In the Dark

By Sasha Lynn

The summer Declan turned eighteen, her world exploded. She was forbidden to go to college by her strict parents and was forced to stay home and help them run the farm. Declan gave up her dreams of higher education and a career of her own, obeying her parents and promising to become a wife and mother, and nothing else. She expected her parents would become more controlling than ever once she turned eighteen. She expected her father to hire more work hands for the acres of land and other work that needed to be done. And she expected to be at her parent's beck and call. What she didn't expect was to meet the most beautifully tortured soul in a worker that summer. And she most certainly did not expect to fall in love with him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sasha Lynn
• Release date: Jul 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386463603

Book preview

In the Dark

Sasha Lynn

Published by Sasha Lynn, 2018.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

IN THE DARK

First edition. July 18, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 Sasha Lynn.

Written by Sasha Lynn.

In the Dark

By Sasha Lynn

Copyright © 2018

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

The summer I turned eighteen, my world exploded.

I was forbidden to go to college by my strict parents and was forced to stay home and help my parents run the farm.

My parents own the largest corn farm in the state, and it takes a lot of people to keep it up and running.

I gave up my dreams of higher education and a career of my own, obeying my parents and promising to become a wife and mother, and nothing else.

I expected my parents would become more controlling than ever once I turned eighteen, so I tried to never get my hopes up for much.

I expected my father to hire more work hands for the acres of land and other work that needed to be done.

I expected to be at my parent's beck and call.

What I didn't expect was to meet the most beautifully tortured soul in a work hand that summer.

And I most certainly did not expect to fall in love with him.

One

Declan, honestly, my mother groaned. We were sitting on our wrap around porch shucking corn, and I knew I was leaving too much silk on my pieces.

I'm sorry, I told her.

I swear, the summer makes girls your age lose their minds, she said, her thick southern accent lingering in the air. My mother is very old-fashioned and our personalities clash horribly. She's strict and doesn't approve of my way of thinking, and this puts a strain on our relationship.

It's not my age, Mama, I told her. It's the heat. This heat will make anyone lose their mind.

You've lived in South Carolina your whole life, Declan. You should be adjusted to this heat.

Well, I'm not, I said, my voice going up into a soft whine. I don't like this heat. I like the winters here, but the summers-

You live here, Declan, Mama told me sternly. You are not moving away.

No, I know. I'm needed here, I said, trying my hardest not to frown. I'm needed here, yes, but I don't want to be here.

I know you wanted to go to college, but being a housewife is just as important as having a career, she said, her fingers moving quickly on the corn.

I know it's important, Mama. I just...want more out of life. I want to travel and live somewhere cold and if I get married, then-

If? Mama asked me, shocked.

Well, who knows if the right man will-

Honey, the right man will come along. I hear the Sampson's son, Kristian, is moving back to town this summer. He's a few years older than you. He'd make a fine husband, Mama said, smiling at the thought of it.

My nose wrinkled and I stared down at the corn in my hands. The thought of marrying a son of a friend of my parents was weird to me. I'd just as much marry someone they didn't approve of, just to get a rise out of them.

Declan, hurry up, please. We have to finish this and get them started in the kitchen. Your father and some of the workers will be up from the fields shortly and you know they'll be hungry, she said, finishing her half of the corn.

Okay, I said, reaching for another piece of corn.

Mama took her half and headed inside to wash them and get them ready to be cooked. I sat on the porch and let my fingers move easily, shucking the corn as I let my eyes scan out at the land. I knew our land like the back of my hand and, honestly, I couldn't stand it. There was no adventure here, no surprise. Just heat and work.

Declan! I heard my mother call from inside the house.

Yeah, yeah, I sighed, quickly finishing the corn and then carrying the bucket inside. I joined my mother in our large kitchen and dumped my half of corn into one of four large sinks before I began cleaning them carefully.

Here comes your father. When he called from the barn at lunch he said he has news to tell us, Mama said from beside one of our two stoves.

I nodded in her direction, knowing a response wasn't needed. I didn't care much for the news. It was probably something about the crops or how much the price of corn had gone up this year.

The front door opened, bringing another wave of heat into the house, and soon I heard my father's voice.

Hi, dear, Mama said, kissing my father's cheek quickly.

Lucy. My father greeted my mother with a tight smile before turning to me. Declan.

Hey, Dad, I said, forcing a smile at him. We don't have the best relationship. My father watches me carefully and when I do something wrong, he doesn't hesitate to take his belt off.

Corn smells good, he said, heading to the cabinet that held the plates.

It's almost ready, my mom said.

Declan, I need you to clean out the spare work house tonight, Dad told me.

Why? I asked, confused. I thought we had as many workers as we needed.

Gary is sending me a worker in a bit. Says he just showed up and wanted work. Gary ain't got the work or the room and I could use a hand closer to the house so I told him to send this fellow up to me, Dad explained.

Oh. Okay.

Gary says this guy is a little shady, so I want you to watch yourself while you clean the house out in case he shows up. Just blow your whistle if you see him, Dad instructed.

