Chapter 7: dark

LUCA

Swinging my arm back, I knock the stick into the white ball, observing it hit the blue-striped number ten, sending it careening into the corner, where it bounces from one side to the other, completely missing the corner pocket.

Adiv and Wes laugh about it, finding amusement in my failure.

After informing Adiv of everything I had endured during Dario’s torture and murder, he noticed how much it’s been weighing on me and he suggested a night out. I thought it was massively pointless and stupid, but I decided to humour him.

Ever since that night, I haven’t slept well. I’ve replayed the events over and over in my head, like a broken video stuck on loop. They haunt me in the darkness and the shadows at night—to the point where I’ve been attempting to sleep with the television on.

It doesn’t help as much as I’d hope.

Luckily for me, Cain hasn’t needed me for the last few days, which means I’ve been able to hide my feelings surrounding not only him and that fucking torture room, but everything that happened in that space.

Not long after Cain stapled that tarot card to Dario’s chest, he dismissed me. However, I didn’t go back to the safety and confines of my home. Instead, I called Loralei, my boss, and met with her.

I barely remember what happened. I think I was running on autopilot after what’d happened in that room. The only thing I can recall is that I told her—in horrid detail—about each second of the hours I’d spent there. I told her my fears that I didn’t think I’d be able to do this long term. That I feared this line of work isn’t for me.

She told me—in so many words—to grow some balls. To man up and deal with the job that I’ve been tasked with. That I begged her to be put on. She reminded me of how many favours she pulled just to get me undercover.

Leaving that coffee house, after having poured my heart and soul out to her, I finally understood what Adiv’s problem is with her. I’m still stewing over her coldness towards my distress.

I understand that I have to do my job, but at what point does my mental and physical health override that? Shouldn’t it always be more important? How does she expect me to even work well if I’m running on a few hours of sleep and constantly paranoid and anxious?

It’ll have to be a bigger deal to get her attention, I guess.

I’m doing my best to plaster a smile on tonight. To show that I’m alright. Adiv, especially, has been terribly worried about me ever since I confessed all that went down.

Wes hasn’t been filled in on everything because he obviously can’t. Not only is he not a police officer, but even if he was one, he’d have to be on our case to be privy to any of the information. If we confessed anything to him, it could put the whole investigation in danger, as well as Adiv and I.

After making a comment about how we should watch his shot and how he’ll pocket it with ease, Adiv sets it up, swinging his arm back with precision. However, Wes distracts him at the last second, which startles Adiv and he sends the ball way to the left of where he aimed, mumbling a swear word before playfully lunging at Wes as if he’s going to hit him.

I press my beer to my lips, laughing. It’s my first genuine joy in days.

It’s quickly interrupted when I hear the sound of women as they approach, the room filling with their giggling. When I hear Adiv say, in a confused voice, “Dove?” I twist my neck as he also calls out, “Rae?”

By the time my gaze meets the girls, I instantly find Raven’s eyes, but she’s already looking right at me. As always, she looks fit as fuck—wearing an all white outfit that consists of one of those jumpers that’s short, exposing the soft skin of her tummy, and barely tied at the bust with a flimsy knot, as well as short-shorts that have a frill at the hem. She looks bloody gorgeous and it’s hard to look at anything else, especially with the skin that tempts my sight.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Adiv asks, but I haven’t torn my gaze off Raven.

She takes a moment to rake her eyes down my outfit and then back up to meet my eyes, and I observe her tongue dart out slightly to wet her lips. Although, I’m not sure if it’s just an involuntary motion or because she’s admiring me.

“Same as you—came to play pool.”

“And who’s this?” Adiv questions as he glances over at the woman I recognize as Ariah. She’s beautiful, with eyes similar to Raven’s.

I’ll admit, I’m surprised that Adiv hasn’t come across Ariah yet. He’s been working with the Brooks family for longer than I have, but it’s also possible that Ariah is a new friend to the group. All I can recall is that Raven stated her and Ariah were fuck buddies and nothing too serious.

Oh, and that her uncle didn’t approve of her friend for reasons not entirely known. It’s possible that’s why Adiv hasn’t met her yet, considering Raven keeps her out of Cain’s eyesight—not because she’s ashamed, but because I think she’s not sure how Cain would react.

“Ariah,” she introduces herself.

“This is Adiv, Luca, and—” Dove pauses, not knowing who Wes is.

“Wes,” he informs them.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Dove insists, offering him a smile. As always, she’s incredibly nice.

“Would you like to join us?” Adiv offers. There aren’t exactly any other tables open at the moment, so they might as well sit with us and chat, at the minimum. I just hope and pray that Wes doesn’t question us on how we know the three women.

There’s some mumblings between Raven and Ariah. I can see that Raven doesn’t appear to have the patience for whatever Ariah is speaking to her about, but she hides it well.

“Sure,” Dove answers for the group. “Thank you.”

Wes begins removing the balls from the pockets, rolling them to the one end of the table where Adiv pulls out the triangle and sets them inside. Once Adiv is done, he carefully rolls the triangle forward and back to perfectly place the balls in their shape. He then extends one of the cues in Dove’s direction, “Would you like to play? We just had a round.”