The Dark Scarlett

by Aven Jayce

  He rubs his forehead and finally speaks. “Cove,” he sighs. “You fucking punk-ass-squirrel. I know you’re into some fucked up shit with these people, and since day one when you hired me for the Scarlett; I had a sense that your family was in the mob. I’ve protected you, kept your family’s secrets to myself, been around whenever you needed me, but...”

  “He’s quitting,” Sophia jumps in and places her hand on my leg. “No, don’t quit. I’m sorry I offended you and if you think I’m a bitch, but I really do like you, Hav. We need you around, not just as an employee, but as a friend.”

  “As family,” I say. “You’re more than just a friend. You really gonna quit?”

  “I thought my ass was about to get fired.” He takes a final sip of coffee and sets the mug on the table with a smile. “As I was saying, what goes on in your life and at your business is in safe hands, although, I should hope you’d come to me if you’ve gotten yourself into some serious trouble. No, I’m not leaving, but I’d like to know if you figured out a way to make David’s death look like a suicide.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I lean forward with my hands clasped. “You think I killed him?”

  He takes the gun from the Scarlett out of an ankle holster and places the two guns side-by-side on the table. “I went back inside the bar last night after you left. You freaked me out and I thought you were in a state of deep depression, but now I believe you wanted to get rid of these things for another reason. This one,” he taps the gun from the Scarlett. “This one had the safety off, and I remember we loaded a full mag before we closed the safe. That was when you first bought it, and I don’t think you’ve opened the safe since. It was ready to go in case we ever had an emergency, so, my friend, who’d you use it on? Or, where and when did you use it? There’s a bullet missing. I know you didn’t shoot David because the gun used was at the scene with him. It wasn’t this one, but I have a feeling something went on between the two of you. You’ve been a wreck since it happened, uneasy, asking a lot of questions like you want to know how much the cops have figured out. You were sweating balls last night in your office with the detective around,” he shakes his head. “Nervous about something? Because if we’re friends, if you think of me as family and you made a mistake, it’s time to fess up. I want to help.”

  “Whoa, when the fuck did you fire our gun?” Sophia changes position on the sofa so her entire body’s facing mine. “Cove? Answer me.”

  I exhale. Trapped. Looking for a way out. “You think my family’s in the mob?”

  “Cove,” they both say.

  “Answer the question,” she demands. “When did you use it, and why?”

  I stare at the hardwood floor, running my bare feet in a circle as a distraction.

  “Did you have something to do with David’s death?” she whispers. “Oh God, forget I just asked that. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. You’d never do such a thing; I know it, just tell us what did happen. Please.”

  “Wait here,” I request. “Give me two minutes, alright?” I head for the stairs in need of a few things from the bedroom. I’ll tell them, but then I want some time alone. Yeah, I’m gonna run away from all of this, literally. “Two minutes,” I call down as I enter our master suite.

  After checking my phone for messages, washing my face, brushing my teeth, and taking a piss, I change into a comfortable shirt, a pair of shorts, and lace up my running shoes... my two minutes are up.

  I jog down the stairs and stand before them, completely unsure how to approach this. Do I just blurt out what happened, and take off like a pussy, or should I apologize? Fuck, why should I be sorry that I suffer from depression?

  “Going somewhere, Babe?” Sophia frowns.

  “For a jog, but when I get back I want to take you out for the day. Shower and get ready, okay? I’m not spending our time together indoors talking about this shit.”

  She nods and folds her arms, still waiting for my answer to Haverty’s question. Fuck, what can I say?

  “Grow a pair and hang ‘em, buddy. It’s time. I’ll grab you by the back of the neck and snap you like a twig if you try to take off before coming clean. What’s the situation? Someone either threatened you, or pissed you off, or...”

  “Or you were right earlier. I was suicidal.” There, I said it.

  “Oh, Cove,” Sophia responds softly and places her hand over her mouth while Haverty closes his eyes and exhales.

