This Darkest Man

by West, Sinden

  “It’s like dining with a child.” The words were simple but they cut. There was no humor in them and they made me feel about two feet tall. I wiped at the smear with a napkin while he carried on his one sided conversation and didn’t seem to notice that I barely spoke after that.

  “You want to get outta here?” Clay asked. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”

  “Sure.” I grabbed my bag as he threw some cash on the table before following him out.

  The storm followed us home with the landscape changing to dark grey and winds coming out of nowhere. I ran for the house and the safety of the porch while Clay put his bike in the shed next to my car. By the time he made it inside, he was soaking wet and started to strip off immediately.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll take a look at the documents and jewelry,” he told me before starting up the stairs. I watched him go. He wore only boxer shorts and I loved watching how the muscles moved underneath his skin. When I caught myself staring, I gave a small laugh at my stupidity and turned away. I was acting like I was love-struck. It had never been like this with Josh. With him, I had just considered myself lucky that he wanted to be with me. I had never thought anyone would want go out with me, and while I was immensely flattered and did whatever he said, in hindsight, I never had any real feelings for him. He especially didn’t look like Clay. Josh was softer and slimmer; an intellectual who had big plans to take over the world. I didn’t really know why he bothered with me in the first place, or decided to pursue me after I broke things off, I would never be good enough to be his wife anyway. He had made it very apparent that I lacked so many qualities that he desired, even after I had done that awful thing.

  The safe was in the parlor and embedded in the wall. My forebears had chosen the very unoriginal route of hiding it behind a painting. A severe looking woman who was probably Aunt Anna’s great-great grandmother stared down at me, her lips pursed in disapproval as I lifted her off the wall and placed her down to lean against the wallpaper. I turned her to face that awful floral wallpaper which covered every inch of the place like it was some kind of virus. She was probably the culprit who had chosen it.

  The combination was simple; it was my father’s birthday. It was weird that I never forgot it. It was always celebrated with elaborate parties in which my mother would dress me in a fussy outfit to compensate for the fact that I wasn’t as beautiful or clever as she wanted me to be. Those parties, and those awful outfits, would turn out to be paid for by other people’s stolen money. He ripped off the old and the wealthy with his silver tongue and slick suits. There were death threats and once a dead cat left on our doorstep once his illicit dealings came to light. I found the cat. It was hidden in the box of a fancy chocolatier and the doorman had handed it to me as I came home from school. On the whole way to the top floor I had stared at that box and salivated over what was inside. The minute I was inside, I let my school bag drop to the floor and pulled off the top, expecting a selection of delectable treats, the kind that my mother never let in the house for fear of ruining her figure. Instead, I got that poor goddamn cat.

  Chapter Six

  The jewelry all sat in a simple wooden box with Larsen carved on the top. It sat there in a jumble because Aunt Anna frowned against vanity of any kind; that was probably one of the reasons she disliked my mother so much. I carefully opened the box and the hinges creaked as if in protest at being removed from their dark hiding place.

  Nothing really looked like it was of value. None of it compared to the flashing diamonds and other gems, which my mother had worn on her fingers. It was probably more sentimental in value than anything. All of it was mostly sedate which suited my family who had believed that money was to be taken care of and simple living should be the rule. My father, of course, was the exception to that rule. And someone else in the family tree must have also broken the rule, because apart from the land, any fortunes were gone by the time I came along.

  I sat down on the floor and carefully removed each item and placed it on the coffee table. The stairs creaked to signal that Clay was coming down. Unfortunately, he was clothed now, and rubbed at his hair with a towel.

  “Hey. What have you got there?” He sat beside me on the floor, stretching out his long legs.

  “Just sorting out the jewelry, I’ve never really had a proper look before.” I pulled out a simple wedding band that was in need of a good clean. It was small and must have belonged to a woman. I could just imagine some austere Larsen purchasing it and recording it like any business transaction as if marriage were a duty and romance a nonsensical notion. I smiled; I could just imagine Josh doing the same thing.

