The Bad Ones

by Stylo Fantome

  “I do,” he agreed with her, and she felt his chin come to rest on top of her head.

  “Then tell me, Mr. Masters. What is my problem? Why am I so upset? Why didn’t I want to see you tonight?” she asked. He laughed again, and it reminded her of a snake rattling its tail.

  “You’re worried because you just cut a very big tie with your old world. You’re upset because you think you might be in love with me and you don’t know what that means. You’re scared because you think I don’t love you back.”

  Dulcie held her breath for a second.

  “Ah. You do know me better than I know myself,” she whispered. He nodded against her.

  “I know. It’s very frustrating.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I keep hoping you’ll get to know me.”

  “I’m trying. I’m just …”

  “ … scared.”

  “All I’ve ever wanted was to be myself, all the time,” her voice was shaky. “And for you to love me.”

  “Just trust me. Trust us, and you’ll get everything you want,” he assured her.

  “I hope so,” she breathed.

  “You know what, I know what you need,” his voice got loud again.

  “Of course you do.”

  “Stop being a brat. I hate self-pity. Let’s go.”

  He didn’t give her a choice. Con’s arms went tight around her and he held her close as he stood up, lifting her as he went. She laughed when he started walking out the door, carrying her while she was only wearing the bed sheet and nothing else.

  Resisting him had always been impossible, so Dulcie got dressed and followed him outside. His car was parked right in front her building, so they climbed in it and he drove them off into the night.

  Of course, she knew where they were going, so she wasn’t surprised when he parked his car near the abandoned train station. Possibly even in the same spot as that important night, so long ago.

  They got out of the car, but Con didn’t head down to the railroad crossing. He climbed the fence, then straddled the top of it and waited for her. Dulcie wasn’t quite as nimble as him, she’d never been any kind of athlete, and when she got near the top, he simply grabbed her arm and pulled her the rest of the way. He was already on the ground before she’d even climbed down a couple feet on the opposite side, and he yelled at her to just jump.

  “Super idea, Con,” she grumbled through gritted teeth as she hopped around on one foot. He’d caught her for the most part, prevented her from falling, but her ankle had rolled under her weight.

  “You’re like Bambi on ice,” he made fun of her, but before she could snap back at him, he pulled her around to his back and instructed her to climb on.

  She laughed while he galloped down the track, then shrieked when he spun them in a tight circle. When she threatened to puke down his back, he reached behind him and pawed at her, making her giggle and shriek as he yanked her over his shoulder. He walked with her bent over him like that, spanking her until she thought she was going to pass out from laughing so hard.

  Even maniacs can have a little fun.

  He finally put her down when they got to their special spot. There had been a heavy rain the week before, and all the cardboard was officially gone. It was just a plain old ditch running alongside the tracks. There was no marker now, no sign to say “this is where we buried a body”. But still, they could just tell. Dulcie would always know the spot.

  “I’m sorry I’m difficult,” she sighed. Con stood behind her and blocked her body as a strong breeze ripped across them.

  “I like that you’re difficult. I like that you’re the perfect size, made to fit inside me,” he replied, and his arms came around her. He was right, she could stand in front of him and his whole body was able to wrap around her. Envelope her. Consume her. “I like that I can tell you anything, and I don’t have to worry about what you’ll think – I can tell you I killed someone, or had my fingers in someone, or I short changed a clerk, and you’ll still like me.”

  “You short changed someone!? That’s it, this is over,” she joked, struggling against his hold. He chuckled and held her tighter.

  “I like that we did something like this together, before we even knew how far we could go,” he whispered in her ear, and she shivered as she stared at the grave. “And I like knowing we’ll go even farther. But we’re not done here yet. I can’t just leave, not with my dad missing, that all needs to settle down first. And I can’t let you leave, because I don’t want to be here alone. So please, please, trust me. We’ll get through this.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “But if anyone else gives me any shit, I’m going to stab them in the eye.”

  “And I’ll help you bury the body,” he promised.

  “Such a clever boy, Constantine Masters.”

  “Such a good girl, Dulcie Travers.”

  “You know what I like?” she asked, turning in his arms so she was facing him.

  “Hmmm?” was all he said as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

  “I like that we’re out here all alone, and you can do anything you want to me,” she whispered, hooking her fingers around the top of his pants. He smiled that Cheshire grin, and his hands moved all the way to her neck. His fingers felt cold as they wrapped around her throat.

  “Anything I want,” he echoed her, applying more and more pressure. She let her eyes fall shut and remembered their first time together. When he’d choked her to the point she’d almost passed out. His fingers got tighter and she felt him lean close, felt his tongue on the side of her face, and she sighed.

  What a beautiful darkness we are.

  They barely made it back to the car. As it was, he laid her out on the hood and shoved her dress up her body, pushed her panties to the side. One of his hands went back around her neck, preventing her from crying out too loudly. Not that it mattered, they were alone in the night. Alone in their dark place.

