Nothing but Darkness (Darkness Series Book 1)

by Maria Ann Green

  Maybe everything I’ve done up to this point has been leading to my new hobby. This lifestyle, my personality, everything. I think I enjoy what I’ve done because of who I am on a deeper level. There may be something missing from me that others have, and that’s why I feel no need to pair up with someone. I don’t want to be stuck with someone I’ll eventually hate. And being alone just makes it much simpler to continue with my new adventures, my playdates. I’ll never have to explain odd behavior or lengthy disappearances to anyone.

  I can feel my eyelids slowing down with sluggish defiance, knowing I’ll be able to sleep on my own tonight.

  I wonder if there’ll be a point when I’ll need to make and execute (perfect word choice) playdates for exceptional ladies in order to sleep soundly.

  Only time will tell.

  Ten minutes past kickoff I can hear Jason shuffle up my steps, followed by his muffled knocking at my door.

  “About time. I’ve been waiting on ya, kid.” I keep my face stern and my tone even-keeled.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hilarious.” He gets the reference. “The girls were whiney, and Mel didn’t want me to leave. Though, she never said I couldn’t.” His posture is slumped, but his face radiates relief.

  “Ah, the joys of family life.” I neglect to move, effectively blocking Jason’s entrance.

  “Get the hell out of my way so I can warm up inside.”

  “What’s the magic word?” Jason shakes his head in exasperation, and I can’t help it, I laugh at his irritation.

  “Twenty-four pack.” He holds up the heavy case as proof.

  “That’ll do.”

  We make our way to the couch, Jason’s smile widening. He’s always loved my choice of electronics. “Man, I wish I could have a TV half this size. Remind me again why we don’t watch every game over here?”

  “Because you’re whipped. Mel would never allow it.”

  “True.” How is he not embarrassed by that? I’ll never understand.

  “I was thinking Chinese delivery. Yeah?”

  “Great.” He’s not listening anymore as the bright colors of jerseys and turf have stolen his attention. I order without comment. If he doesn’t like what I order he can piss off. Then again, knowing Jason he’ll eat whatever arrives. His middle displays how picky he isn’t.

  The game draws on with plenty of yelling from both of us, and it’s the first time I’ve felt like a normal person, like how I used to, since The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count. I care about the touchdowns and flags without straying to thinking about blood or weapons. I begin to wonder if there are two parts to me: the vicious killer who enjoys violence and gore, and the Regular Joe who wants nothing more than football, beer, and sex.

  They won’t play well together.

  Jason inhales the food when it arrives, and I’m glad, as usual, I over-ordered. Between mouthfuls, I wonder if he has time to breathe. Evidently he does since he blurts out, “You know, after you guys left the other night, Amelia was horny.” Interesting.

  “Lucky dog,” I say, wondering if she was thinking about me.

  “Hell, yeah. I never get tired of pregnancy hormones.” I didn’t think about that explanation, but that’s probably what riled her up. “She just goes insane when she’s pregnant. She wants it all the time. I end up having to turn her down a lot.” Is he fucking serious? Jesus, marriage is stupid. It makes grown ass men say no to sex with a hot, horny woman.

  “That’s a fucking shame.”

  He nods in agreement but doesn’t add anything else of his own. Sometimes I wonder how much thinking actually goes on inside Jason’s head. He’s not an idiot, though he can play one when he wants to.

  We continue to eat, watch tackles, and talk. Jason reveals nothing else of importance throughout the afternoon. He doesn’t introduce the notion that Amelia told him she wants to ravage me, and I don’t express my newfound love of torture. We chat like we always do, and I continue to feel normal.

  As the third game of the day lingers on, Jason seems hesitant to leave. Normally he’s gone back to his little nuclear family unit before the second game even ends.

  “You’re here late tonight. What’s up?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Can’t I just spend time with my best friend?” His tone feigns annoyance, but his face reveals guilt.

