by Aven Jayce
“Sit.” I move the desk chair to the middle of the room. She looks at it with a hand clasping the neck of her robe, closing it like she’s hiding her body from a stranger.
“I said, sit down.”
“Is this a sexual thing? We just did it an hour ago. You can’t possibly—”
“Sit the fuck down!”
“No.” She takes a step back. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
The rage I felt while speaking with Cove in the bar has returned. I walk past her; fuming that she won’t listen to my command. The nightstand’s opened in haste and two pairs of cuffs brought out and cracked in the air.
“What are you doing?”
I position her arms behind her back, cuffing her wrists and ankles to the chair. She tries to knee my nuts, calling me a fuckwad this and a bastard that.
“Where’s your blade?” I ask.
“What the hell? I’m not answering until you tell me whether or not this is for fun.”
“Ohhh, yeah. It’s a very special game. Where’s JAB?”
“It’s always under my pillow at night.” She tilts her head toward the bed. “Mark, you just came. The butter’s still on your boxers and I can see you’re not erect. Give it a rest.”
“I don’t need to be erect for this, besides you’ll be the one at rest when this is over, not me.” The blade flips open and I place it over her lips. After two long, exaggerated breaths, she gives in, believing it’s time for foreplay. Her tongue emerges, gliding along the metal, leaving a slick trail of saliva. With a nod of her head to her waist, she opens her legs, wanting me to lick her pussy.
“Where are you going now?” she asks. “Oh, I hear that dresser drawer... should’ve known you’d smoke before you put your mouth on me. Weed first, pussy second. At least give me a hit.” She tries to turn the chair in my direction, leaning until it tips—then saying, ‘fuck,’ when she’s near a sideward fall. Her weight shifts in an instant so she doesn’t drop to the floor. “I’m not feeling this tonight... hey, Mark?”
My leather backless slippers disappear under the drifted snow as I walk onto the deck off my bedroom... my dick cowers from the blast of cold air and my nipples go hard.
I light the bowl and inhale. Eyes closed. Smoke blown. Another drag... another puff into the winter night. Shit, I don’t want to kill her. I hope she doesn’t know.
“Mark, it’s freezing in here. Can you close the door?”
Soft moonlight breaks through the clouds, causing the distant pines to become black silhouettes. Their shadows dance on the snow covered ground each time the wind cuts across my property. There’s a splash in the pool to my left, steam rising over the water, and the sound of an owl whoo-hoooing to my right, hiding in the trees. The snowflakes tumbling to the ground have become sporadic, no longer blanketing my hotel in a blinding descent.
“My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me,” I sing in my faintest voice. “I’m going where the cold wind blows... In the pines, in the pines, where the sun no longer shines...”
Goddamn pussy ruins my life every time.
I take a final drag from the bowl, exhaling toward the clouded sky, watching a lone star flicker and disappear. Precision. Clear your thoughts. Be sure.
Who-hooo. Who-hooo.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Who-hooo.
I pull out my gun and point it at a distant pine.
“Mark! It’s cold in here.”
“Bang. One shot and you’re dead, pop-eyed, thick-clawed, piece of shit prey.” I pretend to shoot then blow on the muzzle like I just finished a duel in a classic 50s western, putting the gun back in my holster before heading inside.
“Why aren’t you talking?” she asks.
I tip the chair and drag her next to the bed.
“Hello? Mark Jameson? Open your fucking mouth and say something! Are you going to play a man in the dark shadows all night? I don’t like it one bit. You know how much I enjoy hearing your voice, even when you’re being a dick, it’s better than the silent treatment... hey, talk to me!”
I sit before her, grasp the back of her legs, and slide the chair closer to the bed.
“Go ahead. Go down on me if this is what we’re doing. I promise I won’t close my legs on your head to get you back for being such a prick.” Her knees separate and the white robe falls open, exposing a tit. Perfect. The blade runs along her neck, to her chest, and circles an erect nipple. “Damn it, please say something.”
I take out my cell and make a call.
“Yeah?” Cove answers.
“Did you tell Soph we had a nice conversation in the bar?”
