The Midnight Club

by Love, Michelle

  Bitch.

  He climbed slowly back down the stairs. She would scream for him too, with pain, with disbelief, with agony as he drove his knife into her again and again. The thought of her blood pumping out, soaking his hands made his groin tighten, his breath catch in his throat. Yes. Yes. He fantasized how Isabel’s lifeless body would feel in his arms; how he would kiss her lips as they grew cold with the finality of it all, her skin, her beautiful golden skin, turning the palest blue of death. Sam’s face and his grief when he found her body.

  The man smiled. Enjoy fucking her, kissing her, tasting her. She’ll be dead soon enough. He looked up at the faint glow of the window and thought about him – he – would teach them about terror, about fear, about loss. Teach them that however deep, how complete their love, fairy tales always, always ended.

  Zoe squinted at Isa as the younger woman hefted her canvases around the room. Isa was – again – rearranging her work as a means of distracting herself. Soon, a television crew from KOMO would be here to interview her. Isa’s nervous energy was making Zoe’s head spin, and eventually she grabbed her shoulders and forcibly shoved her into a chair.

  ‘Cool your boots, kid.’ Zoe raised a hand, stopping Isa’s objections. She pulled up a chair and took Isa’s hands in hers. ‘You need to slow down. It’s just another interview.’

  ‘With a great big camera shoved in my face.’ Isa rubbed her eyes and suddenly Zoe saw how tired she was, how drained.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  Isa nodded, smiling softly. ‘I really am, Zo. It’s just that my life has changed so much in the last couple of months; my brain needs to catch up with it.’ She looked out of the window. Early afternoon, sunny. ‘Maybe once I get this interview out of the way, I’ll head into the city, chill out at a bookstore.’

  ‘Sam’s not around?’

  Isa shook her head. ‘He’s in Tacoma for a meeting he couldn’t get out of. He’s coming back tonight.’

  Zoe smothered a grin. ‘Another sex marathon?’

  Isa laughed, shocked. ‘Zoe!’

  Zoe grinned, enjoying freaking her out. ‘Hey, don’t apologize. You get yours, kiddo.’

  ‘That sounds so wrong coming from you,’ but Isa was chuckling now. Zoe patted her hand.

  ‘Seriously, though, Isabel. I am so happy for you. Sam’s a wonderful man.’

  Isa, grinning, nodded. ‘Yes, he is.’ Her smile was infectious, and a little smug and Zoe rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

  ‘You’d better take that filthy grin off your face before the television people get here. And yes, go into the city, relax. You can take my car.’

  Sam sat across from his ex-wife, trying not to let his anger and his utter dislike show. He had to keep his temper, had to. The small coffeehouse in Tacoma wasn’t busy and if Casey were to start antagonizing him… He shook his head.

  ‘What the hell do you think you were doing coming to the gallery like that? What do you want?’

  Casey had obviously dressed up to meet him; her clothes were designer, and her hair and make-up perfect. Sam found himself longing for Isa’s scruffy jeans, the paint stains on her sneakers, her loose waves of hair that would stick her face when she came. Casey looked like a little china doll, all porcelain beauty, brittle and cold. She smirked now.

  ‘I just wanted to see the woman you’re fucking now. She’s pretty. Different from me.’ Her tone was dismissive, and Sam looked at her sharply.

  ‘She’s beautiful, and my sex life is none of your business anymore.’

  Casey leaned forward, triumphant. ‘So you are screwing her. Figures.’

  Sam drained the last of his coffee. ‘Casey, I asked you for this meeting for one purpose only. To remind you of the terms of our divorce settlement.’

  Casey changed tack then. ‘What if I don’t want your money? What if I want to give us another chance?’

  He laughed mirthlessly. ‘You’re delusional. I pay you a very, very generous alimony and all you have to do is stay away from me and away from my family. Are you telling me you want to risk losing your only means of income? How is the career, by the way?’