  “Sure, of course. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay with you. Sure you’re all right?” Despite my hobby I’ve always been good at being Jason’s friend, and I don’t want that to change too much.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.” His sigh is huge and it’s visible throughout his whole frame. “I don’t know. I mean, you know I love my wife and kids. I love them so much. I wouldn’t trade anything for those girls. But sometimes I just get…I don’t know how to describe it. I feel claustrophobic. Sometimes I have this urge to run away.”

  He cringes. I open my mouth to respond, but he goes on.

  “I have this primal need to be stupid and dangerous. I want to make mistakes I know I can’t make with a family who counts on me. I want to act young again without the restraints that weigh me down now. I know how selfish that sounds, how horrible I am.”

  They’re normal, not horrible. But I nod.

  “I just can’t seem to force them away completely. I try, believe me, I try. Somehow they sneak back into my brain and burrow there every so often. Being a father and a husband is one of the best feelings in the entire world. Though sometimes I just want to run far away. It sounds worse out loud. I’m such an asshole.” His whole face crinkles, and he looks like he’ll collapse in on himself.

  He still doesn’t give me time to cut in. “Don’t tell Mel, okay? I know I’ll get ahold of myself. I just need to find some sort of outlet.” He takes his first pause. “I’m working on it.” Again Jason’s body sags more as he lets out a long, slow breath.

  That may be the most I’ve heard Jason speak in a long time. Normally our conversations are so give and take. He has a boring home life, it seems, and doesn’t have much to update or add about himself that often. Not in long spurts, at least. But when he does it’s never to complain. I don’t think I’ve heard one negative word about his family since he met Amelia. He must be struggling.

  “I had no idea. I’m sorry, I’m a bad friend. I should’ve noticed you were having a hard time. What can I do?” Not sure how I became the asshole, but I go with it, knowing it’ll help him feel better.

  Jason seems more relaxed since getting it off his chest. “Nothing, man. I’m sorry I just unloaded on you. It’s good just to get it out, though. I already feel better.”

  “Bullshit. I’m going to help conquer this early midlife crisis.” He’s fifteen years too young for one, anyway. Then a smile creeps across my face in a slow-but-steady march. Jason’s eyes widen as my lips spread. He’s nervous.

  He probably should be.

  “What are you thinking? You look nuts.” I can’t help but laugh, because crazy is exactly what I wanted. He shouldn’t feel bad for feeling like any normal man would after years with the same woman, tied down by little expensive tornados of pink estrogen.

  “We’re going to have a guys weekend, the one after next. Don’t ask Amelia. Tell her.” His face looks doubtful, like telling versus asking Amelia is a horrible way to get what he wants. “I’m serious. Assert yourself, don’t ask for permission. She’ll get over it. It’s better than you up and leaving when you can’t handle her crazy pregnant shit a second longer. She’ll be fine with it anyway. Just tell her next weekend, the one before our getaway, she can have a girls weekend to pamper herself. She’ll love that shit.” He starts to look excited as the idea spreads. “But when it’s our turn, we’re going to go up north. My uncle has a cabin he never uses. I went there not too long ago, and it’s great. We will bring lots of beer and flannel shirts, we’ll hunt, and watch sports. No shaving, beards are a requirement. We won’t shower if we don’t want to. We will pick our teeth and act like idiots. We’ll be real men with no thoughts of wo
men at home. How’s that sound?”

  “It’s just what I need.”

  “Good, then it’s set. That weekend we’ll take your car and head up north. If Mel gives you any grief, send her my way.” I’ll set her straight. Though I don’t think he’d like the way I’d do it. Her pussy would be sore for days. She’d have trouble walking from the sense I drilled into her.

  Oh fuck, bad friend thoughts. Keep that dirty shit about Mel contained. Use those thoughts for Kristi instead.

  Focus.

  I’m going to need to speed up my timeline for my new plans now, because I don’t think I could make it up north for a whole weekend if I’m still thinking about the waitress. Instead I should be thinking about how I did it, not how I will.

  “Well, I should get home and tell Mel about the next two weekends, then. You’re right, it’ll go over best if I tell her to have a weekend to herself before our guys time. She loves that stuff.”

  “What woman doesn’t?”

  “You’re right. You always seem to be right.”

