Nothing but Darkness

by Maria Ann Green

  To: Bee Iverson

  Subject: Honesty

  Since all of the cards are out on the table, and for some reason you still want to be with me, I have one last thing I need to do to set everything straight. I need to see Amelia to end it in person. I don’t want to, but I think it’s the only respectful way. As your boyfriend (do you like the term yet?) I wanted to let you know the plan, and offer you to be there too if you want. Just let me know.

  Also, do you want to come over tonight? I’ll cook you dinner this time, you just have to pretend it’s good.

  Yours,

  Shep

  Since I’ve planned to be as honest with Bee as I can, about everything except my extracurricular activities, she needed to be forewarned. Then it’s not as if I was trying to see Mel on the sly one last time, and if she does decide to come, she can see for herself nothing happens.

  In less than five minutes, Bee’s reply dings in my inbox.

  I have a little rush of nervousness before I open it. What if she thinks this is unacceptable? What if she’s pissed I want to see Amelia to end it and wants to end it with me?

  Calm the fuck down.

  I remind myself to be a fucking grown up, and open the damn email.

  From: Bee Iverson

  To: Aidan Sheppard

  Subject: Girlfriend.

  :) First, I love the term already.

  And again you surprise me, in a good way. I do want to be there, but not for the reason I’m sure you think I do. I trust you, and I don’t need to be there out of suspicion that anything would happen. I’d like to be there for your moral support. I know it’s not going to be a fun conversation, and I’d like to stand next to you through it since I’m your girlfriend (the question is: do you like the term yet?) now.

  And yes. When should I be over? I hope you’re as good in the kitchen as you are on the floor.

  See you tonight,

  B

  Again I feel like a teenager, giddy from a simple conversation with a girl, and again I ask myself what the hell is happening to me?

  I respond to Bee, telling her to come over after work around five. Next I pull out my phone and text Amelia, asking her to come over around six. I don’t want her to feel ambushed, though I’m even happier Bee will be there now she’s agreed. I’m already feeling uncomfortable with the thought of what I’ll need to say, and I’m glad Bee will be there to help ease my discomfort.

  I may be a selfish prick, but at least I’m a selfish prick with the support I want.

  ****

  I make a quick stop to the grocery store on my way home, hunting for ingredients to the unknown perfect dinner for Bee. She’s proved such a good cook on our two dates at her place, so nothing feels good enough. The prefect meal eludes me.

  I finally decide on steak, since I can make it pretty well on the grill. This grocery stop isn’t as quick as I’d intended with all of the meandering around, but on top of that I pick up the components for my mom’s double-fudge brownies. Bee hasn’t baked yet, and maybe I can beat her on it.

  After purchasing everything and heading outside, I can’t stop myself from waving to the continuingly annoying Eva. Still there. She makes no indication she’s seen me. She just continues to glare from behind the safety of her windshield.

  I don’t know if she can hear me from behind the glass, but regardless I can’t stop myself from saying something. I knock on the glass first.

  “You know, if you keep the same look on your face like that, it’ll freeze.”

  She isn’t looking at me, she didn’t turn, she’s looking forward as if she can’t be bothered with my presence, despite the fact she’s following me, but I see the irritation ripple across her features after I speak.

  Score one for me.

  I hop into my car after the satisfying exchange, knowing it’ll likely come back to bite me in the ass. But it felt good for now.

  As I start to make my way home, I notice Eva doesn’t immediately follow. Maybe my talking to her made the realization of what she’s been doing register. Or maybe she’s gone off somewhere, shopping on her own for something to bother me with even more. Maybe she’ll show up with a foghorn in the middle of the night.

  Or maybe she just decided it’s time for a shower.

  Either way, I’m happy for the break, no matter how short, from her ever-dampening, ominous presence. Though, I’m torn when I remember what I was grocery shopping for. Yes, I’ll be making dinner for Bee, which will be great, but it won’t be great until after I have an honest and emotional conversation with Amelia.

