Tiffany smiled. “Not anymore. As you can see—”
“Rumors. Ain’t they a sight? Anybody can see that you’re fit as a fiddle. Don’t put much stock in rumors myself. The media, what do they know?”
Tiffany listened as the man rattled on, her eyes darting around to see where Joni was. Just as she suspected, Joni was clawing through a costume rack of bright colored shawls, the look on her face as excited as a child in Santa’s toy factory. Turning back to the man, she smiled thinly, knowing that if she spoke she wouldn’t be allowed to finish a sentence. The moment she heard a pause she jumped right in. “Yes, now, Mr.—”
Billy stopped her, waving his finger in front of her face. “Uh, uh, uh.”
She smiled, correcting herself. “Billy—”
“That’s right,” he said, as proud of her as if she’d just got an A on an exam.
“I was just…” She paused, waiting.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh…nothing,” Tiffany said, knowing she’d stopped because she expected him to interrupt her. Thankful that she at last had the floor, she continued while she kept one eye on Joni who busied herself across the room heaving an armful of the bright shawls, glittering combs and headbands to the cash register.
At the same time, she happened to see something hanging on a nearby rack. “That’s it!” she cried out and ran over to it. “Actually,” she said as she stood examining the whole thing. “I only need part of it.”
“But, Ms. Lovelace, I can’t just sell you part of a costume. It’s the whole thing or nothin’. Surely you can understand. If I just sell you part of it, what am I gonna do with the rest? Nobody’d want it. I’d lose money.”
“All right,” Tiffany said with a sigh. “Wrap it up.”
On their way back to Mystic Island, Tiffany was very thoughtful and didn’t talk much.
* * * *
“Hey, wanna see what I bought?”
“Sure,” Tiffany said, sounding less than interested.
Joni dipped into her bag and began unwrapping some of her packages. She spread the shawl around her, put on the earrings, and the headband, and turned to Tiffany.
Tiffany smiled when she saw all of her outrageous trinkets. Looking from one to the other, she frowned and said, “Euuuh! Ugly!”
Joni giggled, feeling as if she had just received Tiffany’s highest praise. “Yeah, ain’t they a gas?”
Tiffany laughed at Joni, and shook her head, hoping she would never change.
While Joni was re-wrapping the rest of her purchases, Tiffany lapsed into another silent period.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Joni asked.
“Oh, nothing. I’ve just got a lot of things on my mind.” After a few minutes, she asked, “Hey, how about staying for dinner tonight? I’m sure Elaine wouldn’t mind.”
“Gee, Tiffany I wish you’d asked me sooner. I’ve already got plans. You’ll ask me again, won’t you?”
“Oh, sure.” Tiffany smiled mischievously. “I just thought you might want to meet Mr. Universe.”
“Any other time I’d love it, but it’s kind of late in the day to cancel. Sorry.”
“No problem. We’ll do it some other time.” When Tiffany let Joni out in front of her house she called out, “Enjoy your treasures.”
Dressed up in the headband, shawl, and earrings, Joni struck a pose, and waved. Tiffany laughed as she drove off, knowing Joni was probably the only thing that was keeping her from going absolutely mad.
When Tiffany walked in, the house seemed to be empty. It was well before dinnertime, so she quietly hurried up to her room and closed the door and locked it. She put the large box on the bed, sat down beside it and nervously began untying the string around it. She just couldn’t help getting excited. If this worked, Kirk might come out of his basement and walk among the living again. Finally easing off the top of the box, she smiled while looking down at the unusual, gray, cutaway item on top—the mask!
Chapter 11
AS Kirk watched Elaine place his dinner tray on the table, he noticed the small, square of paper sticking out from under his plate. “Take it back!” he barked.
“What? You’re not hungry?”
“The note. Take it back.”
“Kirk, don’t treat her like this. She’s trying to make friends.”
“I don’t need a friend,” he spat angrily, turning his back on his sister. “I said, take it back.”
