Ch. 2: Messages in the Dark

"So....are you really going to make me ask again? What the hell happened tonight?"

Nina is standing at the doorway to my bedroom, as I pace back and forth, mumbling under my breath.

"It's just...and he's such a... ugh...damn it!" I can't even get the words out. My mind is still reeling from the earlier conversation. How can someone that good looking be such an asshole?

"To sum it up, he's a cocky little shit. Two seconds into the conversation, he tried to get me to sleep with him! Like hello? He knows damn well that he wasn't going to get anywhere with me. He just wanted to push my buttons." I finally manage to say.

"Huh...look at you all flustered. Looks like someone got under your skin in more ways than one." I look up to see Nina smirking at me. Wait, what??

"Okay let's get one thing straight. Asher and I are never gonna happen. I would rather be locked in a room with Cara than spend another second with that dickwad!" She only laughed and grinned wider.

"Yeah, I expected you to say as much. Give it a month or two, and you guys will become one of those nauseating lovey couples that make me want to stab myself in the face with a fork," she replies, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry, what? Did that seriously just come out of your mouth? Why would you think I would ever get with Asher? I am not about to be another girl he adds to his growing body count. Besides, I hate him." Okay, maybe that is a tad bit of an extreme, but I'm too annoyed to care.

She looks up at me and rolls her eyes again. "Girl, get real! You know the old saying. There's a thin line between love and hate. So, he sleeps around. Big deal. I have slept with my fair share of guys. Some when I was in a relationship and some that I never saw again. Does that make me a terrible person?"

"Okay, that isn't the same thing. You tell the guys from the beginning what you're looking for!"

"And how do you know Asher doesn't do the same? These girls get upset because they were under the impression that they could change him. From what you told me and from what I've heard, Asher Thomas is a pretty straight-forward guy. Every girl knows his reputation, and yet they still pursue him. They hurt themselves by sleeping with a guy who clearly has no interest in a committed relationship." she points out. Well shit. I sigh and fall back onto my bed.

"I hate it when you're right," I mumble out. She laughs before sitting down next to me.

"Look, you're right in one regard. He is cocky and so far up his own ass, it's amazing he's able to walk straight". I giggle at her choice of words. "But who knows? Maybe the cocky jackass act is just that. An act. Could be a defense mechanism. You don't know enough about him to base your opinion of him off a few conversations. That's all I'm saying."

"Alright, fine. You have a point. You don't have to keep beating me over the head with it," I say.

"Okay, good. My work here is done. I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Got to get up early so I can catch Char in the morning when she returns from her sleepover," she hops off my bed and walks out of the room. I laugh at her. I think back on what she said and am shocked. Nina is the last person I would expect to give advice on giving people the benefit of the doubt. It took her months to open up to Char and me, and don't get me started on her and Colton. She always says most people suck and aren't worth a second thought after they show you their true colors.

Why am I even thinking about Asher? I shouldn't be wasting any more of my time on him. I grab a towel and a change of clothes and head to take a quick shower before bed. When I step in, I sigh in relief. There's nothing better than taking a hot shower after a long day. As I'm washing my hair, my thoughts wander again to him. Why did he have such an effect on me?

I mean, sure, he's good looking and a great athlete, but other than that, what makes Asher Thomas so amazing? Absolutely nothing. I will just go on with my life as per usual and pretend he doesn't even exist. Besides, Asher has probably forgotten our conversation and moved onto the next girl. All thoughts of He Who Shall Not Be Named leave my mind, as I step out of the shower. I quickly change into my gray sweatpants and my dad's old Rolling Stones T-shirt. I dry my hair with my towel and brush it out, before throwing it up in a loose bun. I make my way back to my bedroom and plug my phone into the charger. I fall asleep quickly, but my dreams are anything but sweet.

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Dad and I were in the kitchen, cooking dinner to surprise mom when she gets home from work. She had to work late tonight; dad said she had an important trial coming up and had to work on the case. Dad had picked me up from school, instead, which was always unexpected because he was usually still at work when I got out of school. Dad is a detective at the local precinct; it's where he met mom. She was in her first year of law school, interning with the state prosecution office. He was a young deputy. Dad said he fell in love with her instantly. I love hearing their story; it's like a page ripped out of my favorite romance novel. Anyways, Dad said his shift ended early and wanted to make mom her favorite dinner tonight: spaghetti carbonara. He was teaching me how to make the noodles from scratch when the doorbell rang.

"Hey, sweetie, will you go see who is at the door? I don't want to leave the stove unattended. The last thing mom needs to come home to is a fire," dad jokes.

I laugh and nod, before running towards the front door. I open it and see Uncle Matt. Well, he's not really my uncle, not by blood anyway. Him and Dad graduated from the police academy together and have been partners and best friends ever since. I've known him forever; he's family at this point. I furrow my eyebrows wondering what he's doing here.

"Uncle Matt! Are you here for dinner? Dad didn't mention you coming over, but I can set you a plate. Mom should be home soon from work, and then we can eat." I usher him through the door about to head back to the kitchen when Uncle Matt gently grabs a hold of my arm.

"Makayla, who's at the door?" My dad comes up behind me but stops when he sees Uncle Matt. It's clear my dad is just as surprised at Uncle Matt stopping by as I was. It's silent for a moment or two, before my dad speaks. "Umm, Makayla? Would you mind going upstairs and getting washed up for dinner? I'm going to see what Uncle Matt needs real quick."

