In the Night (Darkness Falls Book 1) Read online

  In the Night

  Melissa Sinclair

  Darkness Falls Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Sinclair

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, dialogue and incidents either are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to events, places or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges all song titles, song lyrics, film titles, film characters, trademarked statuses and brands mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owners.

  Melissa Sinclair is in no way affiliated with any of the brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in a printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy or copyrighted materials in violation with the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  First Edition

  Cover design by Render Compose

  www.rendercompose.com

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I would like to thank my amazingly supportive husband. Without you, I would not have completed self-publishing this book. In addition, I would like to thank my three young children who’ve been exceptionally patient while Mommy wrote this book. One even asked to buy a copy.

  On to my technical support and people I consider friends. Thank you to Mitzi Carroll, copy and line editor, and Marisa Nichols, proofreader. These two ladies helped make my words shine. They did an outstanding job, and I couldn’t recommend them more. They fixed every comma, and I hate commas; right, Mitzi? But the biggest compliment came from Mitzi when she messaged and asked if this was my first book. When I said yes, she told me that she couldn’t believe it was my first. In fact, she felt I wrote like a veteran. Thank you for the words of love; if you only knew what they meant to me.

  To my police expert, Officer Jody Breider, thank you for helping me with the police information. Any errors or embellishments are mine and mine alone.

  If you picked this book up because the cover drew you to it like any good cover does to a book addict (like so many covers have drawn me to pick them up and read the back) then all accolades should go to the amazing Lucy Rhodes of Render Compose. Her covers are an art. Check her out at www.rendercompose.com. You won’t be disappointed.

  To my parents who have been supportive of my writing, I love you. And to my dad, yes, I plan to write that book you keep asking me to take on. Also, to my sisters, Nikki and Amanda, growing up you were always there for me. I would like to also send a special thank you to my sister Amanda, who wrote a book at the same time as me and encouraged me to finish this book. Whether it was through competition or love, we’ll never fully know. I tend to believe it was a little of both, with a large focus on love.

  Finally, to my small, but mighty street team. Erin Gray, my longest and most amazing childhood friend, I know you will make me laugh no matter how stressed I am. Joy Schabow, my book buddy and confidant, I was most worried to let you read this labor of love. You were the one I expected to be brutally critical, so imagine my surprise when you sent me your review. I could have cried, and for those who don’t know me, it’s amazing that I didn’t. I think I was in shock. Sue Lopp, it’s not possible to say thank you enough for letting me bother you relentlessly with name ideas, plot ideas, and just about anything else. You are one of my best cheerleaders. A special thank you for letting me “kill you off.” I hope I did it justice. Darla Pinkerton, after I got a couple thumbs up, I asked you to read my book. Thank you for taking the time and for also turning into a name expert for me. I’m pretty sure I’ll come back for more.

  To any family members who read this, please don’t judge me by the content alone. I love all of you!

  For my Family

  1

  Ten Years Ago

  The air was heavy with the promise of rain. It had been one of the driest months of May that the state had ever seen, and Mother Nature was ripe for one wicked storm. Kara could almost feel the static electricity in the air. Fidgeting, she tried to focus on the book she was studying. Next week was final exams, and then she was out of here. On her way to medical school.

  Come hell or high water, she was going to the school she wanted for medicine. Not some degree her parents picked for her. Her intention was to study neurosurgery.

  Tapping her pen on the desktop in her bedroom, she thought about what it meant to be almost done with high school. For her, it meant freedom from her parents. She couldn’t wait to be out from under their constant scrutiny, their ridiculous expectations, and their lack of interest in who she really was. She was more than the dutiful daughter they demanded.

  She hated always being the good little girl who was too scared of her parents to disobey them. Just once, she wanted to piss her father off and do something he would hate. Just once, she wanted to get a reaction out of her mother to make sure that she wasn’t actually encased in ice. Just once, she wanted to be treated like they treated Ethan. But she didn’t blame him; he was the only one who treated her like she mattered, and the last four years sucked while he was away at college.

  Ethan didn’t care about Father’s rules; he was always bucking them. Maybe tonight would be the night that she did. She envied that he did what he wanted, but she could never be jealous of her brother; he was the only one she had, and she was proud of him. He was a genuinely great person, even if her parents had done their best to try to turn him into a pretentious snob.

