Fade To Black

By Suzanne D. Williams

Caia Maceo's life changed the day Toby Kemp walked into it. He's different from other boys, silent, secretive. But, their feelings for each other growing, she finds out there's a reason he acts that way. He's lived through something no teen should have to face. He's seen hell and survived. Yet, it isn't his vision of hell that makes her question their relationship, but an unexpected view of heaven.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzanne D. Williams
• Release date: May 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201988265

Suzanne D. Williams

Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

www.feelgoodromance.com

© 2015 FADE TO BLACK (Angst) Book 1; FADE TO GRAY (Angst) Book 2

by Suzanne D. Williams

www.feelgoodromance.com

www.suzannedwilliams.com

Included:

Book 1:  Fade To Black

Book 2:  Fade To Gray

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

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BOOK 1

If any of you has a hundred sheep, and one of them gets lost, what will you do? Won't you leave the ninety-nine in the field and go look for the lost sheep until you find it? And when you find it, you will be so glad that you will put it on your shoulder (Lk 15:4-5 CEV).

But the LORD said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart (1Sa 16:7).

CHAPTER 1

I didn’t mean to pull the knife, but next thing I knew, the blade I had stuck in my sock was aimed at the other girl’s throat. A chorus of shouts followed, dragging admin out of the school’s main office, and I prepared for a mess of trouble. Then someone hit me from behind.

I came to lying on a cot in the nurse’s office.

The nurse, a slightly overweight woman named Nancy, hovered genie-like overhead. How many fingers am I holding up?

I looked at her unable to believe a professional had actually asked that question. The nurse wriggled her fingers again.

Three, I said, shutting my eyes.

And what is your name?

Once more, I cracked an eye. Caia Maceo.

Good, then the bump on your head isn’t so bad.

That didn’t sound like medical training to me, but then, so long as Nurse Nancy was satisfied, I didn’t care.

The argument which had brought on the fight flitted through my brain and the unknown result. I wondered briefly what’d happened to the knife and who had clocked me, then decided it’d all come out in the open eventually. Things at Bingham High always did.

Thirty minutes later, I found out. Surprisingly, the person who came to get me wasn’t anyone in admin wanting to oust me from school for disorderly behavior, but the girl I’d almost stabbed with the knife. Wanda Prescott. In reality, I had nothing against Wanda. She was an all right girl. It just so happened today, she’d touched a nerve.

Mrs. Dodd told me to walk her to class, Wanda said.

Nurse Nancy didn’t seem to find that strange at all, which made me wonder what story Wanda had told to come down there and also why we weren’t in trouble.

I stood, waiting a second to be sure the room didn’t spin, then followed Wanda into the hall. I’d barely emerged when Wanda’s hand clamped on my arm and she dragged me, stumbling, two doors down, into the women’s restroom.

Wanda slammed the stall doors open checking for others, then faced me, her arms crossed. Are you crazy?

I leaned one shoulder on the cold, tile wall. That’s up for debate.

I didn’t mean anything by the whole ‘your momma’ remark, but seriously, gutting me wasn’t your best move. Fortunately, Toby stepped in and saved you.

Toby? Toby Kemp? There wasn’t any other Toby that I knew of and certainly no one who’d hit a girl, except him.

Toby was a bit of an anomaly. He associated with no one except the school’s biggest eater, Eddie Parker. Eddie was, because of his size, made fun of a lot, but never when Toby was around because Toby would, in a heartbeat, kick anyone’s butt for bothering him. Including, Arsen Bain, the school bully, which fight had happened more than once.

Toby and Arsen were complete enemies, and night and day in appearance. Arsen was tall and lean with blond hair and sky-blue eyes. He attracted girls like a dog does fleas. Usually, they found out what a jerk he was and took off, however. Toby, on the other hand, was thin and pale with black hair he kept covered most of the time by a hoodie. He also had a pair of rings in his lip, one on either side. You always had the feeling he knew something you didn’t and you ought to look behind you just in case. Arsen, if you were smart at all, you completely avoided.

Don’t overthink it, Wanda continued, as if she could see my thoughts. He’s always defending Eddie. He probably just did the same for you.

Probably, but still, the fact he’d done anything at all had serious implications in my mind.

He took the knife? I asked.

