The Dark Scarlett

by Aven Jayce

  He lost a lot of money with that one. I remember hearing that a shitload of people were fired and wished I had been one of them, but most of it was just hearsay, and knowing Paul they were probably just given new porn names and passed along to other sites in his company.

  “Come on, fucker. What does it say? It shouldn’t take you that long to read the thing.”

  “It’s random. There are hundreds of articles like this one circling around the world.” He takes it from me and has a look. “Unless Kaitlyn was part of that site, which I highly doubt, then it means nothing. And even if she was, it still means nothing. Maybe she knew Paul from somewhere and had a crush on him, or they were friends, or he was just an acquaintance, or it’s a weird coincidence, or...”

  “Or she’s obsessed with you.”

  “What?”

  He holds the article in front of my face then turns it slowly around. “Two sides to everything, Cove.”

  The page is a grid of photographs taken at one of Paul’s many company bashes. He was known in Vegas for his pay to play parties, a set price to enter and have your choice of any porn star for thirty minutes, or pay a bit more for an hour. I was young and brought in a shitload of money for him on those nights.

  “What are you, like fucking fifteen in that shot?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Pretty sick, buddy. Sorry you went through all that. You know I would’ve...”

  “Don’t say it, everyone always says the same thing.” I scan the photos, remembering some of the people who were there, who I met, and wonder if they have any meaning to Kaitlyn, or to myself.

  “Seems unusual to have you in a magazine shot. From what I’ve heard you weren’t open to the public until you were of age.”

  “Could’ve slipped by Paul, or it was a marketing ploy to get even more people interested in me, or again, nothing. I’m fully clothed and it looks like a sophisticated party. You can’t tell that I work for the company.”

  He laughs and snatches it out of my hand. “Yeah, you were there to sell cheese and sausage to raise money for the Boy Scouts, right?”

  “Well, at least it doesn’t seem like a major issue. So what if she wants me, it’s not the end of the world. I can deal with that.”

  “Yeah, and you think she wanted you when you were this young?” he asks, flapping the paper. “That’s why she has it? She’s been pining away for your dick for over a decade? Doubt it. Try again.” He glances over the back page photos as I swivel in the chair, admiring the quiet, empty space that will be full to capacity in another eight hours.

  “I’m going to ask her about it tonight, alone. I need you here to watch over things, keep Sophia occupied.”

  “Are you shitting me? Sophia will go full-out psycho if she finds out you went out alone to meet a woman. Has she ever seen Kaitlyn Moore? She’ll go into a jealous rage. Plus, you wanted me to get out of bed at the crack of dawn, act like a tough guy around these women ‘cause you thought you needed security, but now you plan on meeting one of them alone? You’re so fucked up, you know that?”

  “It’s ten in the morning,” I laugh. “Since when is that the crack of dawn?”

  “To those of us who still need our beauty sleep, it is. You should consider getting some, by the way, you look like hell and your breath smells like your wife’s...”

  He stops. Smart move. I was about to bring up the time his woman denied him head for weeks until he stopped using roids. Enough with my sexual habits, let’s talk about his for a while.

  “Cove, buddy,” he says in a soft voice, uncommon for him. “This one, here,” he taps a photo as he passes it along.

  Bottom of the page, lower left, a photo of Paul with my father. “Yeah,” I whisper. “My dad.”

  “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. I think that’s your answer.”

  “Better not be.”

  “You think Kaitlyn knows your father?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  “Has he ever cheated before?”

  “Long ago. He said it was a mistake, that he was wasted, I thought it was just that one time.”

  “Could be another. People cheat.”

  “If that’s the case then why would Kaitlyn try to feel my dick and not my father’s? Doesn’t make sense unless she’s that much of a whore.”

  “Maybe she’ll take what she can get; my offer still stands by the way. Or, she fucked him and now she’s enticed by a younger version of him.”

