Page 19 of Dark Knight

“Right here, babe. No need to think about it; just take what you want.” My smile is strained because as playful as I enjoy him being, that wasn’t what I was thinking about, and I feel confident he knows that, but he’s always trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s been a long time since I didn’t fear an episode happening,” I finally confess. Nolan's shoulders tense as he works, and the sound of the saw cuts through the quietness of the afternoon.

As the buzzing subsides, he stands straight and glances up at me. “How often does it happen?”

I already know he won't like the answer. “Usually a couple of times a month. The doctors say it shouldn’t if I lead an unobtrusive life. The happier I am, the less frequent they’ll be is essentially the gist of it.” I'm not sure if that’s actually true or not. “Stress and trauma are the leading culprits of each occurrence.”

“They hurt you?” There’s a menace in his tone, deadly and aimed at whoever has caused me pain.

I can’t deny it, so I drop my eyes, not answering but not committing to a truth when the truth is, it’s not my father. It’s my stepmother and half-sisters who cause the anguish. Not that father’s placid attitude helps. He continually tries to make up for his indiscretion, and Flora won’t ever let him forget it.

Most days, I try not to blame her. I can’t imagine having a constant reminder of her husband’s infidelity around is easy. Once I was old enough to understand that was why everyone hated me, I attempted to remain out of sight and out of mind. I didn’t want to be the reason for anyone’s pain, but it seems I was unsuccessful and have been punished for it forever.

“Yes, then.” Nolan curses up a storm, and a thunderous look crosses his face before he closes his eyes and inhales deeply, muttering something to himself that I can’t make out.

“It’s not so bad,” I tell him. Mostly slaps and shoves, bruises, and a few cuts. Nothing I couldn’t ever heal from. But I don’t say that out loud. I get the feeling he’d go on a rampage and feel no remorse for the carnage he left in his wake.

“Not so bad?” A bark of humorless laughter floats on the breeze as he shakes his head. “Not so bad is a cold coffee when you want it hot. Not so bad is getting stuck at a train light. Not so bad is when you can’t get into a concert you didn’t realize was coming to town.” I twitch under his scrutiny because, for years, I’ve been convincing myself that my life’s not so bad, but he’s right. It sucks.

“What do you want out of life, Bea?” His question causes me to blink. I’ve never thought about that before.

Staring down at the drawing pad in my lap, my eyes roam across the sketch of Nolan. Shirtless, sweating, muscles bulging, and I realize pretty quickly. “You.”

Chapter8

Nolan

Ibuilt her the bookcase she never would have asked for. I took her shopping for every book she could carry this morning. And now, I’m staring at Holden, Bishop, and Hendrix in my driveway.

Coming down the gravel road is my father’s Audi behind the sheriff’s car with the warrant for my arrest, and behind them is my lawyer. I knew this was coming. It’s why I’ve taken so many steps to protect Bea. Why I spent all of last night and most of today inside her pliable body.

I'm confident my family will protect her at all costs. Bishop and Hendrix have even agreed to remain on the property, out of sight, just in case her family pulls anything. While I don’t think her father will, I wouldn't put anything past her stepmother. The woman is the devil in a meat suit. She hasn’t got a single compassionate bone in her body where the defenseless Bea is concerned.

In the early morning hours, I spent some time writing her notes in the book she carries with her everywhere because I imagined this would stress her beyond her limits, and I won’t be here to protect her. I won’t be here to prevent the memory loss, and it fucking pisses me off.

“We can stop this,” Holden growls as the cruiser comes to a halt a few feet away. Holden is the biggest rule-breaker I’ve ever known, and the fact that I’m going willingly pisses him off.

“I got this.” And I do. I have a plan. But nobody knows what it is because I need to play this close to the vest. Ineedeveryone to be pissed.

I'll beg for Bea’s forgiveness when all is said and done.

“You’ll meet with her father tomorrow, right, Bish?” The man glares at me but nods.

“I’ve got it.”

“Nolan Sutton?” An officer I don’t recognize climbs out of the car as three more cruisers come racing down my driveway.

“Hold your fucking horses, son,” my dad barks, and the fool has the gall to glare at one of Florida’s deadliest foes.

“Nolan?” Bea’s soft voice calls from the door of the house. I had asked her to stay inside and to trust my family, but she had so many questions. Far more than I could give her answers to.

“Pretty girl.” I turn to look at her, taking the steps in one giant leap. “I told you to stay inside.”

Her scared eyes cast across the busy yard. “They sent for your arrest, didn’t they?”

“Mr. Sutton!” the same officer calls out. “We have a warrant for your arrest for the kidnapping of Bean Plant Daley. Please come back down here.” The niceties are just that, formal and misleading. His command is ignored, nevertheless.

“I’ll be back,” I promise her, pushing stray hair behind her ear. “I’m not going for long. They won’t keep me from you. Nothing will.”

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