Wanda dipped my chin. Took the knife and disappeared. Principal Forney tried to corner me about it. But since he couldn’t find the knife and had no proof it existed, there wasn’t anything he could do.

It crossed my mind that Toby hadn’t gotten into trouble for bashing me in the head, but I didn’t bring it up. Thanks. Still ... leave my mom alone.

Wanda rolled her eyes.

With nothing else to say, and unwilling to risk further trouble by not showing up for class, we left the bathroom. The rest of the day was uneventful, so much so that by the afternoon bell, I’d forgotten about the incident entirely.

Swinging my locker door open, I reached in to trade my books and halted at the sight of my knife folded on the bottom. I picked it up, shielding it from view, and opened and closed the blade. No note. Nothing. And no explanation for how he’d gotten into my locker in the first place.

My curiosity spiked, I shoved it in my pocket, grabbed my unfinished assignment, and slammed the door shut. I made my way out the double doors and across the parking lot to the edge of the street. Taking a right, I followed the sidewalk where it clung to Ninth, then ducked beneath a section of fencing and headed for a shortcut through the old paper warehouse.

Now, abandoned, my mom told me never to go there, but I did anyway, less worried about being hurt by whoever might be lurking inside than disliking the fifteen minutes longer it took me to avoid it. Besides, I had the knife. I wasn’t completely defenseless. Most times, if I saw anyone in there, they’d either run away or were so passed out they were no threat at all.

I approached the open door, pausing as I usually did to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness, then scanned left and right for anyone before heading across. The soles of my sneakers crunched over debris scattered on the broken concrete, and my toe kicked a used syringe ten feet to the left. It whirled forward, rolling up against the stairs, and I halted once more, my gaze traveling upward.

I started at the shape of the boy at the top. Five-foot-seven, black jacket, the hood pulled over his eyes, the glint of two rings shining on his bottom lip.

My hands wrapped around my books, I stood there, frozen, and he descended casual, each step taken like he had tons of time. He halted on the one right above me, and I could see his eyes at last. Amusement sparked in them.

Over what? That I’d found him there? That he’d one-upped me about the knife? I swallowed hard, my mouth dry.

What ... are you doing here? I managed to ask.

The humor on his face seemed to grow.

Or am I not supposed to talk to you? I continued, not waiting for his answer. Will some ... powerful force ... reach down and grab me?

In response, he stretched out his fingers and took hold of the ends of a lock of my hair. Rolling the blonde piece back and forth, he tugged it gently. You can talk, he said.

Talk to him in there, he meant. But probably not at school. He didn’t say that, but I had the distinct feeling he would. Thanks ... about the knife? I asked.

He released my hair and nodded once. You should leave it at home.

For an unknown reason, this rubbed me wrong. And risk getting attacked? A girl’s not safe walking around on her own.

He appeared unfazed by that remark. You shouldn’t come through here, either.

You do.

His smile faded, some tension rippling through him, and he held motionless for several seconds. Then he leaned in, his breath blowing warm on my cheeks. You ever see hell, Caia?

Hell? I trembled, my palms growing damp. Why would he ask me that?

Because I have, he said, low, and you’re too pretty to go there.

Toby calling me pretty felt odd. He wasn’t ugly at all, but he kept himself so far apart that thinking of him noticing a girl seemed off. Then again, he probably wasn’t numb.

I raised my chin, deciding the comment about hell was probably just meant to scare me and the compliment to make me weak. He’d find out quick that kind of tactic didn’t work where I was concerned. I didn’t frighten easy. If anything, it usually got me going.

I’m glad you noticed, I replied, but unless you’re assigning yourself as my personal bodyguard, I’ll go where I want with what I want and leave hell to the preachers. I flounced out, leaving him where he stood, not looking behind, and not much caring what he thought. Though, looking back, my heart beat a tiny bit faster.

I avoided Toby for the rest of the week, pretty easy to do since he kept himself aloof. Come Friday, our interaction at the warehouse was mostly forgotten. Mostly, because I had the feeling every day when I walked through there that he was watching. It was both creepy and thrilling that he’d taken an interest in me.

At lunch, he reappeared in my view, but not in the way I expected. This time it was over Eddie. Eddie and Toby ate lunch together every day. I say ate, but really Eddie ate and Toby watched. Toby rarely did more than pick at his meal, always giving the remains to Eddie who promptly consumed it.