  “I’m starting to realize I’m nothing like my father, not if he was with this woman.”

  “Cove, it’s all about appearances; you knuckle-head. I’m talking about the way you look. It’s the body, not the personality. You didn’t escape the womb without your father’s face and build. Dumbass. She could fuck you and it would be like fucking him years ago.”

  “You’re one bizarre shithead. We don’t even know if that’s what happened, or if it’s why she has this photo. This could still be about Paul.”

  “Doubt it. Do I have to think of everything for you?”

  “What?”

  “Call your father and ask him.”

  I laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. “I’m not going to ask him about this on the phone. I want to see his face; his expression will be telling, and I’m not going to ask with my mother around.”

  “Fuck!”

  “What the hell was that?”

  My first reaction is to duck as shards of glass hit the floor but I gain composure quickly and catch up to Haverty who’s already standing next to the broken window on the ground floor.

  “A rock,” he groans. “Bastards. Stay back.” He opens the front door and looks around while I take off my hat and hurl it furiously across the room.

  “Anything?”

  “Nothing,” he replies.

  “What the fuck! Haverty, get back in here and get a window company on the phone, let’s try to get this repaired before we open tonight. Jesus. You think it was Ivy?”

  “Could’ve been random.”

  “Another coincidence, right? Bullshit,” I steam.

  “I’ll go make some calls, but use this to your advantage. It’s a good excuse to get your father down here so you can talk to him. You also want me to call the cops so they can file a report?”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” I exhale and kick a piece of glass. “Fuck!”

  He heads to my office and I head to the bar. I can’t handle the unexpected and I hate unknowns. Downing one shot, and then a second, I feel a little better.

  “Cove,” Haverty’s voice echoes through the space. He’s peering down at me from the balcony. “Enough. If you touch anything else, one more bottle, one drop, I’ll call your wife.”

  The biggest threat of all. “Fine, just get someone down here, then help me clean this mess,” I yell, as I take out my phone and call my father. Two rings... three rings... come on.

  “Son,” my father says. “Where are you? Your mother made French toast for everyone this morning.”

  “We have a fucking broken window at the Scarlett.”

  “Everything okay? Anything stolen? And why didn’t Sophia just tell us that in the first place? We’ve been worried sick.”

  “I told her not to, I didn’t want to interrupt breakfast, and I didn’t think it was going to take this long. Looks like it was just vandalism and not a break-in.”

  “Why didn’t the alarm go off?”

  “Don’t know. You think you could head over?”

  “Be right there.”

  I tap the end button on my phone and grip the counter, trying to hold in my anger.

  “Custom Glass will be here at noon, cops are on their way,” Haverty says.

  “Good. I forgot we turned off the alarm earlier. My parents should have received a call if the glass was broken.”

  “Blame it on me. Tell them I forgot to set it when we left last night. No biggie.”

  “Go home.” My hand twitches, as I look him in the eye. “I’m pissed off and don’t want to
take it out on you, plus I want some privacy when my father gets here. I’ll clean up and talk to the police, then wait for the glass to be repaired.”

  “No way, you dumbass. I’ll wait. I’m not leaving you alone after someone just threw a rock through the window. I’ll talk to the cops since you’ve had your share of conversations with them, and then keep my distance when your father’s here.”

  I want him to leave so I can have another drink. The fucker. “Fine.”

  “Go chill in your office and stop giving me that wicked look, alright? You get this way whenever you’re craving liquor; an angry little shit to people. That should tell you something.”

  “I know. My father says the same thing. Everyone’s on my case about drinking and I’m fucking tired of it.”

  “Well so are we. Let’s install a heavy bag in your office so you can punch the hell out of it instead of reaching for a bottle every chance you get. Fuckers like you need something to control your emotions besides liquor, and that might do the trick.”

  “Fine,” I repeat and bite my lower lip.

  “I’m not Sophia, you know, the lip bite thing does nothing for me.”