  “I was nervous around the detective because I had just fired the gun inside the Scarlett. I didn’t want to get arrested.”

  “You should be saying, I didn’t want to die,” he says as my wife has a look of utter devastation on her face.

  “I’m sorry.” Damn it, don’t apologize for this. Stay strong.

  “What did you fire it at?” he questions in a calm voice, almost acting as if he’s disappointed in me.

  I’m suddenly uncomfortable by his demeaning tone; it makes me feel weak that I would even consider it. I could’ve lied to them, but I’m on a new path in life, being more open with Sophia so we can start to have a strong and healthy marriage; or as healthy as humanly possible.

  “I shot it into the air, above the bar area. The bullet hit a chandelier, but I have no idea where it went after that. Now, I’m going for a jog to clear my head.” I turn and walk to the door. “This isn’t something we need to have a long discussion about.”

  “Babe, don’t leave if you’re still feeling that way. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Yeah,” Haverty agrees. “I thought that was the case last night, and my offer still stands if you think you need to get some immediate help. Don’t hide out. We’re here for you.”

  “I know,” I whisper with my hand on the door handle. “I’m fine. It had to happen. The only way to start a climb up was to hit rock bottom. Everything will be better from here on out, I promise. Haverty, take the guns. I’ll no longer be making any stupid mistakes, and I can protect my family and my business without the use of firearms.”

  “Cove?” There’s doubt in my wife’s voice as I shut the door and stand in the hallway. I listen for a moment to their conversation. Hav tells her I’ll be okay, and that I’m just embarrassed. He’s right... he’s exactly right.

  ***

  The cold temperatures that rolled through with last night’s storm have departed and the humidity’s back. The city’s typically muggy when we first wake up, and now that it’s late morning, it’s downright sweltering. I take off my shirt as my feet stride along the concrete Gateway Arch trail. There’re an enormous number of people on the path this morning; on bikes, walking around, and jogging like myself. Tourist season for the Arch is at its peak this time of the year, and it’s one of the biggest attractions in the city. Visitors come down and hang out in the park and admire the Mississippi, which looks muddy and menacing after last night’s heavy rain. It’s a wide river that’s remarkable on calm nights when the city lights reflect off the water in a blossoming dance. Shit, did I just use the word blossoming? I’m either cheerful from the morning head, or a wuss.

  I thought it’d be nice to bring Soph here, but a jog in silence will relax me. At this point, if I had taken her along, she’d spend the entire time talking about the guns. Thirty minutes alone, that’s all I ask. And good endorphin stimulation can’t hurt. I’d like to be pleasant around her today, give her a break from my melancholic personality.

  The steep climb on the grand staircase to the Arch is my favorite section of the trail. My legs and thighs ache, but I keep pushing, out of breath, sweaty, fuck it feels good. A lot of people take advantage of this workout, and even on such a busy day, you never have to worry about someone getting in your way with the stairs being well over five hundred feet in width.

  I bend over and rest my hands on my knees when I reach the top. Fuck yeah, that was good, and I’m not the only one who’s stopped at the top gasping for air. The jog will be easier once the weather cools in the fall and we
’re no longer encased in this thick, humid atmosphere. I wipe my face on my shirt, toss it over my shoulder, and begin the descent back to the trail.

  Partway down I hear a whistle, a sound that grabs my attention immediately. It’s used as a command, like hey, look over here, and not in a playful way. I hear it again and turn to see a man sitting on the opposite end of the stairs; his legs crossed, one bouncing in the air, and his elbows set on the step behind him.

  The figure lounging on the concrete steps reminds me of the statue of Oscar Wilde in Dublin’s Merrion Square. Only as I approach and the face becomes clearer, I see it’s a different Wilde, Marcus Wild. Great, maybe I can give him the check today and he’ll be on his way. What was the fucking point of last night anyway? A scare tactic like he mentioned? Getting under my skin by talking about my wife? The fucker.

  He stares at me, waiting, still rocking his foot in the air with a dumbass grin on his face.