  And yet, he was still a little bit of the dutiful son. After all, he was about to graduate college at the top of his class in prelaw, with his choice of any law school in the country, and Kara knew that he didn’t want to be a stuffy corporate lawyer. She could see him as a DA, someone who would bring down criminals, but not a corporate stooge. But, he still made his own path; she smiled when she thought of her parents’ reaction when he chose a law school closer to home versus the one they had handpicked for him. Even their threats of cutting him off didn’t stop him; he simply told them that he would follow the career they wanted, but he got to choose what school. He knew how hard it had been on her the last four years with him away at college and not able to be there. She felt like a shadow of herself as if she didn’t exist. He would always feel guilty; she knew that about him because he was a good man.

  Crash! The sound snapped Kara out of her reverie, and she jumped about a foot in the air. At the same time, the vase fell off her nightstand, a crack of thunder split the air and sent Kara’s pulse skyrocketing. She loved a good storm; it helped to block out the noise of her parents arguing. But tonight, her par
ents were gone to a fundraising extravaganza as a last-ditch effort to gain support for her father’s run at the Governor’s Mansion. She figured they were knee-deep in shit from all the ass kissing. Kara giggled at the image of her parents kissing some rich person’s butt, unable to tell where the butt ended and their head began.

  Finding herself anxious, Kara moved to go clean up the shards of glass. The wind was blowing violently through her window, and it was causing the curtains to billow, which had knocked the vase off the nightstand to begin with. She placed the glass in the ugly, floral-print garbage can she had in her room. Her whole bedroom was decorated in her mother’s taste, not Kara’s. Really, what eighteen-year-old wanted a 1980s floral motif?

  Glancing out the window, she saw that the night sky was liquid black; no stars were present and the tree branches were whipping around like they were in a frenzy, beckoning her to come out and play—as if they were dancing to a melody only they could hear. Lightning lit up the sky, and Kara shivered.

  Who was around to tell her to stay home? she thought. Her parents would be out until the wee hours of the morning, and if they happened to get home before her, they wouldn’t check on her when they got home. They would never know Kara had disobeyed them. What's more, they’d never expect Kara to disobey them, because of their indifference to her. To gain attention, she always did what they said. However, it normally backfired because they just ignored her further. Maybe if she snuck out they’d give a damn; even if they were angry, it was better than nothing. Right?

  She had made up her mind. She was not going to sit home and miss the last and biggest party of her high school life. She’d never gone to a party, and tonight, she was going to go. After all, what could her parents do to her? Ground her? She was about to leave for college in three months and would be out from under their watchful eye soon enough. Her brother proved that once you were out from under their thumb, you could have a life of your own.

  Kara grabbed her garbage can; she would throw away the shards of glass from the obscenely expensive vase in the downstairs garbage. Less chance her mom would notice right away; not that she ever visited her in her bedroom out of love. Usually, she just snooped. She didn’t know Kara knew about the snooping, but she knew. It was unlikely her mother would ever empty the garbage. In Constance Vanderbilt’s mind, that was what their house staff was for; however, she knew her mom would notice the missing Tiffany vase on one of her snooping visits and her mom would be pissed that she broke it. They had so much money, they would buy another ridiculously overpriced vase somewhere. But it would be the “principle” of the matter, that she had been careless and irresponsible as to break it—never mind that the wind broke it. She wouldn’t be given the chance to defend herself.

  The lights flickered as she was walking toward the stairs which, for some reason, really creeped her out. The house was far too big for the four of them, and there were too many shadows as it was without flickering lights. Shaking off the absurd feeling, she was almost to the top of the stairs when she heard a noise that set the hairs on her arm on end. She paused at the top of the stairs, and after a couple of minutes, she was confident that it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Her conscience was making her feel guilty for sneaking out. She squared her shoulders and continued down the stairs. Kara was almost to the door when she saw the shadow of someone standing by her father’s study.

  “Who-who's there?” she stammered and breathed a sigh of relief when the shadow emerged. “Devon, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at my father’s fundraiser? And why the hell are you lurking in the shadows?” she demanded.

  Once again, she had to shake off her nervous feeling when Devon, one of her father’s campaign volunteers, just stood there looking at her. He had always creeped her out, and at that moment, she knew that those feelings had been justified. She went from creeped out to terrified in less than ten seconds and started to back away from him. He finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity of time had passed.

  “Your father wanted me to stop and make sure you weren’t trying to sneak out. Looks like he had good reason for concern.” The smile he sent her way was borderline evil. Thank him and tell him to be on his way, she thought.

