Night Fury: First Act (Night Fury #1)(15)
Author: Belle Aurora

My steady heartbeat suddenly quickens.

Could she be right?

I think back to two years ago.

As I shuffle papers, Clark appears by my side. “How’s it going?”

I smile up at him. “I’m good, thanks.”

He laughs awkwardly and scratches his chin. “That’s great, Cat, really. But I meant how’s the job going?”

My cheeks flush. “Oh.” I laugh uneasily. “Umm. It’s okay, I guess.”

Clark’s smile fades. “It’s been over a month, Cat. You need to move it. We need that Intel, and we need it now.”

But ending the job means ending my time with James.

How am I supposed to do that to the person I love?

I don’t think I can do it.

I make a grave mistake. Before I can think about what I’m saying, I blurt out, “James doesn’t know anything, Clark. I swear. He’s a good guy. I know him. He’s not a bad guy. We got it wrong this time.”

He stares at me long and hard before moving closer to me and whispering, “Cat, think about what you’re saying…what you’re doing. Think about which side you’re taking and why.” His expression turns hurt. “You can’t choose him over me…us. You just can’t.”

I don’t respond. Clark doesn’t understand what James and I have.

None of them do.

They’re all against him, and they don’t even know him. In order to avoid this argument, I tell him, “I just need another week.”

Clark is not a stupid man. He knows exactly what I’m doing. His features harden. “He can’t give you what we can, Cat. He is exactly what we said he is. We’re your family. He’s nothing. And you’re everything to…us. Please don’t force my hand on this. You have one week.” He takes a step away from me, expression cold. “If you’re not done in a week, I’ll have to tell Bob about this.”

It would certainly explain why he was so protective of me when it came to James. But even if Clark did love me, the question remains.

Do I love him back?

Chapter Twelve

If you had asked me about Clark three years ago, my eyes would’ve turned dreamy, I would’ve smiled a secret smile and my mind would’ve drifted off to far-away places. All of those far-off fantasies would have starred Clark as the hero of the story. He always came to my rescue.

He was my champion.

But times have changed. We have changed. We aren’t who we were three years ago, and honestly, I would be worried if we were. Three years is a long time for nothing to change.

Change is a natural progression in life.

Clark was my very first crush, and having Frankie tell me I could’ve had Clark all that time makes my stomach ache.

Bitterness sweeps through me and attacks my mind with vicious flare.

If you had Clark back then, you never would’ve fallen for that ass**le.

Does that make it Clark’s fault, what happened with James?

A solid bubble of emotion clogs my throat and stops me from swallowing. I blink vacantly as my thoughts take a turn in the opposite direction.

What do you feel?

Do you still get those butterflies when he’s close by, or have you resigned yourself to the fact all you’ll ever be is friends?

I’m…I’m just not sure. The more I think about this, the more unclear the answer becomes.

Dear Lord, please help me find clarity in this trying time.

Brushing my hair, I pause mid-stroke to look at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Bob told us that tonight’s dinner was to be casual and relaxed, meaning we don’t have to wear our daily disguises. So tonight, I’m wearing a black, tasteful dress; although, I never wear dresses when I don’t have to, and I’m not sure why I chose tonight to wear one.

Am I subconsciously trying to look nice for Clark?

Sighing, I shake my head and place my frigid hands on my cheeks to cool them and take some of the intense pinkness away from them.

My dress is nice. At least I can say that much. It’s black linen, comes to just above the knee and is fitted everywhere it should be. The neck remains high, buttoned up, with a white collar. The sleeves are long and also have white cuffs. A thin black belt came with the dress, but I don’t wear it. I prefer to keep it simple.

This dress was a gift from Frankie and Ari on my eighteenth birthday. We don’t usually give gifts for birthdays, but they insisted. They said every girl should have a little black dress, so when we went two towns over and I chose this one, they both said it wasn’t the type of little black dress they’d had in mind.

But it’s me. And I love it.

I sit on the edge of the tub and pull on my thigh-high white tights, slide on my black Mary-Janes and just as I go to exit—uncharacteristically and impulsively—I stop to reach for one of Ari’s headbands. I choose a thin, black band with a small bow on the left side.

After I’m sure about myself, I make my way down the stairs and through to the kitchen. Dinner will be held at Mirage, so when I reach the kitchen and find Ari and Frankie still in their habits, I stop in my tracks.

Ari spots me first. She looks flustered, prattling off harsh words in French. When she settles on me, she beams. “Oh, dear. You look beautiful.”

Frankie looks up from placing vegetables onto serving dishes, and rather than smiling, she looks down at my clothes and pales. “Oh, Cat…”

Before she can say a thing, Bob—no, scratch that—Father Robert appears by my side, dressed the part. He smiles down at me. “You look very pretty, girlie.” But the expression doesn’t reach his eyes.

My mind reels. “What’s going on?”

Father Robert puts on a tight smile. “Change of plans. We have an extra guest tonight. An outsider.”

Oh, shit.

My eyes widen as I’m suddenly panicked. “Should I go change?”

Frankie cringes, while Bob utters quietly, “Too late for that. They’re already here. Just go with it. We’ll be okay.”

“We’re here!” comes from the back entrance.

Smiling widely at Clark’s voice, I hear Frankie mutter, “Oh, shit,” a second before I turn to see Clark.

And his date.

***

I take my fork and stab at a roasted potato on my plate so hard that a shrill squeaking noise fills the awkward silence of the church’s dining quarters. I seem to miss everyone cringe and wince at the high-pitched sound.

I’m oblivious to everything and everyone at the moment. My mood tonight went from hopeful to murderous. Yes. Murderous.