Well, this day, Arsen interrupted the whole thing, snatching the tray from beneath Eddie’s nose and dumping it in his lap. Toby, of course, took exception to it, and next thing I knew, he’d landed his fist square on Arsen’s jaw, sending him flying backward into the wall.

The lunch room became chaos, teachers and students talking overtop one another, the former trying to restore order to the latter. In vain. Then Principal Fornay appeared, and Toby, without comment, slunk out of the room. He’d be suspended again, whereas Arsen wouldn’t get in any trouble at all. He rarely did, since his dad was Emerson Bain, business entrepreneur and town councilmember. Toby, however, had nobody to come to his defense.

Gradually, things calmed down. I’d finished eating already, so I opted to go out in the hall with other students. That’s where I saw Toby emerge from the office and leave. I passed it off as yet another moment in the school year and finished the day with, surprisingly, no homework that weekend.

My hands free, my thoughts filled with how I’d spend Saturday, I gave no thought to my walk home or my dip through the warehouse until standing halfway and this eerie feeling crept up my spine. I knew he was there and wondered why. Had he waited for me? That seemed unlikely. Or was there some other reason for his presence?

I looked toward the stairs and decided to find out. He’d come down from the second floor before, so I headed upwards, a little leery about how stable the rusted metal was. Nearing the top, my eyes level with the floor, I spotted his shoes, the toes pointed toward me, the legs of his jeans just a little too long.

Craning my head back, I stared upward. He had that amused grin again, like he was about to laugh. I straightened and completed the climb, daring myself to face him.

Why are you here? I asked. He hadn’t answered me on Monday, but his reason then might not be his reason now.

I live here, he said.

I made a face. I knew that wasn’t true. Toby was a mystery, but I’d picked up somewhere he lived on Donnington Avenue.

You don’t live here. You don’t have any reason to be here, and I don’t need your help walking home. I threw this last bit in to see how he reacted.

He didn’t.

It’s a free world, he said, and I can go where I please with what I please.

The fact he’d partially quoted me surfed through my thinking. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. I switched tactics. Perhaps if I acknowledged what he was doing, he’d explain. Why me? I asked. For that matter, why Eddie?

Asking Toby about Eddie was a risk because, as I’ve said, Eddie was his special project. But he didn’t seem to take any offense to the question. Instead, he left me there and walked over to a bank of broken windows, now an inch thick in dust. I stared at his back for a moment then followed, taking a place at his side.

Some people in life need a defense, he said.

Like Eddie. Like me? I added to my thought.

He slanted a look my way. Arsen’s insecure so he picks on Eddie. You’re not, so you do reckless things.

Like pulling the knife. That was stupid. I’d grant him that. But his calling me secure was interesting. I guess it was true. I knew who I was and made no apologies for it. I wondered, though, why that had gotten his attention.

And you? I asked.

His hands in his pockets, he turned just enough so that we sort-of faced, and I swear if you’d lit a match right then it would’ve exploded the place. I’d never felt that kind of electrical draw before, the kind where me and guy seemed to connect, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

I was reckless once, he said. Now, I’m not.

That seemed to end his commentary on himself. Frustrating, because now, I wanted to know ... who was Toby Kemp? The more he separated himself, the more he didn’t say, the more I had to find out exactly what was going on. Add to that the spark that’d arced a minute ago, and walking away was no longer an option.

Except, he hadn’t asked me to do anything, hadn’t made any overtures past always being here in the afternoons, so I had no reason at all to think there was more to it than there was.

Why me? I asked. I was testing him again. I needed to know if his behavior meant more or if I should discount it all together.

He took hold of my wrist and slid my sleeve up above my elbow. There, crossing my skin, were a series of parallel lines. I was pretty careful about covering them up and never talked about them, though I’m sure a few knew. The fact he’d figured it out didn’t surprise me.

He brushed his thumb across the scars, then encircled my arm with his fingers. You’re too pretty for that.

Twice he’d called me pretty. The first time I’d assumed he was alive. This second time, however, held more meaning. I shifted away, shaking my sleeves back into place. I wasn’t sure why I needed distance, but knew I did.

I wasn’t ready for Toby. He was a tornado wrapped in a hurricane buried in a tidal wave. He made me feel small and insignificant and ... like a girl. I couldn’t handle that