The Darkness of Perfection Page 4

  You’re so strong, Jayden. Look at everything you’ve accomplished through the years. You were valedictorian. You earned a scholarship to college. You have so many friends who love you.”

  “I know, but it’s just so hard.”

  There was a shuddering sigh before she continued softly. “Jayden, you’ve overcome so much. Not many people could survive what you have. Only someone with your strength could do it. Never give up on yourself and never let anyone, including you, make you feel small and weak. We love you and you know if you really needed to come home we’d be there in a heartbeat, but you don’t. You’ve just had a bad day and you’re homesick. The holidays will be here before you know it and you can come home. Then you and I can visit over hot chocolate and decorate the house and bake lots of sweets.

  Your friends will be home, too, and you can spend time with them reconnecting. You can do this.”

  “Fine,” I answered, resigned but still unconvinced.

  When she spoke again, she sounded a little exasperated. “JJ, I love you and I know you’re homesick and upset, but you can’t let one bad grade or bad day destroy you. You and I are going to stay on this phone and work this out together. Now, let’s go over all the things you’re upset about and work on solutions together, starting with that test. What can you do about it?”

  We stayed on the phone hashing everything out until I felt better about school and being away from home. I had my solutions, now I just had to put them into practice. I walked back to my dorm feeling less miserable than before. I entered the lobby of my dorm and stopped to see if anything interesting was posted on the bulletin board.

  “Hey.”

  I turned and saw the RA beckoning me. I had only spoken to him on move-in day when he gave me the key to my room, and my welcome packet. I’d seen him a few times in passing since then, but other than a brief nod of acknowledgement, that had been it. He was nice looking with hazel eyes and brown hair. He was tall and slender, and tended to dress in t-shirts and baggy plaid shorts, completing the typical college boy look with flip-flops and a stained and torn baseball cap.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, it’s Jayden right? Room 253?” he asked.

  “Is something wrong?” I responded, confused.

  He smiled and shook his head. “Nah, no problem.” He bent over and picked up a box sitting on the floor behind his desk. “A package was delivered for you.”

  I took the box from him, grinning widely when I saw the return address. “It’s from my mom and dad.”

  “I figured as much. A lot of care packages come in during the first couple of months. Helps with homesickness. My name’s Stephen, by the way,” he offered.

  “Thanks again,” I said, and turned away to head back to my room.

  “Hey, before you go,” he called out.

  I stopped and turned back expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He tugged at his cap nervously and grabbed a colored piece of paper off the desk, holding it out for me to take.

  “There’s a mixer at The Hall tomorrow night; kind of a way for everyone to get to know people.

  You’re probably not familiar with it since you’re new and all, but it’s got good food and they have a live band on Saturday nights.” He paused to take a breath and winked at me. “I could give you a ride if you like. It’s not far, about a fifteen-minute drive.”

  I took the flyer from him and glanced over it, seeing the directions mapped out in the bottom corner.

  This was one of those things Mom and I talked about, getting involved and making the effort to meet people. He seemed harmless, but I wasn’t comfortable riding with someone I didn’t know yet. What if he drank and I couldn’t get back? It’s not like I knew anyone well enough to ask for a ride back.

  “I have some stuff to do in the afternoon, but could I meet you there instead?” I offered a warm smile, letting him know I wasn’t blowing him off, I was just being cautious, which he returned in kind.

  “Sure, no sweat. I’ll see you there.”

  It was raining and my thin nightgown clung to my legs, impeding my movement. The ground was cold and hard beneath my bare feet. I could hear the alarms screaming in the dark all around me; the shrill sound piercing my ears, drowning out the sound of my pounding heart and frantic breath as I ran. Spotlights were sweeping the area and I knewit was important to stay out of their path.

  I crawled low on the ground, crying out when the barbed wire on the fence tangled in my hair and dug into the back of my neck. I heard the dogs as they searched for my scent and the unmistakable howls when they picked up my trail from the blood oozing from the cuts and thorns in my feet.

  My feet were on fire and I knewmy only hope was to find somewhere safe to hide and hope the dogs didn’t find me. My fear of those dogs and what they were capable of gave me the extra push I needed to keep moving. I don’t know what terrified me more in that moment: the thought of those canine teeth tearing at my flesh or facing his wrath if he got to me first.

  I woke with a start and sat up in bed, my heart racing from my nightmare, and stared into the dark, trying to make out my surroundings. I panicked, my mind still in that dark place in my head until I recognized my dorm room and heard my roommate snoring in the bed across from me.

  I huffed and rolled over, annoyed by my silly behavior, and flipped my pillow so the cooler side was against my cheek. I looked over to my desk beside my bed, and even though it was too dark to make out, I knew the photograph sitting on top of it. I shifted the frame so it faced me and thought about how much I missed my family and wanted the security of my parents watching over me, even if it was only symbolic. Grazing my finger gently over the smooth glass, I smiled as I vividly recalled when this photo was taken. It was the first day of the family summer vacation. I smiled when I thought of Kevin being my ‘little brother.’ He was just over six feet tall, whereas I barely reach five foot seven standing on my tiptoes, but he was two months younger than I was, and I wouldn’t let him forget it.