  “It’s taken you long enough to learn that.” And with that, Jason heads home to all of his women.

  My grin is now permanent. Someone glued it to my face while I slept, I’m pretty sure.

  My plan’s started. It’s been set and is already in motion. It’s great. It’s perfect. I’m so fucking ready.

  ****

  Though I won’t write it down (I burned the last one I started) for fear it might be found, I’ve memorized every step that’ll be taken. They are:

  Step One: Call Kristi. Pretend to be a customer she’s helped before who’s starting a new business, with a fake offer for a manager’s job in Philadelphia where she has no relatives or friends. (Check.)

  Step Two: Conduct interview over the phone. Be convincing. Drop names she knows. Send a realistic contract on letterhead with matching business cards. (Check.)

  Step Three: Drive to Philly and meet her there. Conduct a second face-to-face interview in disguise. Be even more convincing. (Check.)

  Step Four: Convince her to pack up and move for said job after accepting offer. (Check.)

  Step Five: In her agreement to move, receive bonus of her saying goodbye to everyone she knows. (Check.)

  Step Six: Have lunch at Delta’s to find out when exactly she plans to leave. (I’ll do that today.)

  Step Seven: Follow Kristi on her drive out of town, and intercept her before she stops at a hotel. (To be determined.)

  Step Eight: Get creative with her kill. (So fucking excited.)

  ****

  There are several reasons this plan is amazing. I’ve thought it through as much as I could in the hours after Jason left. I stayed up way too late pulsing with excitement, staring at the ceiling.

  Some of the reasons I’ll never be caught (aka why my plan rocks): One, she thinks she has a job she’s moving for, so the individuals she’s leaving behind here won’t expect to see or hear from her in a while, if ever. Two, I used a disposable phone, purchased with cash, to make the calls, so it can’t be traced back to me. Three, I drove to Philly and paid cash the entire way. Again, fairly untraceable. Four, there’s no one actually waiting for her in Philadelphia, I checked, so it should be a long while before anyone notices she’s missing. Five, I also have no motive. She’s only met me a handful of times, she’s yet to learn my name, and she didn’t recognize me as Mr. Brian Johnson, so no one will think to question me. Even if they look into the bogus job, she went for the interview and came back unharmed. Plus the phone is long gone, wiped down, donated, and, as previously mentioned, untraceable.

  I’m fucking brilliant. I swear I turn myself on, I’m so impressed with my ingenuity.

  I think I’ll strive to have better ideas for each conquest. Maybe they won’t all take so much work, but each will be better than the last. Shiny and new plans only; nothing recycled. New means my adrenaline will amp up higher, making each more exciting.

  Great goal.

  With a bounce in my step and a whistle on my lips, I walk the short distance to Delta’s for lunch. I go alone today, no Jason, no Eva. I want to be able to speak with Kristi unencumbered by the nuisance of conversations with a tablemate. I don’t want anyone to connect me with the waitress, either.

  The hostess seats me in a high-top in Kristi’s section. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do if I was served by someone else. I got lucky there. I guess there’s always more to be considered than anticipated.

  Damn.

  Kristi hurries over in her usual fashion. She’s a good waitress. Hopefully whoever they hire to replace her isn’t awful. I’d hate to find a new lunch spot.

  “Hi, doll. What can I get ya today?” Her roots are long and a lot darker than the rest of her hair, and her makeup’s a little too heavy. She looks like a woman who is holding on too tight to the youth she once had, and, like sand, the tighter she grasps the faster she loses it. She’d probably look younger, prettier too, if she let go of a few of those expectations and wasted effort.

  “Can I get the fettuccine Alfredo, please? With the steak added. And a side salad.”

  “Of course. Dressing?”

  “Honey mustard.”

  “To drink?”

  “Coke. Lots of ice.”

  “No problem.”

  She nods, looking up for the first time since starting to write my order. There is zero recognition in her eyes. She couldn’t pull me out of a crowd as either myself or her new employer. Those eyes must have been a brilliant green when she was younger, but now they look dull with the hardships of working on her feet for who knows how many years. Her tits sag and her ass is wide. Despite all of that she looks like a genuinely happy person.