  Ugh.

  After I made it home, and Bee came over, we sat and planned out our evening. It was a nice change to have someone else who isn’t passive or shy helping me make decisions. With Jason, he always looks to me to make a call, but with Bee she’s as confident and as opinionated as me. And she’s willing to take both seats when either is appropriate; she can sit back and listen or speak up and make a choice.

  At one point I was watching her pouty lips move as she spoke, and when my gaze moved to her eyes the thought that she’s part of what I’ve been missing crossed my mind. Though taken aback, because I’m still not sure I ever want a lot of those things couples want, I still find myself wanting a lot more of Bee around. I found myself wondering if she’d be okay with a life together without kids and just each other. I thought about the future.

  She and my playmates are the two things lately I’ve noticed I feel better after discovering. But how different those two things are.

  “And then I slit his throat, and he died right there.”

  Wait, what? My stomach lurches. What the fuck did I miss?

  “I knew you weren’t listening,” she says.

  I almost pass out as relief flushes through me.

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “She’s going to be here any minute. Are you nervous?”

  She’s worried about my feelings. That’s sweet.

  “No, not nervous exactly. I’m just ready for it to be over and for her to be gone.” Bee nods her head in understanding, reaching over to squeeze my hand. I think she’s more anxious than I am. I want to ease her worry since she didn’t have to be here. She could’ve come over after the dust settled. “You know, I’ve never been with anyone as amazing as you are.” She neglects to answer, just smiling. “I’m serious. I’ve never had an actual girlfriend before. You’re the only one to get me to sit still.” Though it wasn’t the best explanation (feelings are too convoluted, weird, and squishy to talk about for long or in exact terms), I think she knew what I meant.

  She’s pretty much it.

  “You’re pretty awesome too, you know.” And she leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth. Her hand slides up the back of my shirt, and it nearly burns where fingers touch bare skin. My nerves tingle where she’s been.

  And then the fucking doorknob jiggles, and we break apart as if our parents have caught us in the act.

  “Fuck.” I breathe out the word on a wave of frustration and uneasy anticipation.

  “It’ll be quick and painless.” She has hope pouring off her tongue, but I have a feeling it will be unrealized hope. Maybe I’m wrong.

  I wish I could push all of the responsibility on Bee, but I got myself into this. I gave into the temptation, and it was definitely fun while it lasted. I’m just not one to anticipate the unease of ending something.

  Reluctantly I stand and walk, a little slower than I should, toward the door. She expected it to be open. Hopefully when it wasn’t, it gave her a clue as to what’s coming. Maybe she’ll prepare herself accordingly. Plus Bee’s car is parked in the driveway, which should have indicated something different.

  But then again maybe not, with how our last encounter developed.

  As I open the door, I steel myself for whatever will come. I embrace a formal tone, hoping to clue her in. “Hello, Amelia. Thank you for coming.”

  She’s wrapped tightly in a trench coat, and as she moves in toward me,
maybe for a kiss, I quickly sidestep it backwards into the house. She follows me and makes no attempt to sweep the room with her gaze. Instead she drops the trench without saying anything and before I can stop her.

  Underneath she’s wearing nothing but a cheerleader skirt; she’s topless…and this situation just got real awkward.

  “Mel, don’t,” is all I get out before Bee clears her throat. I turn my focus on her to see a smirk on her face, and the knot that was forming in my stomach unclenches. She’s amused. This may go worse for Amelia than I anticipated, but better for Bee and me.

  And in the end, that’s what I care more about.

  “Shit.” Amelia scrambles to pick up her coat, wrapping it around herself once more, while a shade of red I’ve yet to see on anyone before spreads across her cheeks. Maybe her embarrassment will contain her reaction.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” She shouts.

  Or maybe not.