  It was cruel, and he regretted it as soon as he saw Casey’s face tighten. Her chin lifted defiantly.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Not what I heard.’ Goddammit. What was it about Casey that made his inner asshole come out?

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ She hissed, small flecks of saliva spraying from her gritted teeth.

  ‘Possibly the alcohol, the drugs.’ Ah, screw it, she deserved every bit of his vitriol.

  Sam sighed. ‘Whatever. Stay away from me, stay away from Isa. And stop sending me text messages.’

  Casey scowled. ‘What text messages?’

  Sam gave a tired laugh. ‘Stop it. You know very well. The text messages. One for every day for the past week. She’s beautiful. She’s sweet. Do you love her? So on and so on. What are you trying to do, freak me out? It won’t work.’

  ‘It wasn’t me.’

  Sam snorted. ‘Whatever you say but it ends now.’

  Casey hesitated then spoke so softly he could barely hear. ‘Do you?’

  ‘What?’

  Another long silence. ‘Do you love her?’

  Sam took a deep breath in. ‘Very much. Goodbye, Casey. Remember what I said.’ He stood up to go, satisfied he’d got his message across. Casey was spiteful, petty, but she wasn’t stupid. The divorce settlement paid for her entire life – hell, it would pay for five people’s lives. She wouldn’t risk that.

  Sam threw some dollar bills onto the table. Before he could reach the door, she called out to him.

  ‘Sam?’

  He turned, sighing. What now? Casey had a nasty smirk on her face.

  ‘She doesn’t know about me, does she?’

  Sam slammed the door on the way out.

  The interview had been less stressful than she’d imagined and spending the rest of the afternoon immersed in books had been blissful. Now, though, it was dark and Isa was hungry, tired and wanted to see Sam. She checked her watch. Five to six. She had tried calling him a little while ago, but it had gone to voicemail.

  Her bag heavy with books, she walked quickly back to the parking garage. Rush hour and the city streets were jammed with traffic. She risked jaywalking across a couple of streets to get to her destination quicker – giving the finger to some jocks who cat-called her, much to their amusement.

  Finally, she pressed the button for her floor and leaned against the cool metal elevator wall and tried to call Sam again. Voicemail again. She shrugged, grinning to herself. The meeting must have run long. Poor Sam. She’d make it up to him tonight. The elevator stopped, and she stepped out into the gloom of the parking garage.

  She didn’t have time to scream before a hand was clamped over her mouth and she was falling…

  Sam realized his phone was dead just as the ferryboat slid into the island’s harbor. When he got to the gallery, it was in darkness. Zoe caught him as he was climbing the stairs to Isa’s apartment.

  ‘She’s in the city. Seb has a late class. Come in; I’ll make you some dinner.’

  Her attacker hurled Isa to the hard floor and was immediately on top of her. Stunned, she kicked and bucked, biting at the hand covering her mouth. He grabbed her head and bounced it off the concrete. She cried out and immediately the hand was back covering her mouth, her nose. Her head spun, pounding with pain, nausea rising up inside her.

  Her eyes whirled around, panicked, she sought out anything, anything, that would help her, but he pressed down hard on her, grabbing each hand and kneeling on them. She couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. His face, obscured by a dark scarf, something, was in shadow.

  Her heart almost stopped when she saw the knife. She saw it for the briefest moment – then it disappeared, and she felt the cold steel press against her abdomen. Her mind blank with terror, she closed her eyes.

  He’s going to kill me… he’s going to kill me and I’ll never see Sam
again… oh god…

  The weight of his body was a crushing force, making it hard to breathe. Isa felt the tip of the knife run lightly across her skin and wondered, almost dispassionately, what was taking so long. The thought jolted her back into the present, and she opened her eyes. Her attacker gave a short laugh, and she started to struggle again, yanking her hands-free from his knees and trying to jam her fingers into his eyes. He cuffed her hard across the face. Her head swam and her eyes watered. He slammed his fist hard into her stomach, forcing the breath from her lungs. She doubled up, curling into a fetal position.