  Or at least, she thought they were …

  24

  Dulcie reconciled herself to the fact they would most likely be spending another year in the town. Con had more than enough money to support both of them, he assured her, so at least she wouldn’t need to get another job. He even told her she could move in with him any time she wanted. They spent all their free time with each other, anyway, and everyone knew they were together. The scandal of the football hero sleeping with the girl from the wrong side of the tracks would wear off as soon as people saw they were serious about each other.

  So a week after she walked out of her job, Dulcie packed up her meager belongings and loaded them into the backseat of her car. She was on her last load, carrying a stack of books through the front door of her building, when someone rammed into her from the side. She let out a cry as she was forced against a wall.

  “Thought I forgot about you, didn’t you?” Matt was growling in her face. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him, with open sores on his face and deep bags under his eyes, and he appeared to be missing a bottom tooth.

  “God, how could I? I think I smelled you coming,” she gagged. He was absolutely filthy, but apparently didn’t appreciate hearing it. He growled and got close to her face.

  “Look here, you fucking bitch, I know what you did.”

  Matt had said a lot of things to her over the years, and she usually just ignored them. That, though, managed to catch her attention.

  “What do you mean?” she gritted her teeth. He had all his weight on her, which wasn’t very much, but he was bony and she could feel his hips digging into her.

  “I saw you. The other night? Down at the old station. You and your boyfriend. Quite a show, Dulcie. Never knew you had it in you,” his voice lowered to a grumble, and suddenly his bony hips weren’t all she could feel. She gagged again.

  “I don’t care if you watched me have sex, pervert. Get off me,” she demanded, trying to push at him.

  “But I saw more than that. I’ve seen you guys there before, on the tracks. Always sto
pping at the same spot. I was there last night. After you let that guy fuck you, I went down there to see what the big deal was.”

  Okay, shit was serious now. They’d been so stupid, just assuming they were alone. The station had long been a hangout for the derelicts of the area, she’d always known it was only a matter of time before they’d come back to claim it. Just because there hadn’t been tents outside, didn’t mean people weren’t lurking about inside.

  “It’s just some fucking train tracks,” she cursed. “There’s never anybody down there, we can do what we want.”

  “Oh, I see that now. Whatever you want. I found Larry. We all wondered what happened to him,” he said. She completely froze.

  “I don’t know who Larry is.”

  “He used to blow me for meth,” Matt explained, and again, Dulcie almost lost her lunch. “One day I went down there to drop off a delivery, make a deposit for him. He wasn’t there. I thought he’d finally moved on to the next town. Never thought to look for a grave. Shit, I even slept in that cardboard box. Right above him, never even knew it.”

  “What the fuck do I have to do with some homeless meth head’s body you found under -”

  “Shut up, Dulcie. I know that’s where you go all the time. I know that’s what you two are always looking at, you fucking sickos. Look at a grave, then hump like bunnies.”

  “Look, Matt, you don’t know what you’re doing. If Con finds out you’re saying all this, finds out you know any of this, he will kill you. Do you hear me? You need to shut the fuck up and disappear,” she said quickly, her voice dropping to a whisper as her mind started racing.

  “Oh no. I’m not going anywhere. You want me to shut up? Then you gotta give me what I want,” he growled.

  “What do you want? Money? I can -”

  Her voice froze in her throat when his hand roughly grabbed at her crotch. His fingers clawed at the denim between her thighs, trying to dig into a place he certainly wasn’t allowed to go.

  “You know what I want.”

  “Oh my god. Stop. Please, I can’t do that.”

  “Unless you give me what I want, I’m going to the cops.”

  Dulcie’s mind went from simply racing to warp speed.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “He’d kill me, too.”

  That seemed to surprise Matt, but before he could say anything, the sound of pounding footsteps interrupted them. Someone started yelling and it took a second for her brain to realize it was Jared. He was running towards them, calling out her name.

  Matt beat it, letting her go before he bolted down the street. Jared chased after him, but he ducked down an alley. Dulcie stood up against the wall for a second, trying gain control of her breathing, slow her heart beat. When Jared came back around the corner, she lurched away from her spot and hurried around to her driver’s side.

  “Dulcie!” he yelled, but she ignored him and got in the car. He didn’t even hesitate, he hopped into the passenger seat. “Dulcie, stop.”

  Her hand was shaking so bad, she couldn’t get the key in the ignition. Jared gently grabbed her forearm, forcing her to stop moving. She took a couple deep breaths, then held onto her steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she managed to squeak out.

  “Are you joking? I don’t even care about that right now – are you okay?” he asked, then started rubbing her back.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?” she wondered out loud, glancing over at him.

  “I was coming to talk to you, I wanted to see how you were. What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. She swallowed thickly.

  “That was Matt. He … has a thing for me. Likes to give me shit. He kinda took it a little far this time,” was all she said.

  “You think!? Dulcie, we need to call the cops,” Jared insisted. She shook her head.

  “No! No police. No cops.”

  “But -”

  “I said no.”

