Darkness Before Dawn

nice," I say as we scoot in a booth.
    "I know," he replies with a smirk.
    "So, do you know who took her?"
    "Yes," he sighs.
    My eyes shoot out of my face. "You've known this whole time?"
    "Yes," he says in a grave voice. "It's complicated, Cole."
    "Fuck complicated!" I shout. "Stop fucking telling me things are complicated. I fucking know complicated. I've lived complicated. My fucking girlfriend...oh my God, Mark. Oh my God. Mother of fucking fuck. Is...please tell me it's not the same people," I whisper.
    Mark looks me in the eyes, and the pain I see in them answers my question. Fuck.
    "Who are they, Mark? What do they want? Why her?"
    The waitress comes and gets our drink orders, and we order our food so she won't bother us again until it's ready.
    "Cole," he says sternly. "If I tell you-" I make a face. "When I tell you, you have to promise me that you'll let me handle it. Please let me do this."
    I pound my fist on the table, making our waters spill over a little. I practice on my breathing so I won't lose my temper again.
    "Mark, just tell me," I demand through gritted teeth.
    "Blake's father's last name is Brennan. Her mother's was Benson. As in Brian Benson."
    He says it with such assurance, as if I'm supposed to know who the hell that is. As if he's saying...oh shit, Brian Benson? My eyes shoot up to his. Son of a...no way. I shake my head vehemently as I look into his expectant wide blue eyes.
    "Brian Benson?" I whisper hoarsely. When he nods his head, I want to die.
    He nods his head. "—is Blake's grandfather."
    My head feels like it's inside a hamster ball, spinning and hitting everything in sight. Brian Benson is like the fucking Godfather. No, not like, he is the fucking godfather. He's the mob boss of mob bosses. Brian fucking Benson. Oh my God. It's all starting to come back to me. Blake's grandfather's farm. My farm now. What the fuck?
    "Why the hell do I own Brian Benson's farm?" I whisper.
    Mark's eyebrows shoot up. "His farm?"
    I shoot him a look. "Don't be stupid. I know that you know."
    Mark looks confused. "No, I really don't. What the hell are you talking about?"
    I let out a breath and rub my forehead, trying to rein in my impending headache.
    "Forget it. How do I find Brian?"
    He chokes on the sip of water he's taking. "What?" he coughs out.
    "Brian. How do I find him?" I ask, exasperated.
    "You don't, Cole. Are you out of your fucking mind?"
    "Yes, I fucking am," I shout. "I've been out of my fucking mind. I'm dying over here. I can't breathe, I can't sleep, I can't think! My mind is running marathons half the time. You know what? Forget it! I'll figure it out my own damn self!"
    He exhales sharply. "Calm down!" he bellows. "I'll take you to him. I'll fucking take you to him!"
    My eyes bug out of my face. "What? How?"
    He tells me to let him handle that and that he'll take me to meet Brian soon. I just need to give him more time, but he's running out of time with me. Meanwhile, I can't even begin to process how the hell Mr. Fucking Big Time Attorney knows Brian motherfucking Benson. Well, he is a criminal attorney, maybe he's pulling in a favor. I don't care what he's doing, I need to find my girl.
     

     
    A couple of days later, I'm standing outside my building waiting for Mark to pick me up and take me to see Brian. I hear Mark's Aston Martin before he pulls up to me and unlocks the doors. Before my ass even hits the seat, he's handing me a flask. I take it, giving him a confused look as I bring it up to my lips.
    "Trust me, you'll need it," he says as he speeds off.
    We're silent during the ride, no sounds other than the cool breeze powering out of the air vents. Comfortable silence is just about the only thing I can handle right now because I sure as shit don't want to talk, and I don't care much to hear what he has to say. Instead, I focus my attention on the LED lights that glow against the darkness before us, the only thing illuminating our journey. As my mind drifts to Blake, I stop paying attention to the roads and signs around me. Again I wonder why they have her, what they're feeding her, and where they're keeping her.
    I put my face in my hands and feel the steel of the flask hit my forehead. The pain in my chest is becoming unbearable. Why couldn't they fucking take me? I'd gladly take her place. God, please let her be okay. She has to be okay. I don't realize I'm breathing heavily until Mark places his hand on my shoulder and looks at me with concern. I take a couple of