  Then, just as suddenly, he was gone. Isa, still breathless, couldn’t believe it. After a few seconds, she sat up, looked around her, peering into the gloom of the parking lot. She sat there, terrified, confused, waiting for him to reappear, come back to kill her. But there was nothing but the faint sounds of the traffic in the street far below. She clambered to her feet, the pain in her stomach still raw and limped to the car. Inside, she banged down the locks and sat for a while, too shocked to do anything but pant for breath and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

  Sam’s phone bleeped as it reached full charge and he switched it on. Two voicemails from Isa – to hear her voice after a day away was bliss. He quickly scanned through the rest of his messages, only half taking them in. He was about to call Isa when an email notification popped up. He opened it.

  Isa. Rather, photos of Isa – walking in the city, getting coffee, reading in a bookstore, catching an elevator in a parking lot. Sam didn’t understand – it was clear Isa had no idea she was – oh God, no - being followed. He swallowed the nausea that rose in his throat. The sender, who’d used an obviously made up name and email address, had written one sentence.

  She is beautiful.

  Sam felt the crushing weight of fear bearing down on him. Someone was following her. Yes, there was no explicit threat but… he didn’t want to scare Zoe, so he made the excuse of looking for better signal out in the yard. The phone rang twice before it was picked up. Sam frowned.

  ‘Seb? Where are you…?’

  ‘Isa’s been attacked.’ Seb’s voice was shaking, stunned. The breath was knocked from Sam’s lungs.

  ‘Jesus. Jesus. Is she okay?’ Please. Please.

  ‘She’s okay. She has some cuts and bruises, but she won’t go to the ER. We’re on our way home now. She’s pretty shaken up.’

  Sam’s heart was thumping. ‘God. Can I talk to her?’

  He heard Seb pass the phone.

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry….’

  ‘Sam….’ His heart broke as she burst into tears, ‘Sam…. he had a knife…’

  His blood ran cold.

  Isa pulled the sweater tighter around herself. She couldn’t get warm despite the heat of Zoe’s kitchen. She felt strangely disconnected from the world. When they’d gotten home, Sam was apoplectic with worry and anger; Zoe was in tears and Seb was trying to comfort her. Seeing the dried blood, cuts, scratches and bruising left by her attack, Sam had insisted on calling the local cops.

  After hours of questions, of fuss, she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. She wanted to forget this whole day. She listened to them all talk about her, at her, for a few more minutes then got up, went to the door. She offered them a wan smile.

  ‘I’m going to bed.’

  Sam followed her in silence, but when they got into her bedroom, as she was about to climb onto the bed, he handed her his phone, open to the email he got earlier. She flicked the images silently, a ribbon of apprehension wriggling in her stomach. She looked up at Sam confused. He shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know who it’s from. There’s no message – no explicit threat but I’m concerned, Isa. Why are they taking photos of you, following you?’

  Isa suddenly felt cold in her core. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve pissed anyone else off except maybe that weird woman at the gallery the other day. Are you sure you don’t know her?’

  Sam didn’t look her in the eye. ‘I’m sure.’ A lump of sadness settled in her stomach. He’s lying. Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away from him, curling into a ball on the bed. She didn’t think he was cheating on her but how could she be sure? They’d barely discussed their lives before they met, wanting to live in the here and now. Maybe that had been a mistake.

  She felt the bed shift as he lay down beside her and, as he slid his arms around her, she couldn’t help sinking into then, turning to face him as he pulled her closer. He stroked her hair away from her face, placed his cool fingertips against the bruise forming on her cheekbone.

  ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,’ he whispered.

  ‘You can’t be there all the time. It’s okay, really. These things happen all the time. Do you know how many women are attacked, verbally, physically, every second? I would like just to forget it.’

  Sam frowned. ‘You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, not when you take the photos into consideration. I’ll get some protection arranged, someone to watch over you when I can’t.’

