Ahead of the Darkness Read online

  “Ah, thank you.”

  “Would you like a ride to the supermarket?”

  “Oh, no. I was just going to check out the local gym. I can bring some things on the way back.”

  “Suit yourself dear. Have fun.”

  I smiled stiffly and headed the front door, but Anne stopped me just before I left the kitchen. I turned just in time to catch an apple flying at my head.

  “We can’t have you falling off the treadmill now, can we?” I buffed the apple and took a huge bite.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled with a mouthful of apple. She laughed, and shooed me off.

  A brisk twenty-minute walk was all it took to get to the gym. I used my fake student ID to sign-up, and was stowing my bag in a locker in no time. It was a rather big gym for such a small town. Huge change rooms with steamers, even a separate weight room for women. I was rather excited, as there wasn’t a gym near the last place I’d lived, and I’d been dying to burn on the treadmills. Jogging didn’t have the same appeal. I found I couldn’t run nearly as fast, maybe it had something to do with too many people on pavements, and having to avoid them. You stand out a lot more running too fast in public, but on a treadmill, no one is watching you, just themselves.

  I skipped my routine stretch, too eager to start, and headed straight for the empty corner spot near the mirrors at the back of the club. I was thirty-five minutes into my run, sweating my buttocks off, when something caught my eye in the mirrors. A pair of muscular calves were on the move behind me. My gaze was glued to the reflection in the mirror as the man came closer. My eyes started to roam upward of their own accord. The well-built calves met dark-grey sweat shorts that hung low. A very tight black tank top barely hid some dangerously defined pecks. Somewhere between the sweat shorts and collar of his tank, my legs stopped working. I was staring, and then I was falling ... BANG! I should have laughed at Anne's fortuitous comment about falling on treadmills. I was reasonably sure I slipped on drool.

  Crumpled on the floor, I prayed no one noticed my less-than-elegant departure off the treadmill. Surely everyone was minding his or her own business.

  No such luck. With my headphones ripped out mid fall, I heard the unmistakable sound of muffled laughter behind me. I swallowed my pride and turned my head, and found a big hand in my face. I stupidly figured it was safe enough for my gaze to follow the hand up. Seriously, what more could have gone wrong already humiliated on the floor, if only I’d known. The smooth looking hand was connected to a lethal arm, and belonged to a ridiculously sexy face with piercing blue-green eyes.

  “Aye, ‘ere let me help ye up. That was quite somethin'. I've nae seen anything like it.” Ah, damn, he's Scottish.

  I stared, slightly open—mouthed for a second too long until my brain cleared itself, and I rushed to my feet. Mid rush, I made the mistake of looking at the sexy stranger, who happened to be smirking at me with the wink of a dimple poking out, and that was it. I fell over my feet again.

  His strong hands went around my middle to steady me, but didn’t let go when I was up-right, presumably because he thought I’d fall again.

  “I’m fine, I. Um... must have tripped on my laces.” Ah, merde. Shit. Your shoes didn’t have laces, dumbarse. Don’t look down, don’t look down. To my relief he didn’t, but I think he knew as much, if the cocky grin said anything.

  Chapter Two

  The sexy stranger’s hands were still on me and I was breathing all too fast, for the wrong reasons. I needed to move out of his grip and possibly shoot myself, but his hands were so strong and warm. I was anchored to the spot.

  “Did ye need a spotter for the treadmill? I cannae guaranty ye willnae fall like, but I’ll do me best to catch ye.”

  Once I grasped exactly what he was implying, I realised he was making fun of me. Yeah, no. I removed his hands from around my waist and tried to fight the frown that threatened to break across my face, but he caught the mood shift.

  “Aye, I meant no harm, like.”

  “Thank you for the assistance and the ... generous offer, but I’m done for the day.” I smiled all too sweetly and headed for the change rooms, ignoring his attempt to stop me.