  Haverty’s known to push me until I lighten up whenever he believes I’m in a mood. I laugh and shake my head at his last remark. “Ha, well how ‘bout this?” I grab my dick with one hand and lick my lips in a playful way.

  “Dear Lord, what are you doing?” My father’s voice echoes through the room as he walks in from the back door. “If the broken glass doesn’t drive customers away that sure will.”

  We laugh, and Haverty gets a broom and trashcan to clean the mess.

  “We’ll be upstairs. Let me know if the cops need to speak with me,” I request.

  “Will do.”

  My father and I head to my office. The article’s on the floor and I set it on a side table for now as he stands at the balcony, dressed identically to me.

  “Is the alarm working?”

  “Yeah, we forgot to set it last night.”

  He flashes a questioning look and joins me on the black sofa that’s placed in the corner of the room. It’s the furthest spot from the door, and blends in with the black walls. I’ve fucked Sophia here many times, once during our busiest hour of the night, and it’s private enough that no one would ever know.

  Haverty’s voice resonates into the office as the police arrive for a report.

  “Any thoughts on who did this?” my father asks.

  “Not a clue. We fired someone recently, but I doubt it was her. Hav thinks it’s just a random act.”

  “So tell me why I’m here? I know you didn’t call me down to keep you company while Haverty takes care of things. Spit it out, before your mother and Sophia show up and start poking their noses into everything.”

  “Cove, sorry to interrupt,” Haverty stands at the door with a hand full of papers. “Glass guys are here early, had a cancelled job, and I’m still talking to an officer, and you have like three glass options and I haven’t a clue which is best. I’m not an expert here on your building. Suggestions?”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  He takes off and I set the article in my father’s lap. “Look this over while I’m gone. One of my employees brought it in; she came across it in her mother’s house, Kaitlyn Moore. I’d like to know why she has it and if you know her.” I study his face for an expression that may give a clue to his coming answer, but he’s void of any emotion. “Alright then, back in a flash.”

  He’s kept things from me before, but not much, and only if he thought the information would hurt our family in some way, which is why I’m worried. If it’s bad, something to do with Paul, like she worked for him or some shit like that; then I’ll be hard-pressed to get an answer.

  I nod to the cop and meet the glass guys out front. They talk a lot of shit, have a ridiculous sales pitch if I buy some specialty glass I’ll get free window cleaning for a few months, and in the end I get frustrated with the excess of choices and tell them to replace it quickly with the same thing. I’m not waiting for a special order to arrive. Who the fuck knew there would be so many options, I mean, glass is glass. Fucking fix it already.

  And wouldn’t you know it; I walk back into my loft office and he’s gone. Took off. My father fucking left. Must have slipped out the way he came in. I give him a call but it goes to voicemail. If that’s not a sign something’s run amok... .

  I can’t believe he did that. Disappeared without talking to me. At least Sophia’s incoming ring is a welcome distraction at the moment.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Don’t you hey beautiful me. What gives? A window broke? Is that true or is it another story to cover up what you’re already hiding? And why did you send your father out? Talk to me, goddammit! You said you wouldn’t be long, and you made me look like a fool in front of your parents. If you wanted me to tell them a broken glass story then why didn’t you let me know? Your mother thinks I’m crazy!”

  I smile at her wild tantrum. I shouldn’t, but her loss of control turns me on, makes me want to hold her down and fuck her until she calms down, or until she forgets the subject at hand, plus hearing her voice is a nice diversion to my morning. I love her when she’s sweet, when she’s nasty, and also when she’s out of control. There’s never a dull moment with my wife.

  “Are you coming home soon ‘cause I want to say these things to your face. And another thing...”

  “Yeah, I’m on my way.” I hang up before she has a chance to respond. That will keep her in a rage until I’m home.

  I look over the balcony and see Haverty shaking hands with the officer while the window crew clean up the glass. One guy took off to pick up the new piece and it should be installed within the hour.