  For now.

  She’ll only have time to be happy for the next few days.

  Fuck me, this is going to be so much fun. I run the side of my thumb along the zipper of my pants thinking about what I’ll do with her. I won’t go any further than this, since I’m in public, it’s just exciting to break a small rule. After my few seconds of deviancy I pull the papers from the briefcase I toted with me from work.

  My intention is to pretend to read while eavesdropping on anything and everything I can glean regarding Kristi’s conversations. I’m hoping I won’t need to directly ask her when she’s leaving. I don’t want to draw any attention between her and me if I can help it, for obvious reasons. I want to play this as smart as I can, since this is stemming from a real plan versus The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count.

  A bit of time goes by with nothing in the realm of helpful. Kristi chats with her customers in a friendly manner, though she obviously isn’t one to divulge personal information. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll have to man up and ask her, but then I get lucky when she takes a second to catch up with the manager. I don’t even need to strain much to hear what’s being said. My luck is seriously helping me out today. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket on my way home this evening.

  “You hire anyone yet? I was hoping to help train before I leave tomorrow night.”

  Jackpot.

  Tomorrow night it is. Friday and Saturday will be good to me this weekend.

  “Yeah, just did yesterday. Actually, she’s young. Never waitressed before, but I wanted someone fast, and she seems eager. She’s nice. I’ll take all the help from you I can get. She’s coming in a few, so you can train her today and tomorrow.” Kristi’s answering smile shows how happy she is to help. She’s leaving on a good note; I don’t know if that helps or hurts me, but it’s too late to worry about that. Hopefully she doesn’t have plans to call any of these guys when she arrives in Philadelphia, because that call will never come.

  “Good. I hope she learns fast. Send her over after she’s dressed.” And with that, Kristi walks to the kitchen and back out with my food.

  “Here you go, doll. Can I get you anything else?” Her accent isn’t quite from here, I realize for the first time, and I wonder where she grew up.

  “Can I get a refill on the c
oke?”

  “Absolutely.” She rushes off, tending to my needs like the good little servant she is. Will she be as excited to appease me when I have her tied down, gagged, and bleeding?

  No, probably not.

  I continue to listen to her conversations with little added to my bank of knowledge. Though I know she’s leaving tomorrow night, I need to know when or from where. I could stake out the Grill, and follow her from here. Though, then I’d chance being seen. No thank you.

  Getting frustrated, and at the end of my lunch, I have to take the punt as she comes to collect my cash for the bill.

  “I heard you’re leaving Delta’s. What a shame,” I say, but hopefully not loud enough for anyone else to hear. Flattery works with Eva. Maybe it works with Kristi, too.

  “Tomorrow is my last shift. It’s bittersweet. I love it here, but I got an amazing offer elsewhere.” Her pride isn’t concealed well as she gushes.

  “Good for you. That’s great.”

  “You should come in for dinner tomorrow. Boss is offering a free round to everyone for a kind of goodbye party before I head out from here.” Brilliant. Who wouldn’t show up for a free drink?

  “I’ll have to do that. Good luck with your new adventure.” And I’ll have fun with mine, too. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks. See you tomorrow evening, doll.”

  I smile as she walks away. She still doesn’t know my name.

  I don’t even remember much of what happened the rest of yesterday or this afternoon. I was pretty much going through the motions, too excited for tonight to pay much attention to anything else.

  Tonight is the night.

  I can’t stop jiggling my foot. I’ve been trying to look somewhat deadpan when I’ve been in meetings or with coworkers, but alone I let my excitement brew, bubbling.

  At Delta’s I sit with Jason, Amelia, and Bee (Mel pouted to Jason until I agreed for Bee to come too. Bullied by damn Mel, I should be ashamed). I asked them out to dinner yesterday using the drinks as an excuse. I also offered to pay. That was the real clincher, more than quality time with good old Aidan; a free meal is more appetizing, I guess. Well I can’t be too offended because I’m using them just as much. I didn’t want to be here alone for the second time in as many days.