  I was so mad and humiliated, all at the same time, which were two very foreign feelings. I couldn’t believe the asshat had the nerve to be so, so ... sexy. It drove me completely bonkers. I showered fast and furiously, and was out of the change room in record time. Refusing to search him out and kept my head up and eyes forward, walking out the doors, a little faster than normal. I muttered to myself the whole way home, which in turn resulted in a few wrong turns. I've never been one to get lost, and I didn't like it.

  My only saving grace at that point was the bath that awaited me when I finally reached Anne's house. I headed straight for the bathroom, turned the taps on full, and stripped off my gym gear, and that’s when I saw it. A little gift basket sitting on the vanity. It was full of bath salts, fizzing bombs and soaps, and attached to it was a note.

  Mia,

  I couldn't help but notice how your lovely little face lit up when you saw the bath. Here is a little something to welcome you to your new home. I hope you enjoy your stay, as I am sure you will enjoy the bath after a long day’s travel.

  Anne

  Home. I knew the word, could spell the word, possibly define it, but have never known it. The letter left me uneasy for unknown reasons. Its sweet sentiment I didn't know how to process but the gift, it was perfect.

  I filled the bath as deep as it would allow, then scattered some of the salts and added a rose-scented bath bomb for good measure. The deep warmth soaked into my bones, making me feel whole again, for a little while at least. The world never seemed so small and suffocating when I could stop and breathe.

  I had finally relaxed into the warm suds when my thoughts wander back to a certain stranger. It was the only thing that stopped the bath being pure bliss. His eyes were what kept popping in and out of my head. Beautiful and big, so intense, they made me shiver when I thought back on them. The way they pierced me the instant I looked up and locked eyes with him.

  Splash!

  I gasp and cough at what I vaguely understand to be liquid rolling down my face. My heart begins to beat fast, and I can’t seem to shake the disorientation. I’m so confused. I have no idea where I am, and it’s too dark to see. Before I have time to call out there’s a bright light shining in my face, making me cower up against the wall behind me.

  “What . . .” I cough painfully, my throat a burning mess, and my jaw aching.

  “It’s not nearly as much fun when you’re not here with me, mon chérié.”

  Oh God. That voice.

  I gasped for breath as my head emerged from the freezing bath water. I must have dozed off at some point because I have no idea how long I had been in the bath; time seemed to have escaped me. I dragged my shivering, pruny body out of the bath and headed for the comfort of bed.

  I was just about to climb in when I’d caught sight of my black ballet flats that I’d left out on purpose. Cascade’s!

  I looked at the small digital clock on the side table. It read 9:18pm. I quickly dried and rummaged through my closet, pulling out the only dress I owned. I’d bought it on a whim more than three years ago. The simple black lines were what had caught my attention. Cut just above the knee, it slightly hugged my figure to under the bust and then flowed up to the neckline where it sat straight across the collarbones to hang just on the edge of the shoulders with long billowy sleeves to finish it. The dress wasn't overly sexual, but it had gotten me into and out of trouble a few times. I still had trouble wearing it. My mother had lived in dresses; she always looked feminine and beautiful wherever she went. I was never comfortable with standing out but it was the only thing I could wear and not stand out going by the pictures I’d seen online.

  I towel-dried my thick black hair and left it down around my shoulders. I applied the two essentials— lip-gloss and mascara— then slipped on my ballet flats, and I was ready enou
gh to go. I brought up the address on my phone map and was delightedly surprised that it would only take twenty minutes to walk there.

  I was greeted at the door by a large, burly man dressed all in black, with a shaved head. The loud bass vibrated through the door. How cliché, I thought.

  “ID Miss.”

  I handed over my carefully-crafted student ID, with a forced bored expression, hoping he wouldn't make too much fuss.

  “Miss, we can't accept this. Don't you have a license on you?”

  “I don't drive, you see, but, umm...” I trailed off and looked back the way I came. “I could go home and get my passport, if I have to.”

  The man looked at me long and hard before he sighed and opened the door. The raging roar of the club came blasting out at us.

  “Go on then.”

  And just like that, I was in.

  The bar was like nothing I had ever seen before, and I had worked in a few places. It looked like an old warehouse had been completely stripped and refitted.