  “Have a seat,” he says with a pat on the concrete step.

  I join in his reclining position, burning my ass on a surface that feels like a pizza pan that was just pulled out of the oven. I adjust my shorts and admire the fact that he can wear jeans and a sport jacket without displaying a bead of perspiration.

  “You look good.” His hand grips my leg at the bottom of my shorts and slides slightly underneath. I jerk away and he laughs. “Ahh, I’m just teasing. We’re both married, and I don’t think you’d ever cheat on that wifey of yours, now would you?”

  “When do you want the check, Marcus?”

  “How is she today, anyway?”

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  “Didn’t. I was just sightseeing. Heard it was nice down here, one of those places you shouldn’t miss if you’re in the city. I’ve been meaning to come here for years, to St. Louis, just never got the chance. It’s relaxing compared to the rush of Vegas. You know?” he digs in his ear again, a habit I don’t remember him having in the past. “I guess we just got lucky, running into one another. Nothing I planned, but glad it happened,” he turns and smiles. “It’s always nice to see you, Cove.”

  He’s composed and his voice is oddly soothing, almost as if he could snap at any moment, knife me in the gut, lick the blood off the blade, and walk away without any change in facial expression. That same type of psychopathic behavior that Paul displayed, and David at times. Calm and cool as they did harm. Still, I told Hav and Soph I wasn’t worried about him and he’s not going to be the one in control here today.

  “How did you know David was dead?”

  He laughs and redirects the conversation back to my wife. “Does little Sophie Jameson have plans for that fat check? Is she showing any signs of greed and upset that I’m going to take it away from her?”

  “She’s not like that.”

  “No? David said just the opposite. Thought it was all she cared about.”

  “Greed’s a sign of weakness, and my wife’s not weak.”

  “Wrong. Greed’s a sign that something in one’s life is lacking, or unavailable. I heard she didn’t have much growing up, was a poor kid living in a dilapidated house with a nutcase of a mother. I wouldn’t be surprised if that check makes her feel powerful and finally in control of her life. You’ve been taking care of her right?”

  “You don’t know her, she doesn’t care about the money.”

  He looks out at the Mississippi and I observe the image of the river drifting across his eyes. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he asks.

  “Should I be?”

  He rests his hand back on my leg and glides his finger in the shape of a heart over my skin, testing his power. I pay no heed to his actions, but can’t ignore the words that come out of his mouth.

  “Should you be afraid? If I were you, I’d be troubled by my presence. I think you’re uneasy around me, perhaps bothered or worried, but maybe that’s because you’ve had your hand on my dick. And I probably feel the same way about you. Did you get my email by the way?”

  I nod and watch his finger touching my flesh, unsure if I want to leave and get back to Sophia, or stay and listen to his bullshit.

  “Did you know when we first met I had a crush on you? Imagine that, and I’m not even gay. Hell,” he shrugs. “I’m not bisexual either. There was just something about you that turned me on, and I couldn’t believe you were a virgin back then. A nineteen-year-old porn star that never fucked a woman? What kind of crazy shit is that?” he shakes his head. “Damn that got to me. I had my first pussy when I was twelve. I can’t believe Paul made you do everything his insane mind wanted, except fuck. When I heard about that I was even more attracted to you. I was also jealous of your relationship with Paul,” he turns away from the river and looks into my eyes. “Isn’t that funny? I envied how close the two of you were, even though you were raped and beaten by the man. He was such a bastard, wasn’t he? How’s your foot doing by the way?”

  “Fine,” I mutter. He’s referring to Paul’s final attack on my body last year. He sliced the bottom of my foot open with a switchblade, and had one of his lackeys stitch it up. Hurt like a motherfucker, but like everything else, it eventually healed. “It’s eerie how much you know about me.”

  “Aha!” he exclaims with an excited grin. “I do make you uneasy.”

  I recognize personality breaks more often now that I’m living with a person with an atypical mind, and talking to him feels like talking to every other person in the porn business; he’s not only fucking with me, but he’s also fucked up, trying to act tough as shit, and then pretending to joke around.

