Page 63 of Darkness Falls

I run past her bedroom before she has a chance to uncover her eyes and walk down the hallway to get back to her kitchen. Without hesitation, I grab the box and letter off the table and walk toward the door, glancing down the hallway one last time before quietly opening it and slipping out. My driverpulls up just as I pull the door closed behind me, and I slide right into the car to head back to my house. Part of me feels bad, but this doesn't need to be any more complicated than it already is.

Chapter 28

Barrett

After the conversation we had a few days ago in our office, I decided to sneak off to the security room to get some of the final details thrown together for the mission, job, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Since then, I've been spending a lot of time down here, ensuring I've checked every possible scenario.

Kyler's confidence in my ability to handle everything has me stressing out. It's making me question myself more than I ever have before because the last time I thought I had everything figured out, he ended up shot. Part of me is wondering if Callie's right. What if we’re missing something?

I pull up the satellite photos again and cross-reference every day from the last month. I’m looking for anything that could raise an alarm, but nothing comes up.

The closest building is nearly a half mile away, and while it's had some traffic here and there, it's nothing that would cause concern. It could be as simple as someone coming and going from a hunting cabin. I wish the satellite photos had the capability of zooming in further, but even at this distance, it's extremely blurry.

I digthrough every bit of information I can until I feel a little more at ease. The weight of the last few days is definitely wearing on me, but I don’t want to be responsible for something happening to the people I love. There shouldn't be any surprises. This should all go off without a hitch. I assure myself that the fears and doubts are only because of what happened before.

The last time I let this much guilt consume me was when I was a kid. It was right after my entire world turned upside down. If it wasn't for Ms. Monroe and her home, I'm not sure if I would have ever escaped those feelings.

I was able to find Kyler and Sebastian, and the bond that the three of us created has been one of my greatest gifts in life. Between them and the therapy, I found a way to control my emotions. I have my outlet now, but with the stress of everything surrounding Kyler getting shot, I'm struggling a little bit again.

The guilt has been eating at me for the last several months, but I had to stay strong to make sure nothing fell apart. I had to keep Kyler in line and help Sebastian with everything. I know what happened wasn’t my fault, but my mind keeps telling me that if I had secured the house better, it would have never happened.

Everyone trusts me to make sure things are safe. This mission or job is the same scenario. They are all trusting me, and I'm distracted by the possibility of feeling guilty if something happens. I felt like this when I went to my first foster home too, and thefeelings have been making me think about that place more and more.

My life could have been so different, but my mother and Stan's death consumed me. I was so angry at my mom for what she let me go through and not believing me. Part of me thought maybe someday she would admit she was wrong, but she was there one moment and dead the next. I was alone, and while I didn’t have to worry about Stan hurting me anymore, I held the weight of their deaths on my shoulders. It made foster care that much harder.

Callie opens the door to the room, and I turn to look at her. We added her biometrics into the system after we got her back here, so she has the same access as the rest of us since she's not a prisoner anymore. She deserves full reign over the entire house.

"What's that face about?" Her head tilts, eyes full of concern.

I don't want to hide myself from her like I did with so many other people in my life, so I answer her question as honestly as I can. "I was thinking about when I was younger and in foster care."

Her eyes land on the chair next to me, and she crosses the room to sit in it. "Want to talk about it?"

She is always willing to listen. I love that about her.

I take a deep breath and dive right in. "After my mom and Stan died, I was in a really rough place." I sigh. "I was eight and didn't fully understand the gravity of what I did. I started acting out to try and mask what I was going through on the inside. I couldn't tell my foster parents the reason I was upset was becausethat would mean confessing to murder. I was scared of someone finding out the truth."

"Were your foster parents nice to you?"

"They weren't terrible. When it comes to homes, the first one was actually one of the better ones I ended up in. They probably would have adopted me if I wasn't acting out."

I shake my head at the thought of being adopted by the Jones family. Everything would have ended up differently if they chose to keep me, but I was too fucked up for their perfect little family. My jaw clenches, and I hesitate to continue.

"You can tell me," she reassures me.

"I used to get really angry and frustrated. The only way I knew how to let out my emotions was to break things. I couldn't tell anyone the truth about the fire, so they thought I was just being a troubled kid. I was struggling so badly. I killed the one person in my life who was supposed to love me, even though I never felt like she did. Mrs. Jones, my foster mother at the time, had a biological son. She loved him like a mother is supposed to love their child, and it made me question whether or not there was something wrong with me. Why didn't my mom love me the way Mrs. Jones loved her son? Ya know?"

I look over, and she nods in silent support.

"I started getting into fights at school and then at home with her son. I was jealous of what he had because I wanted to feel wanted like he did. After some time, they decided they had enough and reached out to my caseworker to have me removedfrom their home. They couldn't risk having me there any longer because it endangered their kid."

"They sent you away?" Callie asks with tears in her eyes, and I nod.

"They did, which was unfortunate because that only made things worse. I didn't realize I was attached to Mrs. Jones, so when they moved me, my behavior became more extreme. It was a hard few years, and I bounced around from home to home until I ended up with Ms. Monroe and the guys. Ms. Monroe saw my pain and struggle, but instead of sending me away like all the others, she invested in me. She made sure I got help."

I don't know why I'm telling her all of this. She didn't really ask about the specifics of my time in foster care, but I feel like she should know. I want her to know everything about me.

"I'm so sorry you struggled so much. You deserve to be loved and feel love."

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