  “What are you smiling at?” Clay asked, peering at me curiously. I must have looked stupid with this smile on my face.

  “Nothing.” I resumed pulling pieces out of the box. “I don’t think that there’s much here that’s interesting. Mostly wedding bands and cufflinks.” Then I spied the red stone and fished it out. It was a small ring with a garnet set in silver. Somehow, despite its confinement, it had kept its shine. “This is the most interesting piece so far.” I held it up to show him and that’s when I caught sight of the engraving.

  “To M, Fate makes you mine, Love Always, D,” I read aloud. “That’s romantic. Thank god some of my relatives had romantic bones in their bodies. I was beginning to lose hope.”

  “May I?”

  I placed the ring in his outstretched hand and watched as he began to turn it around and examine it carefully.

  “I wonder if it belonged to the skeleton. It would be nice to think that someone loved her before she died.” Then I frowned. “Unless the person who gave her this ring was the one to wall her up.” I shivered. “That doesn’t bear thinking about…”

  His eyes were still firmly trained on that ring as if he were entranced by it. I wondered if he was listening to me, but then he spoke. “You know what? I’m not really in the mood for going over all of this today. I’ll concentrate better tomorrow. I’ll pack this all up, and then let’s have an early dinner. I don’t know about you, but that food at the diner was pretty bad.”

  I laughed in reply. “Yeah. It was. I’ll heat us up some soup.”

  “That’d be great. I’ll take care of all of this.” He indicated to the jewelry sitting out on the coffee table before he started to place it back in the box.

  Before I put the soup on, I went down to the basement to grab a bottle of wine. As I reached for the bottle, I felt something cold on my neck, but I didn’t scream or freak out. I had spent a lot of my childhood down here and these occurrences weren’t rare. I turned, and of course there was nothing but the gaping hole in the wall.

  “Are you the lady in the wall?” I asked softly. “Is it your ring that I found? Are you M?”

  But there was nothing in response, and I took two bottles firmly in hand and started up the stairs. Clay was waiting for me in the kitchen and took the wine from me.

  “The box is back in the safe.” He moved to the cabinet and removed two wine glasses.

  “Thank you.” I began to heat up the pre-made soup that I had purchased. Because I didn’t go into town that often, I had a lot of ready-made items. At least, that was what I told myself; it was easier to pretend my isolation out here was the reason for it, but the truth was that even if I were in the city, I still would probably only be cooking for one.

  He filled a glass with merlot and placed it beside me, a grin of his face.

  I frowned. “What?”

  He didn’t wipe the smile from his face. “It’s just that you’re heating soup up from a can. I always think of you as the homely type who cooks from scratch.”

  I laughed. “Why would you think that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just because you’re so sweet and you strike me as the homemaker type with a dozen kids running around your feet.”

  “Kids? I can’t even imagine that.” I stirred the soup, which was beginning to boil. The idea of me
making anything from scratch was laughable. I was a terrible cook. “How about you? Do you want kids?”

  He shook his head as he leaned against the counter beside me and sipped his wine. “No way. I definitely do not want children.”

  “You sound so sure. I mean, you’re still young, you might change your mind.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m thirty-four and I have never had the desire.” He looked serious for a moment before relaxing. “I think that you’d make a great Mom though.”

  “Oh, really? I might decide to be like mine and never rise before noon and always order in,” I teased. “What was yours like?”

  He took another sip of wine, and it seemed like he was thinking carefully about his answer. “She was…troubled.”

  “I’m sorry. Whatever ‘troubled’ means, it can’t have been much fun growing up with,” I told him, and hoped that I sounded genuine.

  He met my eyes for a second, that serious look had reappeared, and then he seemed to shrug it off and took a breath. “I’ll grab some bowls. Which cupboard?”