  There was a heavy silence and she started breathing fast. It was a warm day and easily had to be over ninety degrees in her car.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Jared whispered. She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. They were scattered all around her, likes leaves in the wind. She had to get control of the situation.

  You have to think of something.

  “I can’t,” she whispered back as she turned to stare at him.

  “Please.”

  She burst out crying and fell against him. His arms came around her, holding her tightly while rubbing at her arms.

  “It’s all so fucked up, Jared. I’m sorry,” she breathed into his chest.

  “What’s fucked up? Is it Con? Does he know that guy is harassing you?” Jared asked.

  “He knows about him, but not stuff like that,” she answered.

  “You need to tell him.”

  “You don’t even like him.”

  “I know,” Jared sighed. “But it’s his job to protect you, not mine.”

  Dulcie leaned away then, but kept her hands pressed to his chest. His arms stayed loosely around her.

  “Do you ever wonder? If we hadn’t broken up that night? If I hadn’t left the party?” she whispered.

  “If Con hadn’t followed you,” he added, and she nodded.

  “Yeah. What would’ve happened?” she asked. He managed to smile and brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away tears.

  “I don’t know, Dulcie. But I’m beginning to think I never would’ve been enough for you.”

  She didn’t get a chance to respond. She’d barely opened her mouth when the door behind Jared was ripped open. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and he was yanked out of the car. She gasped as Constantine threw him to the ground.

  “Get it through your fucking head, she didn’t choose you.”

  Dulcie was out of her seat and running around the car in time to see Jared get punched in the face. She tried to grab Con’s arm, but he shook free of her.

  “Stop it!” she ordered him.

  “What the fuck is going on!? I come down here to help you get your shit, and what do I find? Him falling all over you, again,” Con sneered, cocking back his arm to hit him once more.

  “He was helping me!” she shrieked, and that made him pause. “He was helping me. Matt showed up, and he grabbed me, and he touched me, and Jared scared him away. I was upset, we were just talking. He was just helping!”

  She’d reached her breaking point. Things were spinning out of control, for both of them, and not in the fun way. Losing her shit at work had been the tip of the iceberg. There was a whole ocean of crazy threatening to spill out, and Matt had just opened the spillways. Something had to give, and it looked like her sanity was up for grabs.

  She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and ran back around her car. Con yelled her name, but she ignored him. Just got behind the wheel and burned rubber as she pulled out of the spot.

  Not yet. Don’t go crazy yet. You still have to find out if he really loves you.

  *

  By the time Con got home, Dulcie had calmed down. She’d had a lot of time to think about her options. Matt knew what they’d done, and no amount of lying could convince him otherwise. He’d always been like a tickle in her throat, a cough she couldn’t quite get rid of. Now, he’d graduated to full blown tumor.

  Also, the little lovers’ paradise she’d been living in was officially over. Dulcie wondered if it even would’ve lasted the year. They were simply too dangerous together. Con had been right to stay away those three years. They had no self-control when they were together, they indulged each other. It was too much. At the rate they were going, they really would destroy each other, and she couldn’t allow that too happen. He was too beautiful for prison, too exquisite for death, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering if either of those things were to happen. So if one of them had to make a sacrifice, it would be her.

  That thought had her brushing away tears when he finally walked in
to the house.

  “Did you beat him up?” she called out.

  She watched as he looked around for a moment, trying to place where her voice had come from. She was sitting in his formal dining room, a spot in the house they’d never used. He finally located her and she watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He slowly walked towards her, taking in the scene in front of him.

  “No. We went and had a beer. What are you doing?” he asked, not moving past his end of the table.

  Constantine had a twelve seat dining room table. Rumor had it back in high school, it had caught on fire during a drunken brawl between his parents. Dulcie knew he’d been the one to set it aflame. It had long since been sanded down and refinished – the fire hadn’t caused any structural damage and it was an antique. Mrs. Masters had wanted to save it. So it sat in an empty room and was never used.

  Until that night. Dulcie had set the entire table. Every seat had an immaculate setting – dinner plates, salad plates, solid silver cutlery, wine glasses, champagne glasses, water glasses, the works. It was fit for royalty to sit at, and she’d taken a seat at the head of the table. Con slowly sank into the chair at the foot.

  “I wanted to see what it would look like if this was our home. If we were Mr. and Mrs. Masters, and this was our table,” she explained. He narrowed his eyes.

  “Apparently, Mrs. Masters would like to entertain,” he guessed. She shrugged.

  “Not really. What did you guys talk about?” she asked, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands.

  “We shot the shit, had some drinks. I had a Corona, he had a Bud.”

  “Constantine.”

  “Dulcie.”

  “You lost your shit out there,” she called him out. He gave her a tight smile.

  “He was touching you. You know how I feel about that,” he reminded her. She shook her head.

  “No, no, I was allowing him to touch me. There’s a difference, Con.”

  “Not one that I can see.”

  “You touched Frannie, correct?”

  “Yeah, but only as part of a greater scheme.”

  “Exactly.”