Hello Darkness

Chapter Seventeen

Eve isn't at work the following week. When I questioned where she is, no one seemed to know more than she used some vacation time. No one mentioned her, but with each day the ache grows in my gut.

On Saturday, I pull on the red and white West Haven Blood Drive shirt and a pair of jean shorts before stepping outside into the crisp morning air. Breccan stands bent over the hood of his truck with a cloth rubbing at a spot. No doubt a nick in the flawless royal blue paint.

A smile plays on my lips as I bounce down the stairs toward him. Though I'm not crazy about the blood, I've been looking forward to today all week. It will be the first day in weeks that I won't have someone there watching me.

I convinced Breccan that I didn't need anyone escorting me with the excuse that it was one of Alma's work functions. It also helps that there hasn't been an incident in weeks—that they know of. When he took the bait and allowed it, I thought I might burst with excitement. But it wouldn't be Breccan if he didn't warn me not to leave the building until he returned later that day to collect me. Collect me like I was some prize. An object, not a person.

The banquet hall, with its brown mahogany wood panels, looks more like the large cabins from summer camp.

Alma told me when I arrived to find Selene, the director. Apparently a good one too. According to Alma, Selene started running the events a few years back and the turnout was never better.

I scan the room, looking for the blonde woman Alma described, carefully avoiding the blood. My eyes stop on a dark-haired man across the room. The blood boils beneath my skin, its tendrils curling deep into the pit of my stomach ready to explode. I didn't take proper time to think before I close the distance between us and spin him around to face me, nearly spilling the tray of cookies he's holding.

"I told Breccan I didn't need anyone here," I growl under my breath, trying not to create more of a scene.

"And what makes you think I'm here for you?" Talum says, handing a cookie to one of the donors. "Not everything is about you, Miss Beckett."

"Don't condescend me," I snap, low and sharp. "This has to do with your stupid schedules, doesn't it? Or did Breccan put you up to this?"

"Excuse me," he says, smiling at another one of the donors before returning his icy gaze to me. "Why don't we have a chat outside? This isn't the appropriate setting." He keeps his voice low and pleasant, in case anyone overheard, but I feel every bit of his irritation ripple across my skin.

I follow him, and he hands off the tray to one of the other volunteers before exiting through one of the side doors. "What are you doing here, Talum?"

"I'm volunteering." His voice does that thing that makes my blood heat—where it remains smooth and calm despite me being upset.

"And it just so happens it's the same one I am." I cross my arms.

"It appears so. I didn't even know you were going to be here until Breccan discussed the safety of it with us."

"Then you said you'd come." A scream edges at the base of my throat. I can't do a damn thing by myself.

"No. I would have been here regardless." His voice wavers a little. "Stop putting words in my mouth."

Talum reads the accusations in my gaze. "Have I ever lied to you?"

No—I look away. He hasn't.

"My good friend Selene runs these. I help her organize and plan. When you're ready to stop accusing me and start working, come find me and I'll introduce you. Then you can ask her yourself." He uncrosses his arms and drops them to his sides before turning away.

I want to call after him, but by the time I find my voice he disappears back into the hall. With hands curled around my middle, trying to control the stir in my stomach, I trail after him. But once inside, I didn't search for him. Instead, I fill out my donation paperwork then take a seat next to one of the nurses—Maggie, according to her nametag. She wears a matching shirt to mine. Her hair peppered with age and the wrinkles creasing her hazel eyes only seemed to strengthen the ripples of warmth around her.

It seems to calm my swirling belly, although I'm unsure if it has to do with anger or the amount of blood in the room—nine bags at that very moment. I lay one arm across my stomach and outstretch the other to Maggie. Then I count the white and gray ceiling tiles. I just won't think about it.

"Alma coming today?"

"Oh, no. She picked up some more hours at the hospital. I'm taking a double shift to cover here."

"Too bad. Little workhorse, she is."

Maggie swabs my arm before the sting. I don't watch my blood fill the bag, instead I scan the room for Selene. I would need my station for today.

"Your donation is really dark." Maggie draws my attention away from the busy room.

"Is that bad?"

"No—" she said still analyzing it. "Just unusual."

From as far back as I can remember my donations have always been dark. "Do you think it's because of my blood type?"

"Doubtful. It could be just from the vein I drew from," she checks the tube. I doubt it. I've been giving blood for years, and I've never noticed it any lighter. Nana was worried when I first started. She thought seeing the blood might be too much for me to handle, but there was something about it—like I could honor my parents this way. I couldn't save them, but that didn't mean I couldn't save someone else.

Maggie withdraws the needle from my arm, a tiny bubble of blood surfacing. She covers the hole with a cotton ball and secures it with a bandage. After telling me to stay seated, she walks over and grabs a chocolate chip cookie and a cup of punch for me to snack on while I rest.

Across the room, a woman carrying a clipboard enters through the doorway Talum and I used minutes ago. We wore nearly identical red lipstick and the same red shirt but she bravely paired hers with white jeans and heels. Her white blonde hair flows over her shoulders in full bouncy curls. I can vaguely make out the letter "S" on her name tag, the rest of the letters too small to see.

Talum glides in her direction and speaks with her before pointing towards me. She spots my shirt and angles her path in my direction, mingling and thanking donors along the way.

Selene glances between me and my donation. "You're Charley, right? Alma's sister."

I nod.

"Fantastic. Would you mind working the registration table?" Her voice is soft and kind.

"Not at all." I smile.

"Beautiful. Thanks, for your donation," she says, nodding towards the dark liquid. Her gaze lingers on it, her eyes growing cloudy in thought. "Today is going to be a wonderful day," she says pulling herself from the bag and stepping off to great another donor.