  “David told me many things about you when I took Paul’s position in Vegas, but I have to admit, I was the one asking the questions.”

  “Marcus, when do you want the check, who should we make it out to, and when are you leaving this city?” I cross my arms in defense. “And again, how’d you know David was dead?”

  The rodent before me has a smile the size of a football field on his face. “Sometimes, you just never know what happens to people. They can disappear, never to be heard from again, or occasionally they show up dead, like David.” With a laugh he stands and puts a pair of lavish sunglasses over his light blue eyes then places a hand on my shoulder. “We may never know what happened to him either. That’s why that book I quoted last night has been a favorite of mine since I was a kid. My father gave it to me before he vanished off the face of this earth. It became my bible as a teenager. You need to eat, fuck, and conquer, like the little wascally wabbits. No time to waste, my friend. And you’re right... what you said about the bigwig rabbit, the book ends in a battle, and the old worn out furry beast probably died in the mouth of that dog.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I think I did.”

  “So you’re the dog?”

  He takes a step closer so we’re toe-to-toe, shaking his head and staring into my eyes. “No, you need to read between the lines. Last night you asked me what my style was, and I mentioned the ease of knowing your wife’s every move. But there are other things about me you may want to be aware of. Like, how I can kill a dumbfuck and make it look like a suicide. Oh shit. Right? Well, there you have it. I’m not going to make you wait forever to find out what happened, no need to keep guessing ‘til the end, or even after the end. We may have a lifetime together, and I’ll sleep better knowing I’m in your head rather than that parasite of a man, David. But, what can you do? Tell the cops? That seems laughable. No proof my friend. I’ll make sure you come across as a liar, trying to take the spotlight off your family and the fact that he was found behind your business. Damn, that’s some fucked up shit. But, there’s a reason for everything, right?”

  In a sudden about-face he moves down the stairs, yet pauses and turns back when he gets a few yards away. “Afraid of me now?” he asks. “You suicidal lately? If you ended up dead, would it be a big surprise to anyone?” After taking another step he stops and points his finger toward my face. “I’m just fucking with yo
u. I love you too damn much to ever kill you.”

  And down the trail he hops, disappearing behind a thicket of trees like a rabbit in Watership Down.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  My wife has a way of getting into my head the instant I see her, leaving all thoughts of Marcus far behind. Stunning is the first word that comes to mind when I walk into our loft after my jog. She’s showered, dressed, and is ready to leave the house for the day.

  Her long dark hair is draped over her shoulders, left to air dry, and her favorite jean shorts, the ones that are cut so high the pockets hang out the bottom... yeah, those, are snug against her body. Uh, they kill me. I lick my lips a hundred times while getting ready, thinking about her legs. Modest is a word that will never be used to describe her, and if my dick was game to go again, I’d nudge it past the small amount of fabric and into her pussy. I can’t hide what I’m thinking either. Well, I guess the handful of times I try to slip my finger inside of her sheds some light as to what’s on my mind. She dismisses the playfulness to talk about Marcus, who she calls ‘that guy,’ and keeps asking about the gun incident. I’d do anything to avoid this discussion.

  The rest of the afternoon is ours, and I’m not going to spoil it by bringing up the disturbance at the Arch, talking about ‘the guy,’ or my unpleasant evening at the Scarlett. We’ll discuss these things eventually, just not right now. My silence drives her mad, and she pursues me like a hawk, asking about the gun and commenting on my depression. She’s concerned. I assure her that I’m better now, thanks to her open heart the night before and the expression of regret traded between my father and me. She understands how painful some of my memories are, but doesn’t grasp how I could’ve sunk so low as to contemplate taking my own life. I don’t either. I look at her, and her stomach, and realize my actions last night were outrageously selfish.

  After learning about our plans for the day, she skips through the loft like an excited five-year-old, and by the time we’re walking out the door, she has a list of ten homes to drive past and more listings saved on her phone.