“No.”
“You still down there?”
“Yeah.”
“He still there?”
“No.”
“You have time to come to my suite?”
“Yep.”
“Remember my code?”
“Yeah.”
“You doing okay, or what?”
“No. I’m a bit on edge... and I’m trying to text Xavier while talking to you. Having two conversations at once... but I’ll be right there.”
I toss the cell on the nightstand and lean back, resting on my elbows. “We need to talk, princess.”
“Finally. Why’s Cove coming over? You better not have some sick idea of a threesome, that’s not my thing. I already told you—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Stop,” she whispers. “You’re scaring me.”
“Well then, let’s go ahead and start with all the alarming bullshit I heard tonight, ‘cause you’re scaring me. We’ll start with something easy... are Cove and Sophia renewing their vows?”
“Damn it. Why did he tell you? It’s supposed to be a secret! I knew you shouldn’t have gone to the bar. So this is why you’re angry?”
“Secrets. I fucking hate them.” The blade travels back to her neck, resting over her jugular. “And you know I hate liars even more.”
“Not telling you isn’t a lie! Uncuff me!” She wiggles for freedom, her face on fire. If she’s released, I’m sure I’ll be slapped. “I don’t understand why you’d be so upset over such a special event. It’s your sister after all.”
I clutch her thighs, stopping her movement. “Look at me.” I lower my head. “Look at my face when I say this... you never told me you were living in your car, you lied about Mera, you didn’t call after the incident behind the bar, I’m unsure I’d even know you knifed that guy if I wasn’t there.” She tries to turn her head, but I capture her chin, holding it steady. “Fucking look at me.”
“Don’t,” she cautions. “Why are you doing this?”
“Listen,” my voice rises. “I can’t even count the number of lies you told me about the fucking shopping trip, and I’m sure there were many more over the past year.”
“Mark.” Her lip quivers, and a puzzled expression appears. “What’s wrong?”
“All of those moments are nothing, meaningless next to the news I heard about your father. First, is there a reason you didn’t tell me he was an embalmer? And for fuck’s sake, you better have a good answer.” I release her chin, hearing the entry door click open.
“Mark?”
“Upstairs!” I shout to Cove.
“Why is he here?” she asks in a faint voice. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
He walks in, holding his cell, shaking his head at the scene.
“What did she say?” he asks.
“Nothing, yet.” I motion to the club chair next to the nightstand. “Join us. I need you here for this.”
“Only if you close her robe, put on a pair of pants, and put away the knife, otherwise I’m outta here, especially if you plan on cutting her open.”
“What? Oh, fuck that. Stop goofing around and let me go. This is ridiculous. Why get so upset about a stupid fib over a wedding? And my Dad? Yes, he’s an embalmer. So fucking what? Why is that an issue? I didn’t lie!”
She twists her body fiercely for an escape, becoming a tornadic wind. Her hair swings. The chair tilts. And down she goes—flat on her back.
“Ow!” Her feet wiggle and she screams. “My arms! Let me go, it hurts! The chair’s on my arms!”
I can’t stand it when she gets frenzied like this. Makes me want to stuff her mouth with a sock. And it’d be worse if I hadn’t cuffed her. This out-of-control burst in behavior would be directed toward me, but at this moment it’s aimed at her release.
“Stop jerking, or next time I’ll leave you on the floor,” I say, pulling her back to our level and securing her robe shut. “We’re going to have a conversation, the three of us, and I want you,” I point at her, “to keep your head up, body still, and pay attention. Not another word except to answer our questions.”
“Fuck you, Mark. If this is a prank, it stinks to high heaven! It’s not funny! Stop smoking so much dope and be nice to me!”
“No pranks.”
Cove slouches in the chair and kicks my leg. “I bet she doesn’t even know. Think about Sophia. She was clueless about Paul until she went to Vegas.”
“That’s why you’re here. You’re going to talk to her.”
“Me? Just ask her... and cover your dick.”
“Ask me what?”