Elaine hesitated for a moment before she finally relented, “All right. I’ll take it back, but I think you’re turning into the monster Quinn accuses you of being.”
“What in hell do you expect? Day after day in this miserable darkness. It’s a wonder I’m still sane.”
“All right, move out of this place. Turn on a friggin’ lamp. No one’s forcing you to stay down here.”
“And see what, Elaine? If I turn on a lamp I’ll see scars, and ten wasted years.” He thrust his wrists out to her. “The next time it’ll take, Elaine. I’ll make sure.”
Seeing the horrible red scars, Elaine put a hand up to her mouth and gasped. Her gaze shifted toward his tray where she saw a knife. “That door’s not locked, Kirk,” she said, her voice trembling. “You can come up any time you want.”
“If it was only a locked door, hell, I could handle that. A lock can be forced, windows can be broken. There’s always a way out, but the scars on my face—let’s just say there hasn’t been a lock invented that’s stronger than they are.”
“Kirk, all I know is, if you ruin this chance, you’ll never come out of this dungeon. Someone all alone like you gets the chance to make friends with a beautiful, caring woman and you won’t even give her a tumble. Just because you’re afraid of showing a few scars and—”
“A few scars? My God, Elaine. A few scars is what you get when you get caught in a bramble bush. My face has been ripped to shreds and you know it.” Kirk hesitated a moment before he continued, a sadness in his voice. “The truth is, I just couldn’t stand the word ‘monster’ coming out of her mouth, Elaine. It would kill me. I can take it from Quinn, but not from Tiffany. When I pulled Quinn off her the other day I saw the fear on her face. I thought she was going to scream. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had.” He turned back toward the wall. “Take the note back. I just can’t take the chance.”
Elaine sneaked a gaze toward the note, reached down and lifted the edge of his plate and began pulling on it, but stopped. With Kirk’s face still turned toward the wall, she released the little piece of paper and picked up the knife instead. “Okay, it’s gone,” she said while moving toward the door. As she opened it to leave, she turned back toward his silhouette and said softly, “See you later.”
Thinking Elaine was gone, Kirk walked over to the tray, sat down and began eating. By chance he noticed the little square peeking out from under his plate. “Elaine!” he shouted angrily. “You forgot something.”
She stood there gazing at him lovingly. “Maybe she won’t reject you, Kirk. But you’ll never know unless you take the chance. We all have to take chances sometime, even you.”
Kirk jumped up and stalked toward the door while Elaine turned and ran toward the stairs. “You’re a bitch! Both of you! Two miserable, goddamned, fucking…” His words faded while he clutched the bars in his hands and leaned his head on one. With pain cutting through him, his shoulders shook with sobs. Finally wiping at his face, he mumbled, “Damned woman. Since she’s been here, I’ve become a blithering idiot.”
He turned, walked back to the tray and sat down. Just because Elaine hadn’t taken it didn’t mean that he had to read it. With that in mind he picked up his utensils and began to eat, ignoring the note completely. But it was hard. Even though he hid it underneath his plate, he sensed its presence, turning his dinner into a hard rock in his stomach. Finally, he pulled it out.
Hello, Kirk.
I hope you’re feeling better. I got your answer to
the note I sent you, and was very hurt, but I understand. Sending notes back and forth makes me feel like a teenager. I wish you would come up and see me, or let me come down to you. I hope you’re feeling better today. I saw you out on the beach yesterday. I wanted to come out and walk with you, but I guess you didn’t want company. I care about you, Kirk, and all I want to do is help. Think about it, okay?
Sleep well.
Tiffany
Kirk crumpled up the paper and threw it down. He continued eating with one eye on his food and the other on the little white ball of paper that had rolled over into the corner.
* * * *
Elaine had a headache and decided to go to bed early. She left the dinner for Venita to serve, and her absence left only Quinn and Tiffany in the dining room.
“Elaine tells me you went into Atlantic City this afternoon.” Giving her a curious glance, he asked, “What for?”