  I took several deep cleansing breaths to calm my racing heart and slowly lay back down, pulling my blankets to my chin and closing my eyes as I willed myself to think about anything besides my dream. Those memories had long since been buried and forgotten. I hadn’t thought about my early life in years, and didn’t know why the memories were coming back now.

  It was doubtful I’d ever get over my fear of dark, small places though. I don’t know where the fear

  came from, only that it was a very real place buried somewhere in my subconscious with the rest of my bad memories, and that’s where I wanted them to stay. I was afraid if I ever allowed myself to look too closely, I would forever lose who I’d become.

  As I lay there calming my nerves, there was a flash of light in the window seconds before the rumbling of thunder echoed through the room. I shuddered and burrowed deeper under the blankets, hiding from the storm. I loved the clean smell in the air after a summer rain, like a new beginning, but I hated that it took a storm to get there, and a storm was definitely coming.

  Staring up at her building, a flash of lightning lit the sky and highlighted the window to her dorm.

  The crack of loud thunder immediately followed. A long line of thunderstorms had been hanging over the city for the past few days, swelling rivers that threatened to spill over their banks, and the weather station had issued a flash flood warning just this afternoon.

  I pictured Jayden lying in her bed, her hair spread across her pillows, and wondered if she was still afraid of thunderstorms or if she’d grown out of the childish fear.

  I adjusted my hat on my head and pulled up my collar as the first raindrops began falling, and took a sip of the cooled black coffee in my Styrofoam cup. Well, that’s what I thought it was when I purchased it at the gas station. I could probably fix a hole in a tire or patch a leaky roof with this sludge. Grimacing at the bitter taste that hit my tongue, I poured the contents onto the wet street.

  Two sets of heavy footsteps approached me as I l
eaned against the hood of the rental SUV. I waited for my companions to speak, my eyes never leaving the window.

  “It’ll be easy enough to get through the lock on her door. The problem is the roommate is there again and the RA is still up wandering around. We’ll need to find another way. Sorry, Sir, I know you were hoping to have her home tonight,” Antonio offered with a shrug. “Now can we get the hell out of here before it starts pouring again?”

  I contemplated my options, knowing this really was the best place from which to take her. Her dorm room was at the end of the hall next to a stairwell that faced the parking lot. A roommate who couldn’t make up her mind where she slept at night, an overzealous punk drunk with his first taste of power as the dorm’s resident advisor, and a simple deadbolt lock were all that stood between us tonight.

  We could circumvent the lock and wait out the RA, but the roommate was the real problem. If she woke before I got Jayden safely away from the dorm, she could raise the alarm. If I took the time to drug the roommate, Jayden might wake. Either way, it was too risky to try for her tonight. I would have to wait another day.

  Her mother was smarter than we gave her credit for. She’d thrown us off track by leaving evidence behind that she was headed to Missouri, so no one would suspect she and Jayden were tucked away in a little town in Colorado with the same name, making it impossible to grab her over the summer. With a population of less than two thousand, strangers tended to stick out and be remembered by the nosey busybodies. Snatching her from that small town would raise too many suspicions and her mother would suspect it was me. From a large college in a city of over three-hundred-thousand it would appear more like a random act and I’d had enough of her interference in mine and Jayden’s lives.

  If it wasn’t for her, Jayden and I would already be married and possibly expecting our first child by now. Our life had been on hold for twelve years because of that bitch, and I wouldn’t tolerate any more interference from her.

  I had to wait until Jayden left for college. I watched my beautiful, lost girl trying to be so brave in a world she didn’t belong in. She was too shy, and the hormonal vultures that surrounded her daily would eventually eat her alive. I’d been tempted too many times already to make some of those boys disappear as they stared at my girl with their lustful looks. It was fortunate she didn’t return their regard or things would be much worse for her when we get home.

  “Son of a bitch!” I growled in frustration, slamming my fist against the hood.

  “You’d think the bitch had a guardian angel or something,” Jerome smirked. “Maybe you should just give up.”

  I turned swiftly to the fool beside me and grabbed him by his throat, slamming his head against the hood twice before holding him there, squeezing his windpipe until he wheezed.

  “Whoa. Whoa. He didn’t mean it. Let’s just relax before we draw unwanted attention,” Antonio warned, looking around the parking lot for possible witnesses. He tried to pull me off Jerome, reminding me although it was well after midnight we were still out in the open.

  Antonio was in his mid-thirties and had worked for our family the past five years. He’d moved up in rank, joining our inner-circle of trusted men two years ago. My brother, William insisted on bringing him with me to watch my back and help keep my temper under control. He’d proven himself over and over, handling every situation. He had the background and the knowhow, but I still just didn’t like the guy. There was something about him that rubbed me wrong.

  Jerome was still new and had yet to prove himself to me. I had to remind myself that he didn’t know my history with Jayden. He was a couple of years younger than I was and blended in, making it easy to keep track of Jayden’s whereabouts on campus. He wasn’t around when she was taken from me, or the years we spent searching for her. As far as he knew she was just a pretty face that caught my attention while on vacation; nothing more, nothing less. Still, what he’d called her made me furious.