  “I wanted to have this conversation in person, and Bee is here because she’s a part of my life now.” I hear a little cough of triumph from behind me on the couch but keep moving forward with my speech so it’s over as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you more notice about what was happening tonight.” I have to concede that, at least.

  “So what did you want to tell me? You’ve found a happily ever after and you’re done with me?” She has a bitchy little sneer on the edge of her lips I’d like to smack off.

  “Yes. I wanted to tell you I won’t be seeing you anymore, because Bee and I have begun an exclusive relationship.” I hear Bee stand from her seat on the couch and walk over to me. She doesn’t say anything because this is my mistake to fix, but her close proximity relaxes me a little more. She stands behind me with her hands on my back. The touch is all I need to get this over with.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Her? Over me? Seriously?” Uncalled for nastiness erupts from Amelia in the form of surprise and disbelief. She’s obviously hurt, but it’s not something I plan to allow.

  “I’m not kidding. And, yes, Bee. You’ve chosen your path in life Amelia, but just because you’re hurt or disappointed doesn’t mean you should diminish mine.” I take a steadying breath before continuing, and all amusement leaves Mel’s face. She can see I’m dead serious. “And you need to hold your tongue on any further disparaging remarks about my girlfriend, or I won’t remain so civil.” Bee reaches around my waist with this, stepping forward a bit to stand at my side instead of behind me. It’s a uniting stance, and it’s intimidating to Amelia as she takes a hesitant step back toward the door.

  After a moment to let everything sink, in Amelia lowers her voice and sounds menacing as she spouts off once more. “This is fucking ridiculous. I’m don’t need to listen to this shit.” And with that she whips around, storming out of my house, leaving the front door wide open.

  I wasn’t wrong about how it would go.

  “At least it’s over. I’m glad you were here,” I say.

  Bee walks around to face me and there’s contentment evident in her eyes. She looks happier than I’ve seen her yet, and for some reason it sets a sea of serenity bobbing inside of me as well.

  “I am, too.” She reaches up, pulling my head to hers a bit more forcefully than her sweet touches were just before Mel arrived. My dick twitches in reaction as our tongues intertwine.

  I’d gladly skip dinner.

  As if she heard my thoughts, she pulls away to state, “Time for eats, kid. I want to see what skills you brought to the table.” She looks playful as she hurries to the kitchen. She grabs a knife, pointing it at me. “And if you don’t stack up…” But she ruins her threat with laughing.

  “I have better skills in a different room.” Feeling playful too, I wink at her, before turning her to press into her from behind.

  “First we eat. Then we play.” She turns and smiles sweetly. I can’t resist her charms and walk outside to start the grill.

  But I can’t help myself as I throw over my shoulder to her, “Did I mention I like you a lot?”

  After taking the evening to regroup, Amelia texted both me and Bee, apologizing for her rude behavior, for her nasty words. She explained her hormones had led to her outburst, and she was sincerely sorry. Adding she hopes we’re happy and assuring us everything would be kept from Jason.

  Good.

  She ended the note with an invitation for both of us to have dinner with her and Jason sometime in the near future. That would be so awkward.

  It’ll never happen, especially since she told me the last time we slept together she plans to leave him soon. I guess it was her way of being polite, of making amends, but time needs to pass, and the dust needs to settle.

  I watch Bee, snuggled on my couch in my sweatpants, watching TV, and can’t look away. She looks happy, beautiful, watching a horribly gory scary movie and loving it. I jump over the back of the couch, landing right next to her.

  “What should we do today? We have all day to do whatever you want.” I wrap my arms around her neck and squeeze her playfully. She struggles to fend me off, but unfortunately for her I’m not ticklish. And the wonderful sound of her laughing proves she isn’t worried I’ll strangle her. The thought briefly floats from one side of my brain to the other that I have the strength to do it, though, if I wanted.

  Strangle…What a great idea.

  That’ll be my plan for number four.

  I move on from the thought so as not to stew in the possible excitement, since I have no idea when I’ll be able to shake Eva long enough to have a number four, and I stand up to start whatever plans our day will hold.