“No reason. I just had to get out for a while.”
“Atlantic City’s not around the corner, Tiffany. You must have gone in for something, now what was it?”
“None of your business, Quinn. And I don’t appreciate being given the third degree every time I step out of the house.”
Anger speared through Quinn, and he opened his mouth, but immediately closed it, changing his mind. He had to watch himself—play the nice guy for her. He’d known the minute she got her car back she’d be running all over the place. It was why he didn’t want her to have it. Still, it was ridiculous to expect her to stay cooped up all day. He knew she’d stay longer if she didn’t have restrictions, so he relaxed, letting the retort die on his curling lips.
At that moment Venita came in to serve dinner. She was dressed in a very cute little uniform that resembled an upstairs maid.
“What’s this?” Tiffany asked, sounding surprised.
“It’s nothing much, just—”
“You’re not kidding!”
“I like the help to look—” Quinn raised one brow, “interesting.”
“That’s not the word I was thinking of,” Tiffany said as if she were trying to hide a snicker. “Naked would cover it nicely, no pun intended.”
Quinn smiled, thinking his plan was working.
*
Tiffany watched as Venita served Quinn. She smiled down into his face, and when she leaned over in front of him, her cleavage bounced as she moved. Quinn was lapping it up and making sure Tiffany didn’t miss a thing. While eating her food and struggling with an amused twitch on her lips, Tiffany watched the show all evening. It included Venita acting like a little tramp, and Quinn busy touching, feeling, and laughing, always checking that Tiffany was watching, of course.
Finally, Tiffany went up to her room. Before long she heard the two come up the stairs being anything but quiet. Since Quinn’s room was right next to hers, she spent the night listening to moans and groans, squeaking bedsprings, and the sound of a sturdy headboard bumping up against the wall. She ultimately tried putting the pillow over her head, but it did no good.
When she finally did go to sleep she dreamed of being caught up in a tornado, and when she landed she was in Oz. Only Oz wasn’t a world of cute little munchkins and a yellow brick road. Instead, she saw a misty old mansion, and when she crept up to the front door and knocked, Frankenstein and Dracula answered. She sat straight up in bed, sweating. The noise next door had stopped, so she turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t.
She finally gave up and turned on the light, deciding to read. When she couldn’t find anything she paced around the room for a while before she finally walked out onto the balcony. Nothing helped, so she settled on having some warm milk, and turned toward the kitchen. She felt very small as she crept down the stairs. She’d never been out of her room this late at night, and the creepy old mansion was full of shadows waiting to jump out at her. That made her think of Kirk, and the fact that everyone in the house was asleep.
She stood in the middle of the cavernous room listening to the quiet, deciding that now would be the perfect time to go down and see Kirk without Quinn knowing. Did she dare? If Quinn somehow found out it would be awful. She felt a tremor of fear go through her as her eyes darted toward the doorway that was nestled beneath the large staircase.
She was nervous, but she just couldn’t let this chance pass her by. Finally, with her mind made up, she crept toward the half-hidden door. With each step she took, excitement grew inside her at the idea of seeing Kirk. She gently turned the knob, pulled, and winced when the door expelled a painful squeak. The musty odor greeted her as she moved inside and began a gradual descent down the dark, uneven steps.
When she finally got to the bottom, she wound around the narrow hallway until she was finally standing in front of his door and called out in a loud whisper, “Kirk!”
No answer.
A little louder. “Kirk!”
With no response, she put her hands on the bars and rattled the door.
*
Hearing the noise, Kirk turned and couldn’t believe what he saw. Tiffany was standing there in a little nightie that would drive him crazy if he gave it the chance.
He hesitantly swung his legs down to the floor and sat up. “What in hell are you doing here?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m selling Avon for God’s sake. Now, let me in.”
“Sorry, makeup won’t help, so get lost.”
“Kirk, please. I just want to talk to you. Is that so wrong?”