  When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was how long the space seemed. That, and the mass of bodies. The walls were covered in what looked like black cement, the floors, a rich, dark wood, mahogany perhaps. The few windows had been completely blacked out with paint, allowing only the golden warmth the long hanging light bulbs created. They hung from thick black cables that disappeared somewhere among the dark rafters, seeming as if they floated above your head. Huge three-and four-seater cushions of all different shapes and rich colours hugged three of the four walls. Not one of them was empty. The fourth wall at the far end bordered small stage and DJ booth. A man played the thrumming beats. More tall tables and bar stools were further in the room surrounding the wide space, but in the centre, the pièce de résistance, was the bar itself. It was, for lack of a better word, amazing.

  I wormed my way through the throng of thrashing bodies to get a better look. It was a massive rectangular shape, longer at the front and back with shorter sides. It was possibly bigger than my room at Anne’s. The granite bar top went all the way around, caging in the staff. No stools, though— sitting at the bar was clearly not an option. In the centre, blocking off the view of the other side was every possible bottle of alcohol you could imagine, times two. The mirrored backdrop reflected the low-hung lights, turning the bottles into glowing pieces of art, all the multi-coloured liqueurs glowing.

  I walked around to confirm that it was replicated on the other side, and that’s when I saw him. The guy from the gym. I quickly moved back into the crowd before he could see me and watched from afar. The image I had in my head from when I had first, but rather briefly, laid eyes on him did him no justice. I hadn’t realised how very tall he was until seeing him towering over everyone else. A good head taller than the rest of the staff, he looked at least 6’1”.

  What I had originally thought was thick, golden chocolate-brown hair seemed almost black in the dimly lit club. His face was much more masculine than I remembered, with a strong, almost hard jaw. His eyes lacked the mischievous twinkle I'd seen but there was still a hint of amusement, most likely from all the drunken trollops throwing themselves at him. His full pink lips were in a perpetual smirk as he flirted shamelessly with them. Yet, there was no sign of his playful dimples. I frowned at my mistake, they didn’t exist.

  I gave up on my perusal when I realised his white button-up shirt hid his form a little too well. The rolled up sleeves and thin black tie were a nice touch, though, and I couldn’t help but compare the carefree guy from the gym to the more professional bar guy. Both were equally dreamy, and together were a little much.

  With all the warm bodies around me, I felt hot and sweaty. Well that was what I told myself at least. I steeled myself off in preparation and headed to the bar for a much needed drink. It wasn’t like he would remember me. I really needed to stop lying to myself.

  “Aye, what’ll it be, then?” His eyes grew wide as recognition hit him. The dimple I’d thought imaginary wasn’t, after all. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s arse. If it isn’t the wee lass from the gym. I dinnae fancy seeing ye here, like.” His eyes slowly travelled the length of my dress, all the way down to my toes. His height gave him the perfect advantage and my body broke out in gooseflesh. I felt a little exposed, and vulnerable.

  “You have quite a collection here.” Get it together, A. It’s just a boy, a tall, Scottish boy, who’s looking at you, quizzically. “Yes, that was me. I am not usually so, clumsy. I apologise, again, for falling on you.” Twice ...

  “Aye, it was nae bother like. I’m glad I was there to catch ye. The name’s Drew. Ye’re new round these parts, aye?”

  “Yes. I just moved here, today to be precise.” I mumbled.

  “Do ye have a name to go with yer pretty face?”

  “Yes... Amelia.” MERDE! “I mean, um, Mia. No one calls me that ... Not since I was six... Mia, just Mia.”

  “Well alright, just Mia, what’s yer poison?”

  “Oh, I, hmmm, rum?”

  “White rum? How do you like?”

  “Simple, I guess. Rum and coke.” His dimple winked at me again as he made my 'poison’.

  “This club, it is something else.”

  “Aye, it took a while to get here, like, but now it’s the only place the folk wanna be.”

  “You work here full-time?”

  “Ye could say that.”

  “Oh.” Vague.

  “There ye go, doll face.”