I walk to the closet and slide into a pair of jeans, take the roll of tape from under my bed, and tear a piece to seal her mouth.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who keeps duct tape under his bed,” he mutters. “What’s the point of that anyway? I thought you wanted her to answer our questions.”
“She’s going to listen first, then we’ll have a heart-to-heart.”
I stand in front of the chair and see her mouth downturned, cheeks red, and those killer honey eyes looking sadder than a caged puppy in a pet store. Damn. Damn her! Why the fuck did I fall in love? Why can’t she be an ugly, hairy bitch with no teeth and a dead-mouse-scented twat? Why is she so alluring in looks and heart? Why does she have to be so assertive, clever, and strong? Why is she so fixed in my head?
“Please.” She shies away. “Why are you so angry with me?”
I let the tape fall to the floor before reclining on the bed, uttering a pained growl. My mirrored ceiling reflects the top of Cove and Jules’ heads, his hair tidy and stylish, hers disheveled like she’s been out in a storm. They watch me run the blade across my chest, stopping over my gut.
“I’m not a badass like Paul wanted... not when it comes to her. She’s the only reason... the only... I refuse to be cruel to the woman who’s worked her way deep into my heart, even if she has the balls to lie to my face. I love her too fucking much... damn it, what am I doing? Go fuck yourself, Paul. Fuck you and fuck your friends.” My stoner grin battles my true mood. “You didn’t hear me say that, Cove. Delete it from your memory.”
“Erased. So what are we doing and what do you want from me?”
“I want to know how you met him. What he was doing with Paul. What happened. Everything. And she needs to hear it, not a recap from me, but directly from you.”
“Met who?” Jules asks.
“Does she know? I mean, about Paul and me. I’m not saying shit if she doesn’t have the background of what I’ve been through, it won’t make any sense to her.”
“She knows,” I say in a lowly voice. “Princess, pin your ears back, listen to his story...”
RENO
“THE KID’S STILL ALIVE. What the fuck, Paul? You said you had a body, not a living, breathing, shitting, human being. I’m not doing this. Get him outta here,” Sam insists.
“The fuck you aren’t. You said you had a closed casket funeral in the morning. He’s going in the coffin with the other guy. There’s room. Now, get your tools ready. Whatever you need to embalm him.”
“Alive? Hell no. What if the owner of the funeral home comes back tonight?” He turns away, crossing his arms and lowering his head. “Please get him out of here. I’m not killing a man. I’ll handle the disposal of your bodies up this way, but I’m not killing anyone. No way.”
“There’s ten grand in that bag for you.”
“I don’t want your filthy porn money!”
“Okay, you wanna fuck him as payment? I can fulfill those terms, on condition that I get to go first then can watch you fuck him, and as long as you don’t mind your dick being coated in my cum. You may like it though—sloppy seconds can be a big turn on, especially when it’s in the ass. It’s some great lube. This one’s tight so you’ll need it. No matter how many times I work him over, he never loosens up.”
“Enough!” He turns, holding a surgical blade with a step forward and his hand trembling in the air. “You’ve persuaded me to take care of a couple of bodies a year... bodies, Paul! Fucking dead men! Look at him. The tears on his face, his mouth and hands bound, the frantic search for air whenever you cover his nose, and fuck, his entire body’s trembling. Oh, to hell! That’s puke. That’s puke coming out his nose. Uncover his mouth!”
“He’ll be dead soon so what does it matter?”
“I’m not killing him!”
Paul yanks the gag off, allowing the vomit to flow out, thrilled from the torturous episode. He smiles at Sam, grabbing the erection through his pants.
“Fuck yeah, Star. Maybe we should fuck one last time.” He holds Cove’s hips, pressing his groin tightly against him. “I know you’ll miss my dick. Bet you wish I’d take you back home for a long night of fun in my bed. Remember that. Always remember this was your choice. You said you wanted out and here you are... Sam will treat you well. You won’t even feel the blood being drained and the formaldehyde flowing inside after a few minutes have passed, but fuck, I wish I could stay to see how painful it’s gonna be in the beginning.”
“Who is this kid?” He lowers the blade, stepping back as Cove slides to the floor.