  I pointed and he pulled two down and placed them beside me so I could pour the soup in. The electricity flickered off again, but it was still dusk and Clay effortlessly located the candles and matches like he’d lived here forever. As the candlelight illuminated the wine, it appeared the exact red of the garnet in the silver ring. I wondered what mysteries that ring held, and hoped that any secrets were innocent.

  “Have you read many of the books here?” Clay asked as we dined together.

  “Nearly all of them.” I took a sip of my wine. “I used to have a stutter when I was a kid and my aunt would make me stand in the parlor after dinner each night and read passages until I managed to get them right.”

  He frowned. “She sounds like a witch.”

  I let out a laugh. “That’s what the local kids always called her. Actually though, I think it was her way of trying to help me. My parents didn’t really have the time.” Or the inclination, I silently added.

  “What did she make you read?” he asked, draining his glass before topping up his and then mine.

  “Edgar Allan Poe mostly. I think I still remember most of them off by heart.”

  “Creepy. Or so I hear. I’m not really one for reading.”

  “Really? That’s surprising considering you have a PhD in history.” I remembered the “Dr” before his name on the book jacket of one of his books that he’d brought with him.

  He caught my eyes and looked suddenly serious before relaxing into an easy smile. “Fiction, I meant.”

  “Oh, okay.” I reached for my wine. “I’ll show you the family bible tomorrow. It’s locked away in a desk because it’s so old and fragile. It goes back about a hundred years and has the family tree recorded in it.” I should have really shown it to him long before this, but secretly I just wanted to stretch out his time with me as much as possible. I nearly cringed at how needy I was being.

  “That would be great, Mattie.” He eyed my glass and grinned. “Anyway, drink up. I love when you’re drunk. You’re so uninhibited. It’s great.”

  “Am I?” That didn’t sound like me.

  “Yeah. You’re this demure, shy thing during the day, but at night you turn into a wildcat.” He made claw like motions with his fingers.

  I laughed. “Stop teasing.” But I didn’t mind because he was kind, not like Josh and his mocking. I drank up just like he said.

  “It’s not teasing. It’s truth.”

  When my glass was empty, he gently took it from my hand and placed it down on the table. “Will you undress for me?” he asked. “Slowly, in the candlelight so I can see every curve and contour of your body.

  I could see the lust in his eyes, and it empowered me. I felt desirable and worshipped by what I saw there. I stood slowly, and started to slide my clothes from my skin. I wore a black bra and panty set courtesy of Erin. It had never been worn before, and as I had slipped on the delicate garments that morning, I had paused to admire myself. Suddenly, I saw a woman instead of that downtrodden little girl who did whatever she was told and believed those around her when they called her ugly and stupid.

  As I stood in just the bra and panties, I boldly moved forward to where he was seated and positioned myself between his legs as I rested my hands on his shoulder. I could feel his hard muscles beneath his clothes and I desperately wanted to feel his bare skin.

  “Your turn,” I told him softly with a seduction that surprised even me.

  “Gladly.” A half smiled played on his lips as he started to strip on my command. I bit my lip as I waited for him to be naked and start to touch me. He did not disappoint.

  We caught each other’s eyes in the dim light, and for a moment neither of us moved as if we were spellbound. Then he broke it. His hands reached down to scoop me up and place me on the table, flat on my back as his lips hungrily came down on mine. For a brief moment, visions of a lion tearing at his prey came to me, but then they disappeared as a fog of lust prevented any coherent thought from forming in my brain. My body responded with an equal hunger as my hands clawed into his ass as he leaned over me, urging him closer and closer. I wanted him in me, on me, I needed him now.

  Like he read my unstable and frenzied mind, he thrust into me with his own sense of urgency, and my legs wrapped around him to pull and hold him to me as I arched up to meet him. I inhaled his scent, licked at his skin, and bit down on his shoulder as I began to clench around him. He hissed as I bit before giving a half laugh and covering my mouth with his.