  “All right, well you’ve done your civic duty. I learned my lesson, so you can go now,” she whispered. She had tried to sound confident like a Vanderbilt was supposed to but had come up terribly short. Instinct told her not to turn her back on him, so she was still slowly backing up when she realized he was approaching her. Panic began to rise; Kara had just decided to run when she backed into the stairs and stumbled.

  Losing her balance, she dropped the garbage can, and shards of glass flew everywhere; simultaneously, she fell backward and landed hard on the bottom stair. As she tried to catch herself, her arm twisted at an odd angle as she fell on it. Pain shot up her arm and into her shoulder.

  Everything went into fast forward, because once she lost her balance, Devon took the opportunity to lunge at her. She tried hard to kick and squirm her way out of his grasp, but he was too strong. Glass was everywhere, and she was conscious of getting cut as she thrashed in an attempt to get away from him.

  Desperately scratching at his face while trying to scramble backward, she was knocked half silly when he punched her square in the face. With stars flashing in her eyes, Kara was barely conscious of the fact that he had pulled something from his pocket. She had only seconds to compute that it was a syringe before he plunged it into her skin. She realized the battle to stay conscious was futile as she slipped into darkness, but not before she felt pure, unadulterated fear course through her veins.

  When she woke up, her head was throbbing and felt like it was in a fog. As a matter of fact, her whole body was in considerable pain. Even though her head was full of cobwebs, she knew two things: that she was in the trunk of a moving vehicle and that she was bound and gagged. It took her several moments to remember what had happened, and then it all came rushing back. Devon had jumped her and injected her with some kind of drug. Where was he taking her? And why?

  Kara struggled to free her hands and feet. If she could just get one or the other free, maybe she could maneuver herself enough to kick out one of the taillights. She must have been sweating from the exertion because the ropes became slippery, but then the smell of copper filled the air, and she knew it was blood. Maybe she could use that slipperiness to get her hands out. After a few minutes, she gave up; it was no use, the more she struggled, the tighter the knots became.

  She began to feel herself panic, and her breath came more rapidly. Knowing she was hyperventilating, she tried to calm herself. Think, Kara, think! You’re smart; you can get yourself out of this.

  She was still trying to regroup when the car slowed, and judging by the sound of the rocks, it was a gravel road they had turned onto. They had left the main road, of that she was sure, but where was he taking her? Kara told herself to keep a mental log of any turns they took, and she tried to calculate the length of time they were on each road. It would be useful knowledge if she escaped. A noise rose in her throat, a strangled cry as if her mind was saying: yeah, right—like she was going to escape this nightmare.

  No! She would escape! Kara made herself repeat over and over the word when. Meaning when she escaped, it would be useful to know which route they had taken. The car slowed again and turned onto another road; this one was not gravel, but it was bumpy. They were not on the road for long before the car slowed one last time and the engine stopped.

  Kara felt herself begin to panic again. What was Devon planning to do to her? Get it together, remember your surroundings, and look for an escape route, she told herself. The sound of keys rattling put her senses into overdrive. Be alert! When the trunk lid opened, she noted that it was still evening so they couldn’t have driven that far unless the drug he’d given her had knocked her out for longer than she had thought. Devon didn’t look like the man that she remembered coming to her house to help with campa
ign plans with her father. He looked like a crazed man; the word monster sprang to her mind, and that thought sent chills racing down Kara’s spine. He stood before her, and she had no idea what to do to get away. All she knew was, she was going to try.

  “Home sweet home, little lady. I know it’s not much, but it’s only temporary. What do you think?” He looked at her earnestly, and she knew at that moment that she was dealing with someone who was, without a doubt, insane.

  “Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten your mouth is taped shut. I suppose I can take that off now. I don’t think anyone can hear you all the way out here. I just didn’t know when you’d wake up, and we simply could not have you be able to scream to another car to alert them, now, could we?” And with that, he tore the duct tape off her mouth. She flinched from the pain.

  “Devon, please, let me go. My father has a lot of money; he will compensate you well if you just let me go.” She knew her mistake right before his hand snaked out and connected with her cheek.

  “You stupid little bitch. You think this is about money? I went to a lot of trouble to get you here, and you think this is about money. Typical Vanderbilt. I bet you think you’re too good for me. Well, we’ll just have to see about that.” He jerked her out of the trunk and dragged her across the driveway the rest of the way into the house.