Nodding, I walk upstairs but never make it to my room. I had seen how crest-fallen Uncle Matt looked. Something was wrong. So instead, I hid behind the wall at the top of the stairs, listening in.

"Matt? What's going on?"

"Derek. I think, maybe, you should sit down."

"Why what's going on? What happened?"

"Derek.... It's Macy."

"What about Macy?" When there's no response, he starts shouting.

"No... Whatever you're getting at, I don't want to hear it! Just stop." I peer out from my place behind the wall and see Uncle Matt grab a hold of my dad, trying to calm him down.

"There was an accident. We found Macy's car completely totaled, smashed up against a tree. Derek, Macy wasn't in the car. We have men still out patrolling the woods, but there's been no sign of her."

"Well, widen the search, then! She's out there probably scared and hurt. Screw this. I'm going to look for her myself." I can hear the slight quiver in my dad's voice, as I watch him grab his car keys from the entryway table. Uncle Matt blocks his path.

"Derek, stop. The tires were blown out. From the initial inspection, officers on the scene came across a few bullet casings. Someone intended for her to hit that tree. Her tires were shot out. With the amount of blood, they found in the car...no one could have survived that much loss of... look, the department isn't giving up hope, but I want you to just prepare yourself. For Makayla's sake, as well."

I didn't understand. This couldn't be happening. Once I heard my name, I walked back downstairs and saw my dad on his knees, sobbing.

"Dad! Dad! What is he talking about? This has to be a joke.... Where's mom? Where is she dad?" He looked at me, his face stark white. He pulled me into a hug, holding onto me like his life depended on it.

I scream and shoot up, clutching my chest. I feel the tears rolling down my face and quickly wipe them away. I haven't had that nightmare in months. No. Not a nightmare. It was real. I will never forget that day. It's been almost 6 years since my mom vanished. After two years of investigating, the police eventually gave up. No leads. No evidence other than what was left at the scene that night. My mom's case just became another stored away in a box with hundreds of others. Unsolved. My mom was eventually declared dead by the state. I don't think my dad has ever fully recovered. He was the only reason the case stayed open for that long.

After the department closed the case, my dad became a shell of a man. If it weren't for me, I don't think he would have had any reason to continue moving forward. Even though I was struggling with the loss of my mom and not knowing what really happened to her, I had to be my dad's rock. He would drop me off at school, go to work, pick me back up, and then leave me home alone. I can't even count the number of times he came home drunk in the early hours of the morning. I would wake up for school, and he'd be passed out on the couch or at the kitchen table, with empty bottles of liquor right beside him. He was supposed to be the adult, but grief became him. I went from a 15-year-old girl to the adult of the house overnight.

Years later, our relationship is still strained because of it. He's doing a lot better now. With Uncle Matt's help, he was able to pull himself together. I was starting my freshman year of college when it finally dawned on him that he needed to be a dad. He stopped drinking and focused on work and me. He was just promoted last year to Lieutenant. Without him, I wouldn't be able to pay for my share of the rent, so I try my best to have a relationship with him. I also know my mom would hate what our relationship has become, so I try my best to get back to the close dynamic we once had. It's hard, though. Sometimes, I think he forgets that we both lost her. A little over a year ago, he started seeing Melanie. I'm glad he's happy and moving on, but I just can't seem to let go of the past.

Once I knew he didn't need me constantly, I was able to grieve in my own way. I became obsessed with the details of my mom's case. I was under the notion that I would be able to do what the police couldn't: figure out what happened to my mother. It all started last year when I started taking more law and criminal justice classes for my major. I was hoping by looking into her case, I would be able to see something the cops could have missed. After months of all-nighters and missing meals, Char finally called an intervention. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have made it through last semester.

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear my phone ping from the nightstand. I look over and see my phone lighting up. I pick it up and see a text message from a number I don't recognize.

Unknown:

You have grown up so much...where have the years gone?

I frown and reread the text a few more times before replying.

Who is this?

I hit send. I bite on my nails, as I wait for a reply.

Unknown:

I'll see you soon, lovebug :)

I tense up. There's no way...the only other person who has ever called me lovebug was my mom. I start to tear up as more memories start flooding my brain: Christmas mornings, hot chocolate on snow days, SBU football games, us making dinner to surprise dad when he got home, the constant hushed fighting when they thought I was sleeping, the slamming of doors. I shake my head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. God, I would rather be thinking of Asher than my screwed-up childhood. I look back down at my phone and bite my lip. It's just not possible. My mom's dead. If she weren't, she wouldn't have left me for all these years. It's not possible.

I don't fall asleep after that. I'm kept up by the fact that this isn't the first unknown text I've received. This past spring, I had been receiving messages from an unknown number, saying the same thing repeatedly: "Leave well enough alone, lovebug."

It started to freak me out after a week or so. I showed the messages to Char, and she told me to block the number. So, I did exactly that. Now, these messages are different. They don't seem as threatening as before, but I still decide to block this number too. Better safe than sorry, right? I put my phone back on my nightstand and roll over onto my side. Another night goes by where instead of sleeping, my mother's disappearance consumes me.

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Disclaimer: I don't know the legality of using established references in works of fiction, but any mention of pop culture or fictional people, places, or things, are not my own. All rights to original creation.