  ****

  After a lot of activity out and about today, I’m finally back home. Bee chose to head to her house instead of staying over again. Though I wouldn’t have minded her here, I know she’s more independent than most girls I’ve known, and she wanted some quiet time in her own space. That’s a quality to respect, so I didn’t say a word in debate.

  With Bee gone, and my solidarity for the evening intact, I have some time to ponder a few things. The first question that comes to mind is: when will I be able to have another playmate? I can feel my nerves alight with the idea. But I also notice an underlying anxiety I hadn’t realized was there before. I guess I’ve been too busy with Bee, Eva, and Amelia to truly feel how much I want another kill. Even right now I can feel the burning desire start to worm its way into my system. My mouth waters, and there’s true discomfort deep inside me somewhere, between my groin and my gut.

  These playdates are exhilarating. I feel a rush of emotion, sensation overload, and pure euphoria. Though up until now, it has been more of a want I’ve been fulfilling, not necessarily a need.

  But it’s shifted, and I need it now.

  And I need it again soon.

  It’s an idea to begin looking for a hitchhiker tonight. I don’t know how good or bad of an idea, but it is a possible idea. If I don’t find one, then that’s fine, but I think the search needs to start. Soon. I’ll come up with some plan to evade Eva, the festering thorn in my side, if and when I find the lucky candidate to play with. Looking out the window, I see that sure enough her car is still parked across the street. Stupid bitch.

  I walk back to the couch and flip on the TV for some mindless white noise company. My plan is to eat dinner and then head out for a searching expedition in the comfort of my car.

  Thinking about the exciting prospect of finding someone as I slap a sandwich together, my heart stops as I hear breaking news cut into the fluff piece which was spouting nonsense only seconds ago. I run to the remote to crank up the volume. Then I rub my eyes to assure myself I’m actually seeing what I hope I’m not.

  “Kate Masten’s body has been found after spending weeks in the ice-cold water.”

  My breath hitches and I see spots in front of my eyes. My peripheral vision is starting to go black, and I grab onto the back of the couch for support then sink to the floor. I can’t see the screen anymore, but I can still hea
r the horrifying words from the anchor’s ruby red mouth.

  “Authorities are divulging very little information right now, though it seems clear her death was not accidental or natural. The case is being treated as a homicide.”

  I unconsciously start to bang my head against the solid frame of the couch behind me as I face the kitchen from the cold floor. At the same time, I stamp my feet on the hardwood. I need to feel here, present, connected to something solid, or I may float away on a cloud of paralyzing fear and stabbing uncertainty.

  I was careful.

  I can’t get caught.

  Fucking fucker. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.

  Every version of the word drops from my brain in a continuous string as the news report I can’t turn off continues behind my back.

  I try to control my breathing as I remember I anticipated her body would eventually be found. I didn’t weight her down. I knew this day could come. I just wasn’t ready yet. I try to remind myself no matter how much I freak out there’s no true connection to us besides DNA, and I destroyed all of that evidence.

  I think I need to melt down right now. Yes, that sounds like an acceptable reaction.

  I shoot upright to my feet as my hands twist into my hair, and I have to resist the urge to pull it out in fistfuls. This isn’t how I wanted to end such a pleasant day. I had plans for an amazing night.

  My feet take control, pacing from the living room to the kitchen, back again, and continuing over and over without any intention of stopping. I’d be wearing a pattern if there were carpet under me. With all of the frustrations that’ve been building up in my life lately, this just seems to be the pinnacle, tipping the scales from rational into batshit fucking crazy irrational.

  I stop my pacing midstride, whipping around to my front door. I don’t put on shoes. I don’t add a jacket. I move at lightning speed without stopping to think. My muscles take over, leaving my brain back in the living room to sulk. As the soles of my feet slap against the ice-cold pavement, I idly note I don’t yet feel the sting of cold. I will later.