  “Thank you.” I fumbled with my cash as I handed it to Drew. His fingers sent shivers through my hand as they touched. I smiled what I hoped, was sweetly and walked off, leaving him with my change. Twice in one day, but at least this time was a little more polite.

  I found an empty table and watched the crowd dance to the thumping beats. It was hard to fight the urge to watch Drew as he worked, but every time I looked over at him he was either looking at me already, or caught me looking at him.

  I finally had enough of the who-looked-first game, downed my drink and headed into the crowd. I used to love to dance, lose myself in the music and just feel. It was one of the only times I let myself go, especially in public, but with a crowd like this, no one watched you. Everyone was just in his or her own world, dancing to the thick beat.

  It took me a little while to be able to let go, and I decided I needed more liquid courage to be able to fully enjoy myself. I weaved my way through to the other side of the bar where a short blond girl was taking orders. I wouldn't be distracted and flustered here.

  Three rum and cokes later, I was letting lose on the floor. The rhythm was smooth and inviting, the way it wound through my limbs and out on the floor, stopping me from thinking, and letting me just feel. I felt every drum beat, every piano key, and every lyric as they weaved their way through my body and out my lips, humming and thrumming my way through the night.

  It wasn't until my fifth drink I realised I’d been drinking on an empty stomach. I had been so mad when I left the gym that I’d forgotten to go to the supermarket and opted for a calming bath instead. The alcohol was hitting me hard and I’d lost track of time with a dead mobile as my only source.

  In my lack-of-food induced drunken state, I thought enough time had been spend successfully avoided Drew’s gaze and that small talk would be a brilliant idea.

  “Hello again, doll face. Ye dinnae like the way I made ye rum ‘n’ coke?”

  “Huh? I can’tee understand yar, like”

  He laughed, shaking his head at me. “Aye, that was terrible. How much have ye had to drink, lass?”

  “Oh, you know, it’s all your fault. I’ve only had five... um no six, six rums and cokes, but I’m not a light-weight. At least, I think I’m not. I never used to be. I blame you for distracting me from eating.”

  His laugh was thick and sent shivers down my spine. I could almost feel it vibrate from his chest. He grinned, shaking his head again, and slid me a glass of water. I had the small amount of sense left to keep my mouth closed, smiled w
eakly and took the glass. I drank it in one go while looking around at the now almost-empty club.

  “Thank you ...”

  “Drew. Ye're welcome Amel ... Mia.”

  The sound of my name on his tongue did funny things to my head. I nodded quickly and scurried off before I could say anything else stupid.

  I stumbled out into the cool night air. I had never been so glad for my ballet flats then at that moment, otherwise I would have definitely been arse over teakettle. I stupidly spent fifteen minutes trying to find my mobile in my little clutch. Giving up, I crumbled to the curb and dropped my phone as I sat. It had been in my hand the whole time.

  Groaning, I picked it up only to discover it was completely dead and wouldn’t turn on. Merde, I broke my phone! Oh ... wait. I remembered a little too late that it had been dead for most of the night. I had no idea what the time was, and then it really hit me. I had no idea where I was and how to get back to Anne’s house. The address was saved on my phone. I groaned again loudly, and threw my head in my lap.

  I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. Placing my hands on either side of me to push up to a standing position, a firm hand gripped my shoulder. I completely skitzed out, jumping up and spinning around much too quickly. The alcohol fuelling my body did nothing for my momentum and I tripped over my feet, twisting my ankle at the same time.

  “Merde.” Shit. I had a terrible habit of swearing in French, especially when drunk.

  That time I did go kettle over tea-cup, landing once again less than elegantly on my arse. Whatever mortification I had felt earlier in the day was nothing to what I felt at that moment when the gym/bar guy reached out his hand to me again.

  “Ye really need to stop makin’ a habit of falling for me. Ye'll give me a big head like, and I might get the wrong impression.”

  “You scared the living hell out of me! Who does that to a girl? Sitting by herself, in the middle of the...street.” I trailed off, realising how stupid I sounded. I reached for his outstretched hand and started to lift myself up, but as soon as my twisted foot hit the pavement I screamed and fell back on my arse.