  He flipped us so I could ride him. I ground down hard on him while he grinned up at me, his hands gripping at my breasts as I arched my back to thrust them forward into his touch. They felt full and heavy, and unbelievably sensitive. I cried out as I came, swearing like I was possessed.

  Later, we screwed on the staircase, and then after, we ended up in my bed. I lay with my head resting on his chest as we both struggled to get our breaths back. I traced his muscles with my finger and let out a laugh that was drowsy and exhausted.

  “What?” he asked as he stroked my hair.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell him that I couldn’t believe that someone who looked like him was in my childhood bed. It was hard to believe that the shy, lonely girl who had sometimes cried herself to sleep in this room had someone like him lusting after her. I couldn’t tell him any of this, so I responded by kissing him instead. He seemed content with that.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunlight slipping in through a crack in the curtain woke me first. I opened my eyes slightly and reached for Clay. But he wasn’t there. My bed was empty. I sat up and reached for my robe, covering my skin that still smelled like him and lust. I grinned as I tied the robe around me, remembering the things that we had done last night. I had felt so alive, and for the first time, I felt like a creature with some kind of power, even if it were only sexual.

  I stepped into the hallway, expecting to hear him down below in the kitchen, but there was only silence. The door to his bedroom was wide open and the bed neatly made. I peered inside, and stopped with a silent dread as I saw what wasn’t there. The floor, the shelves…they were all bare. I nearly choked, and took a step back, spinning on my heel and heading for the bathroom. But his things were all gone from there as well.

  I ran down the stairs, and it took me less than a minute to realize that I was the only living soul in the house. Still clad in my robe and barefoot, I ran outside and across to the shed. The old doors creaked ominously as I yanked them open to reveal only an empty space next to my car. For a moment, I struggled to breathe. The old shed could have collapsed right then on top of me and I wouldn’t have cared. I managed to drag in several deep breaths before walking back to the house as I blinked back tears.

  Once the door was safely closed behind me, I leaned against it and slid down to the floor as I blinked back tears. You’re so stupid, Matilda, I told myself. Stop acting so stupid. He left, so what? He didn’t promise you anything
, he didn’t tell you that you were special. It was only lust and your stupid weak starving heart thought it was something more…

  I must have sat there for at least an hour, misery making the time pass more slowly. I was determined not to cry. I should have gotten to my feet and showered. I should have shrugged off the whole affair for what it was —a fun fling. I had nearly talked myself into moving when a sharp rap at the door had me jumping to my feet in fright. I pulled the door open, my heart in my throat at the thought that Clay had returned.

  But it wasn’t him. It was Marie peering at me oddly. “Are you sick, dear? Is that man still here to look after you?”

  I pulled my robe tighter around me. “Um, no, he’s gone,” I said weakly.

  “I see.” She gave a slight nod. “Well, I’m here now. Let me make you some tea or something.”

  “That’s not necessary—“

  She barged past me anyway and went to the kitchen. I stared after her before closing the door and following. I sat at the table and watched as she busied herself heating water and looking through cupboards until she found everything she needed while I sat helplessly and mute. When she had two mugs filled with steaming hot tea, she sat down beside me.

  “It’s quite concerning a young girl living all the way out here alone,” she told me. “Doesn’t your mother worry?”

  I wrapped my hands around the mug and welcomed the burn that I felt. “We’re estranged.”

  She gave a nod and didn’t seem surprised by that information as she reached into her bag. “I’d better confess my motives for being here. I picked up your mail and I couldn’t help but notice this.” She tapped on the envelope that she had pulled out and the black and red logo of the Hellman Corporation glared at me. I let out a groan and really did feel like being sick, but I took it from her anyway. I had pushed it out of my mind for the last few days, but it obviously wasn’t going anywhere. “The thing is they’ve approached us about buying the land that we lease from you. My husband and I want to buy it; we’ve done well in recent years and would like to expand.” She cleared her throat. “The only thing is…I know that they’re taking the land from you and I feel bad—“