Killings Of Midnight |✔️|

Chapter 15 (Edited)

      Ryder froze. He wasn't expecting that. He didn't even know what she meant. She wasn't his real sister. He waited for her to continue but they were already walking into the front foyer of the house. Ryder quickly put his sneakers on and went outside to see Libby speaking his mother in a quiet voice. His anger flared. Because of her father his aunt's childhood was ruined, maybe even more. He glared at her and stomped past to Damaria's car. He got into the passenger seat and waited as his family and Libby said their farewells.

     "You'll be able to handle Ryder's mood swings?" Gemma laughed; nervously.

     "Do not worry. He is a teenage boy. I grew up with a teenage boy as well." Damaria looked to Lance, as he rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable.

     "I wasn't that bad." He muttered.

     "Sure you were not. You were just a boy." Damaria laughed and Gemma giggled.

     "Well you three have a safe journey home and make sure to call me when you get there." Lance ordered.

     "Yes father. Anything else?" Damaria  asked sarcastically.

     Lance dismissed her eye roll.

     When Damaria and Libby were finally seated in the SUV, Ryder turned to Damaria.

     "Do I have to come to work tomorrow?" He asked.

     "No if you do not want too. I will look for a new employee."

     "Great thanks."

     "But I will give you at least a week to think about it."

     "There's nothing to think about."

     "Just think."

     The car ride passed slowly and Ryder started overthinking what his father and Damaria had said. Something had happened and it had affected Damaria and his father a lot. He also wanted to know what happened to their father and what he did to them. But the other side of his mind wanted to forget and not care.

When they reached their new home, A.K.A Damaria's penthouse, Ryder went straight to his room. He wanted nothing to do with Libby or the overbearing headache that was starting to come.

He slammed his room door and went to take a shower. He just needed to relax before getting started on his homework.

---

Damaria sighed and shook her head. She knew Ryder was a teenage boy and she have him credit for keeping his anger towards his father at bay. But she also wasn't sure how to help him. What does one do when their nephew is holding a grudge?

"Umm...Damaria, I was wondering if I could not go to school tomorrow?"

Damaria turned to the slightly chubby sixteen year old. Libby stood there with the least amount of confidence that Damaria's ever seen on the girl's face. "Why would that be?"

"I was just not feeling well."

Damaria studied her emotions her reactions to the little things. Something was bothering her. Or someone.

"For tomorrow you can come to work with me. Help me run things around the place."

Libby smiled and nodded before turning to walk to her room.

"But Libby?"

"Yes?"

"Only for tomorrow."

     As Libby made her escape to her room, Damaria headed to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. Entering the kitchen she realised how neat and clean her kitchen was. Maria had left everything in its place. She was also surprised by Maria's thoughtfulness, by leaving the coffee already made for Damaria.

     Damaria warmed the coffee and then headed to the living room to check the news. The room was neat but with two teenagers in the house she didn't expect it to stay like this long. She set her blazer down on the cream couches and turned the television on. She kept the volume low, knowing that the teenagers could hear it. Lance had warned her to keep them from the news, but she had a feeling they already had an idea.

     The news channel came on and a man in his late thirties with a black suit and purple tie with dark hair and skin the colour of paper appeared on the screen.

      Damaria raised the volume, she couldn't hear what he was saying. "...in recent news, police state that the murderer has been given a name, since the victims are always marked. Last night Darryl Quinn, a young lawyer was on his way home from work when he received several strange text messages. The sender could not be traced and the phone is yet to be found. Officials state that for now the killer is not following a pattern. The victims have absolutely nothing in common and their families admit to no interaction between the two. Police are still-"

     "You're afraid he's going to find us?" Damaria was startled and almost dropped her coffee. She put a hand to her racing heart and turned to face Ryder. He was leaning against the wall with one ankle crossed over the other. "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you." He shrugged.

     "No it is okay. I was just lost in thought." Damaria took a seat on the couch and tucked her legs in a side cross. Her navy blue pencil skirt flat and crinkle free.

     "Did you know him?" Ryder looked up to her. He was seating on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees.

     "Once upon a time. Maybe."

     Ryder nodded. "Do you miss him?"

     "Never. I never liked him. He was what you kids now call the bad boys."

     "So you liked a bad boy?"

     "Ryder, what do you not understand about, 'I did not like him'?"

     Ryder sighed. "Young love."

     "I believe you are still young. No?"

     "What can I say I have a old soul." Ryder put a hand over his heart and looked up at Damaria with tired eyes.

     Damaria shook her head smiling. "You are very much like your father."

     "Really? Because dad never tells me anything about his childhood." Ryder sat up eagerly. Any chance to speak about their childhood was important to him.

     "Your father hasn't had the most glamorous childhood. His father was not that great."

     "And what about you?"

     "Our mother died when he were very young. Growing up was was hard. But we pulled through. Though I have to thank your father. He was mostly there for me."

     "So why did you move out?" He questioned; curiously.

     "Ryder," Damaria sighed. "Your father was starting a family. And I believe your family needed privacy. I was not part of his new family-"

     "That's not true! Dad cares so much-"

     "I am aware but I realised it was not fair to Gemma who had to make extra food or do extra laundry on days I could not. I think it turned out well, no?" Damaria awaited his response, she hadn't want it to seem like she was blaming anyone for her leave.

     "Yeah I guess." He shrugged. "But I still remember the times when you used wake up in the morning and watch cartoons with me. And when you'd try to make pancakes but always burn them." Ryder smiled. "I wish you had more time now."

     Damaria sighed. Her heart ached. She hated seeing Ryder so upset, he was usually so cheerful. But when he was moody it bothered her to know it was her fault.