Grasp of Darkness

Prologue

The night whispered dark things into her ear, especially when she didn't want it to. It pleaded with her, it hissed at her, it told her that it adored her and because of that, she must listen.

She never did.

The night was always overpowered by the whimpers of the baby, sleeping in the crib across the room from her. Angela worked night shifts at the cafe just down the street from their shared apartment, her baby left in Phoebe's care. Phoebe never minded; at that point, Caty was just as much her child as it was Angela's.

"Oh, Caty, what's got you so upset? Is it the fact that it's about two hours until your mama gets home? I'd be upset too," Phoebe whispered, picking up the baby and holding her to her chest. Phoebe had been awake longer than she should've been, telling Angela that she was preoccupied with the baby. Really, tales of the past swept her up in the middle of the night, keeping her from the caring arms of sleep.

It didn't matter. It was more time for Caty in the end.

Every shudder of the windows, every breath of wind that caressed her bare shoulders in the cool Summer's night made her whip around in a panic. Yet another reason she did not dare fall asleep unless she had no choice. He could be behind her. He could be in front of her.

Even when he wasn't in the room it seemed as if he took up the entire world. While Angela had gotten over his brother–Caty's father– long before, Phoebe had done no such thing with him. Not at all.

"No matter where you hide from me, my love," he whispered one night, biting her shoulder lightly, relishing in her quiet whimper, "I will always be there behind you. And if I'm not? I can assure you I would be there soon enough."

No, he wouldn't. She wouldn't let him. She had to do everything within her power to protect Caty from the world her father was caught in; she had to protect Angela from a possessive, suffocating husband; and she had to protect herself from him, and the dark overbearing stormcloud he called love.