  “Hey Haverty,” I call out on my way down the stairs. “Feel like staying until they finish? I have a change of plans.”

  “Sophia?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She yelling at you?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Ha, wait ‘til tonight. If she finds out...”

  “She won’t,” I cut him off and head for the door.

  “What happened with your father?” he asks.

  “Nothing. He jumped ship.”

  “I’d say that’s something, not nothing. By the way, tell your wife she owes me money.”

  “What?” I pause at the front before stepping out. “What for?”

  “She pays me to keep you from taking drinks from the bar. I thought you’d like to know before I become a millionaire.”

  “Bullshit,” I say, but can tell by his laugh that he’s not clowning around this time. “How much?”

  “Enough to make it worth my while, and since it’s probably your money in the first place, maybe it will get you to think twice about pouring another glass. Two a day, that’s it, so you’re cut off until tomorrow.”

  “I can’t believe the two of you are working together on this.”

  “What, you mean like you and I working together to sober her up as well?”

  “Good point.”

  “Want some advice, shit finger?”

  I shake my head, but know he’s gonna say it anyway.

  “Buy your wife some chocolate on the way home, do something nice for her.”

  “What for?”

  “You’re such a dumbass. Man, you have a lot to learn.”

  “Just fucking say it, Haverty.”

  “First of all, because you love her... you do love her, right?” he asks, and tosses me my hat.

  “I’m not answering that question. Is this another thing she paid you to do or say to me?”

  “Listen,” he raises his hand to shut me up. “And second... this is important... do it because you’re about to step in shit. Try to pacify her before you head out tonight. If I have to watch over her then she better be in a good mood. I’ve found it’s always helpful to give a gift before you do something wrong, rather than after.”

  “You’re insane, Hav. I�
��d hate to be dating a fucker like yourself.”

  “You and me both,” he laughs. “Here,” he hands me a ten. “Do it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It’s shortly after noon when I pull into the underground parking garage of our building and notice my father still hasn’t returned. I took a drive past the newspaper to see if he was there, and then by the address Kaitlyn gave me, which turns out to be a house; hers no doubt. No luck. Then I did the deed and bought some fucking chocolate. I’m still debating whether to give it to my wife or leave it outside my mother’s door.

  “Damn it, I’m such a pussy,” I mumble, riding up the elevator to the top floor.

  My mother and I bought the two penthouse lofts when my father was still in prison. We wanted to watch over one another, and at the time, I wasn’t in need of any real privacy. Now, with Sophia moved in and my father home, it’s been a bit crowded. I feel odd knowing when my parents come and go and sometimes I can hear them screwing around. Sophia has mentioned a desire to move; buy a house before we have a kid. I’m almost to the point that I agree with her, as long as it has a pool, which for me is like a man cave. I’ve been sympathetic to her needs of wanting to scream when we fuck or fight without their knowledge of the event, but I want to make my parents happy as well, and they’re keen on having their son and new daughter-in-law so close. I think when a baby comes it will be even harder to tell my mother we’re going to move, even if it would be within the same city, or the same neighborhood for that matter. I can just picture the devastation on her face when that day comes.

  It’s good to hear peaceful music emanating from behind our door as I approach. She’s listening to a song we often play during our evening meal. It’s a sign that she’s not too upset. If she were, she’d put on her “sensitive” music and not something we both enjoy. I grip the box of chocolates and exhale. She’s not the romantic type and neither am I. We can be intimate, and yeah, we fucking love one another, but flowers, cards, and all that crap, no way. Chocolate falls along those lines. One time I ordered a romance basket in a hotel, thinking I might be able to give her some unfulfilled fantasy, be a storybook boyfriend, and she passed right by it, stripped, and told me to fuck her. She’s such a slut. A dream. She puts a smile on my face. Romance, no, but passion, rage, lust, and a deep ache in each of our hearts? We got it.