  ‘Whoa,’ Isa placed a hand on his, her eyes alarmed. Why was he acting like this? ‘I don’t think we need to go that far. Whoever attacked me… he could have raped me, killed me. But he didn’t, he just wanted to scare me. If he is the one following me, maybe it’s just some asshole who gets off on scaring women. Well, you know what? Fuck him, Sam; he doesn’t get to win. I’m not changing my life for him. No bodyguards.’

  Sam said nothing and she saw the concern, the worry in his eyes and there was something else too, something she’d never seen, never expected to see – real fear. She sighed, unease settling inside of her. Hired protection? For the first time, she felt the gulf between their two worlds; to Sam, throw enough money at a problem, it would go away.

  She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted then felt his lips press gently against hers. Her body relaxed and she sunk into the kiss, needing that release.

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said softly, but she hushed him with her kiss, pushing him onto his back. Sam’s eyes were still worried as she pulled his shirt open.

  ‘Really? Are you sure you’re up to it?’

  For the first time in what seemed hours, Isa smiled, unzipping his pants, reaching in to free his cock. She ran her fingertips gently up and down the long shaft, feel it shiver and stiffen.

  ‘You appear to be,’ she joked and was rewarded with his smile.

  Soon they were naked, kissing, touching and feeling. Sam winced when he saw the burgeoning bruise on her stomach but seeing this, she bent her head and took his cock into her mouth, trying to make him forget. She ran her tongue along the pulsing vein to the tip, flicking around it, sucking on him as he grew harder, harder. She grazed his cock gently with her teeth and felt him jerk, groan with pleasure, a pearl of liquid forming at the tip. She knew he was close by the way his entire body stiffened; usually, he would pull out now and plunged himself into her, beautiful cunt but tonight, she wouldn’t let him, and he came in her mouth, gasping as his semen pumped onto her tongue.

  ‘God… God... Isa…’

  She loved hearing him say her name, loved for once being the one in control. His penis was quivering as he pulled her up the bed and clamped his mouth onto her nipple. He was hard again when he pushed into her, gathering her to him in his huge arms as they moved together.

  Everything, everyone else in the world disappeared for them, and Isa lost herself in the pleasure of being fucked by him, this man she loved with all her heart. Her vagina pulsed and ached from the size of him, his confident, virulent thrusts. She loved the way he would look her in the eye, look deep into her soul as they screwed – made love; she amended in her head. No, fuck it – screwed. She loved the carnal woman he had awakened in her - the sexy, confident, potty-mouthed woman. One who liked to fuck and be fucked, one who wasn’t afraid to tell this wonderful, astonishing man that she loved him. One who wasn’t afraid to trust.
>
  Breathless now, she gave into the shuddering orgasm that made her entire body vibrate, her limbs weaken and her head swim deliriously. She opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her.

  ‘I want to spend my life with you,’ he said, kissing her gently and the love in his voice made her heart swell.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ she whispered, ‘but for tonight, let’s just make the world go away…’

  Isa considered out loud the two possibilities. She could get ready for her debut show the very next day, checking the final placement of her work or she could throw up, scream, and go sob in the corner like a little pussy. She offered these two options to a sniggering Sam as they sat at her tiny breakfast counter.

  ‘Now I’m not saying those are my only two choices but, y’know.’ She chomped down on a piece of toast, wrinkling her nose. It had gone cold.

  Sam shook his head. ‘Actually I have a third option.’

  Isa grinned wickedly. ‘We did that already.’

  Sam sighed dramatically. ‘Will you get your mind out of the gutter, woman?’

  But he was delighted that she seemed more like her old self. A week since the attack and there had been no more texts, no more emails, no more threats to her safety. He thought he was probably more relieved than she was. She’d persuaded him not to hire protection and he’d not broken his promise – as such. Just beefed up his existing security – he reasoned that didn’t count.

  Looking at her now, her face glowing, excitement in her eyes despite her protestation of nerves, she had never looked more beautiful to him, more alive.

  ‘What’s your third boring non-sex option then?’

  He blinked. ‘Oh yeah. You know how tomorrow the critics are going to arrive a little earlier?’