, keeping her on the phone. “We never did get to talk about…your father.” The sleep is slowly fading from his voice. “Before we stopped seeing each other. I remember that phone call. Has he always been like that?”

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