“Kid? Ahh, he’s eighteen, could be nineteen by now.” He kicks him. “I wish he was a kid. He’s getting too old for me. Hah.”
“Sick, you’re disgusting. He’s already in so much pain. And his tears, it’s, oh fuck me, just put him out of his misery.”
Paul smiles and lifts Cove onto the metal table. “Ya hear that, Star? Sam wants you dead too.”
“No. What I want is for you to get the hell out of this room and never come back.”
“I’ve heard that one before, and the guy who said it disappeared. Poof! Gone. His wife and baby too. Never heard from again. Sucks when people leave this world without a trace. Doesn’t it, you fucking pussy? I was hoping you’d stick around for some time. What are you, like twenty-five?”
“Eight. T-twenty-eight,” he stutters.
“You dumb shit. You’re too young to make such a life changing decision... I mean, end of life decision. You hear me? I need this setup. There’re no decent dumping grounds in Reno, not like the lake and my construction sites in Vegas, and I’m not hauling a body back home in the trunk of my car, or having my guys do it when it can be dealt with right here. So take the fucking cash and shut your pretty little mouth before I rip it open with my dick. This is a simple disposal. Easier than digging a hole or burning a body in this city.”
Sam swallows and lowers the knife. “Bring ‘em to me already dead and I’ll help you out, that was the deal. There was no discussion about murder.”
“We have no deal. You do whatever the fuck I want, nod your fucking head, and say, yes sir. Now, go ahead and start. He’ll die when you drain his fluids.”
“I’m holding the knife, and I say, no.”
“I’m holding the massive cock with the big bucks and the men behind me to cut off your head and shove it up your ass.” Paul steps forward, covering Cove’s face as tears pool over his jawline. “I say, yes. You toss my throwaways into these coffins and you get paid. It’s that easy.” He moves closer to Cove, brushing the hair away from his face and whispering in his ear, “I love you, son. Be a man for once and hold in your tears while you die.
”
“Fuck, is this your kid?”
“I’ll be around at sunrise... Samuel.”
“Sam.”
He leaves and Sam nearly collapses, using the stainless steel sink for support while his shaky hands cover his face. Anxious. Rattled. Fearful... his fingers separate, gazing at the traumatized man on the metal table.
“We stared at one another for a good hour. I can remember his worried expression, every pore, whisker, and bead of sweat on his face. He kept asking if I was Paul’s son, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t. I was given some drug before we arrived that made it difficult to communicate other than a few groans and cries. It took him a while to catch on that I was out of it.” Cove’s head lowers. Tight fists have formed, causing his knuckles to turn white. His voice often breaks, diminishing to a murmur before cutting back in. I’ve never heard him be so detailed about his past.
It’s the lack of self-meds... he’s able to speak freely without hiding behind the alcohol.
I watch Jules’ reaction closely, feeling her out as he exposes the truth. Her tear-stained cheeks offer a sign that she’s truly heartbroken by the information. So far, I don’t believe she knew about her dad. It seems my biggest concern might be her few white lies.
“He wrapped me in a material like cellophane. I didn’t understand if it was part of the preserving process, if I was going to be buried alive, or what the fuck was happening. It went from my feet to under my nose. My head was the only part exposed against the cold table. The smell of chemicals and cleaner pervaded my nose. I prayed I wouldn’t vomit again, knowing I’d choke... though my stomach and brain always fought each other in those moments. The panic... the terror... and it got worse. He blindfolded me and left the room. I waited. My eyes remained open under the cloth. I had to piss, but I couldn’t relax enough to let it flow. Every muscle and bone ached... fuck, for the millionth time, I couldn’t wait to die.”
I can’t sit still as I listen to his suffering. Paul’s easy to picture in that scene, saying all that crap, and to hear more information of how he destroyed a man that I love is revolting. I disconnect from my victims, showing no remorse because of their actions, but my heart breaks for Cove because of his innocence. He was a decent kid who became my father’s permanent prey, like a cat that catches and paws a mouse for hours, never killing it, just having fun until it surrenders and no longer strives to escape.