  “Do. Not. Call my wife a bitch again, unless you have a death wish,” I snarled, shoving his head against the hood again before releasing him and jerking my shoulder from Antonio’s grasp. I knew she wasn’t my wife yet, but that would be remedied very soon. I straightened my jacket while Jerome doubled over, coughing to catch his breath. I pointed to her window. “Jayden is mine. She always has been. She always will be. I only need to reclaim my property and bring her home.”

  I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and rocked on my heels, contemplating my next move.

  Standing here staring at her dorm, empty-handed yet again, made me think that maybe, just maybe, Jerome had a small point. I’d learned her patterns and made my plans only to have them ruined time and again. The first time we tried to grab her some punk pulled the fire alarm as a gag. The next time, the girls in the room next to hers threw an impromptu allnight party.

  For anyone else, I would have washed my hands of the whole deal and moved on, but the more challenges I faced, the more determined I became. Guardian angel or not, Jayden would be coming home with me. I refused to leave without her.

  My brother would not win. William was dead-set against me bringing Jayden home, even though he knew she was mine. He would just have to get over his high and mighty attitude. The last few months had been annoying as hell. He’d become an old woman, always worrying and throwing up roadblocks or excuses, refusing any input from me regarding his side of our empire. Before long he’d have us sitting on the porch knitting with the women. William had kept his thoughts and opinions to himself, until I announced my plans over dinner to retrieve her. I had been careful and kept my plans to myself until the last minute to prevent his interference.

  My father was pleased. He looked over the photos I’d taken of her on vacation, while my brother tried to dissuade me. He argued she wasn’t a good fit in our world anymore, since she’d had twelve years to forget her place. She would be too unmanageable, too volatile, completely lacking in what it took to be my wife in our world. There were too many unknown variables, and with the Feds snooping around, our family didn’t need the attention right now. He said it was best to leave her be and let her continue to live her life. My father reminded him that the ultimate decision was mine and he had every confidence in me to take care of any trouble Jayden might cause. After all, I had trained her before, so I was well aware of what it took to handle her.

  He finally caved and assigned Antonio and Jerome to assist me.

  It was all fine and good for William to have his wife, but not for me to have Jayden. I don’t know what triggered the change in him, when he became weak. The shift was very subtle in the beginning. It only really began coming out after our father’s heart attack weakened him and we stepped up to take over.

  Our father was still ultimately in charge, but we handled the day-to-day running of our businesses.

  Harrison Oil & Energy Inc. was the face of our empire. To the outside world we were simply a family who had dealt in crude oil and natural gas for generations.

  Over the years our father and grandfathers cultivated close friendships with royalty in the Middle East and became fascinated with the way they lived their personal lives, specifically how they handled their females. Wives and daughters had no power or standing other than what was allowed them by their husbands and fathers. Men ruled their world, and no man answered to a woman.

  The beginning of our family’s wealth actually came through my great-grandmother. She was the pampered only child of her family, and even though women of her generation had few rights, she was groomed to take over and run her father’s oil company. My greatgrandfather was a roughneck who worked in the field, but had great ambitions. He courted and wooed my great-grandmother behind her father’s back with a single-minded determination to better his station in life. She became pregnant and, to avoid scandal, they were married quickly and quietly.

  He thought he would have the wealth and power he craved, until it became clear that his new wife never intended to share that power with her illi
terate husband. He grew angry and resentful over having to answer to his wife for every nickel and dime, always under the watchful eye of his father-inlaw.

  She gave birth to a son and died of a fever just two short years later. Her parents died in a house fire a few months after that, leaving everything to my greatgrandfather. He moved his mistress in, who was not nearly as strong-willed and would always do his bidding, so she could care for his infant son. Then he raised that son, who would be my grandfather, with the idea to keep power firmly in his grip by any means necessary.

  My grandfather took that motto to heart and became a ruthless businessman, expanding beyond legal business ventures. He crawled in bed with the Mob and began dealing in human trafficking for cheap labor. He was very careful in choosing my grandmother from an impoverished family with too many mouths and not enough money. She was young and impressionable, and he molded her to fit his ideal of perfection. As he bragged to friends, who looked on with envy at the beautiful, meek creature that ran his home with never a word of complaint or censure, the entrepreneur in him got the idea of taking that belief even further.

  When the “business” was passed down to my father, he continued to increase our family’s presence in the underworld, cutting down anyone who stood in his path. Friend or foe meant nothing to him. I learned at a young age that there were only two things that mattered to Richard Harrison: money and power.

  William took over running the ‘import/export’ side of our family’s business, which is just a polite way of saying we dealt in human trafficking around the world. Young girls were “farmed” from selected orphanages on our payroll, picked up off the streets, or just taken from the families already under our control. They were trained and then sold, either to brothels or private buyers looking for a wife or mistress who could never bat an eye over their behavior and couldn’t file for divorce, taking half of their wealth, or turn them over to the authorities for their own questionable business practices.