Okay, I told him. Yes, he said whistle. He makes me wear one when I'm outside without him or Mama. I can't stand it.

Hurry up and you can eat when you're done, he said.

But I'm hun-

Don't you talk back to me, Declan. Now go before it gets dark, Dad said, staring at me coldly.

Yes, sir, I muttered, heading outside. I slipped my whistle over my neck as I stepped off the porch and headed to the only empty workhouse. It was the one closest to our house, the smallest one, and the only one with no electricity.

I opened the door and let the setting sun fill up the small house. It only has two rooms. The main room was somewhat large with a pullout sofa and a coffee table. The other room was the bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower. The water runs slow and takes a long time to heat up, but at least it has running water. Most of the other houses have small kitchens with a stove, but there's no point in this house with no electricity. Meals are provided for the workers, anyway.

Ew, I said after sneezing. I walked inside and opened the three windows in the place. There was already a bucket of cleaning supplies under the sink, so I grabbed it and got to work. The faster I cleaned, the faster I could eat.

An hour later I was done and the sun had set. My flashlight didn't do the best job of lighting up the place, but it was enough for me to see to put the supplies up and get around without tripping.

There, house, you're clean and I'm starving, I said, shutting the last window and heading for the door. I gasped as I looked at the entrance, seeing someone standing in the doorway.

Who are you? I asked, my fingers wrapping around my whistle.

I got no response and no movement, so I lifted my flashlight up. The light settled on the face of a boy who couldn't have been much older than me. His skin was tanned and dirty, his hair was dark, thick and had a slight curl to it and his clothes were worn and tattered.

Get inside. I heard my father's voice before I saw him. He came up behind the boy and stared at me intently.

Who-

Now, he told me.

I lowered my light and started for the door. My father pushed the boy inside just as I got to the door so he was no longer blocking my way out. I let my eyes drift up at the boy as I walked past him and found myself swallowing as I caught his eye. His eyes were dark and seemed to hold a world of pain behind them. I dropped my gaze and walked quickly out of the house. I soon found myself back on the front porch and I stared at the small workhouse, watching as several candles lit up the place brighter than my flashlight had. I thought briefly of the boy I had just encountered and I shivered, though it was not cold outside.

Two

I lie awake in bed for a long time. I couldn't sleep. This mystery boy was bothering me. I had to at least know his name. I got out of bed and walked to my window, peering through the slatted blinds.

Hmm, I murmured, seeing the candles still burning and his shadow moving around the house.

I rocked back and forth on my toes for a moment before finally walking over and grabbing my robe. I opened my door very carefully and tiptoed down the hall, keeping an eye on my parent's door the whole time. Finally reaching the front door, I let out a quiet breath and then opened it just wide enough so I could slip out. I closed the front door quietly and, with the noise of the crickets and bullfrogs drowning out my footsteps, I wrapped my robe tightly around me and walked the path to the workhouse.

Hello? I called out quietly as I neared the front door. I think the last thing I should do right now is startle him.

I watched his shadow cross in front of the window by the door, and then I heard the front door unlatch. It cracked open just enough for me to see the light from inside.

Did you forget something? I heard him ask.

Yes, I lied. Maybe this will get me in the door.

The door opened further and I soon found myself looking up quite a bit to meet his eyes. I hadn't realized he was so much taller than me.

What did you forget?

I forgot my...broom, I lied again. If I remembered correctly, there's a broom in the bathroom.

Broom?

Yes.

If you'll wait a moment, I'll go see if I can find it. The door started to close and I jumped at the chance.

Couldn't I come in? It's chilly out tonight.

He paused and the door opened again. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes incredibly dark in the candlelight.

Please? I asked, shivering a little. This wasn't a lie. It was chilly out.

I suppose so. He sounded hesitant, but left the door open and backed away from it.

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.

I think I left the broom in the bathroom, I said, looking around. The place was just as clean as I had left it, except his stuff was now neatly placed about.

Oh, okay, he said, taking the short distance to the bathroom in several strides.

I watched him walk with admiration. It had been a very long time since I'd seen someone this good-looking. I feel too thrilled right now, sneaking out and coming into this boy's shelter without anyone knowing where I am. I found myself grinning as I watched his white t-shirt stretch across his back when he reached for the broom.

Here you are. He turned around and I quickly changed my expression. He walked over to me and held the broom out. I noticed he kept his distance.

So where are you from? Are you just passing through? I asked casually, stepping forward and taking the broom from his hands.

Yes, ma'am, just passing through, he said, his voice soft and polite.

I stared at him in slight shock as he called me ma'am. I shook my head slightly and chuckled.

Are you from up north? You don't have a southern accent, I said.

Is this all you were looking for? he asked, ignoring my question.

Oh, I said, taken aback. Um, yeah. Yes.

Forgive me for not answering your question, but it is late and, pardon me, but I'm not looking to make any friends, he said, his voice still polite.

Oh, I said again, frowning. Oh okay. I'm sorry I bothered you then. Goodnight. I turned after forcing a smile at him and I headed for