Kirk impatiently buried his head in his hands. “Tiffany, if Quinn finds you down here, he’s going to string us both up to the nearest tree. Now go away.”
“We wouldn’t have to resort to sneaking around if you’d just come up and see me. Didn’t you read my note?”
“Yes, I read it.”
“Well?”
“I want you to leave me alone. I don’t need your help or your sympathy. I told you that already. What the hell’s wrong, Tiffany? Hasn’t any man ever said no to you before?”
“Let me in and we’ll talk about it.”
Kirk lowered his head, raking his hands through his hair as he sat there.
*
Tiffany could only see a dim outline of Kirk in the darkness. Before she knew it, the dark, hulking figure appeared before her, a well-placed shadow mysteriously covering his head. He was dressed in a short, dark blue bathrobe hanging loose with nothing underneath but briefs. Tiffany almost swallowed her tongue. She was surprised to notice how muscled he was. She felt her face coloring, never realizing what Kirk had hidden beneath his clothes. His chest was covered with hair. He was extremely well built, and his legs were incredible, and so was everything else.
Frowning down at her, Kirk reached down and noisily opened the door for her.
She edged her way in, halting when he moved in front of her, purposely barring her way. “You’re only staying for a moment.”
Tiffany was standing so close to him, she could actually feel heat coming from his body. A hot flutter began in her groin and spread. He finally stepped out of her way and she walked in peering around, not being able to see much in the darkness.
“Is there a light?”
“I like it dark.”
“But, Kirk, I can’t see you.”
“What in hell do you think there is to see?”
“But I want to see you.”
“I look better in the dark.”
She walked up to him and lifted her hand to his scars. His hand went up and covered hers, pulling it down.
“Lady, what in hell do you want? What are you here for, to make fun of the poor freak? You’re only half dressed, for God’s sake. What in hell do you think that does to me? Don’t you think I have any feelings? Or maybe you think I’m made of wood.”
For the first time Tiffany noticed her baby doll nightie, not realizing what she was wearing. Her hands went up in an effort to hide her breasts, but it was useless. “I’m sorry, Kirk, I
didn’t realize. I’m so used to living alone, I just forgot. Does it bother you that much?”
“What in hell do you expect? Just because my face is messed up doesn’t mean I’m not normal in every other way. Now get out before I lose control.”
“You want me, Kirk?” Tiffany’s voice was soft. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m a normal man, and I’m standing here talking to a woman who’s practically naked. Now what do you think?”
She followed his glowing gaze as it lowered to the soft black lace that cupped her breasts, and felt naked. She knew that the material was thin, and her nipples were outlined against the material, but didn’t expect it when he reached out, grabbed her hair and pulled her to him. His muscular chest was hard, and her breasts were practically flattened against him.
“Why did you come down here? You want a sample of how a monster makes love? Just stick around a little longer, and I have no doubt you’ll get a lesson you’ll never forget.”
With a bold, intense stare she dared him to carry out his threat.
They gazed at each other intently until Kirk pushed her away. “Go back upstairs where you’ll be safe. I’m dangerous right now.”
“I like dangerous men,” Tiffany whispered. “Every one of my male heroes are dark and dangerous. Just like you, Kirk, they’re dark and dangerous, and daring and bold.”
“Are they freaks?” he yelled.
“Kirk, you’re not a freak. But I’ll tell you what you are. When you’re not fighting against it, you’re warm, sweet, tender, and very passionate.”
His gaze shot fire. “Warm?” He pointed at the bed. “You want a sample of how warm I can be? On fire would be more like it. And sweet, huh? For two cents I’d rip that tiny little thing right off you. And if it’s tender you want, just stick around while I give the word a new meaning. If you stay in here one minute longer, you’ll find out how tender I can be. Oh yeah, passionate. Well, you can bet I’m passionate. I haven’t had a woman in ten years. You ain’t seen passion, lady, like you’re gonna see it if you don’t get outta here, now!”
Frankenstein In Love Page 12
