When the Dark Wins

by Addison Cain

  “Thanks.”

  I rub my hands together in front of the vents and like he promised, the car is almost completely warmed up.

  “No problem,” he says as he puts his hands on the steering wheel and gently begins to drum his fingers against it. “So, not to sound like a total jerk right now, but um, how much?”

  “Depends on what you want. A blowjob is twenty and so is a handjob. Sex is a hundred and anal is an extra seventy-five,” I reply nervously. I’ve never charged that much for anything before, but I don’t think he’s done this before either. Maybe I should have told him higher prices.

  Leaning back against his seat, he lets out a laugh. He’s still nervous but I’m all business now and if he wants me to ‘stay’ with him tonight, then he’s going to ante up and keep me off the streets for a few days.

  “Tell you what,” he begins as he turns to face me. “I have a better offer for you.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” I snap at him. “Either you have the money or you don’t. Also, I’ll be needing to see it before we do anything, so pick your poison and let’s do it.”

  He blinks in rapid succession, mouth hanging slightly open, as he holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t—wow. You must think that I’m a total asshole. I wasn’t going to try to talk you down, I was going to try to offer you more.”

  “How much more?” I ask suspiciously.

  “You know, for a second there, I thought you were going to bite my head off,” he says, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

  “How much?” I repeat, ignoring his boyish clumsiness.

  He sighs and leans back in his seat again, glancing out the driver’s side window. “How much do you think you’re really worth?”

  “A lot more than anyone is willing to pay,” I grumble. I find my mood starting to sour and realize that maybe I don’t need a night with a nice guy. Maybe I need to be roughed up by a bastard that’ll at least throw a twenty at me for a full-on fuck and ride away with the rest of what I was promised. It would be a hell of a lot less painful to my soul that way.

  “Okay, well, allow me to make an offer. And if this isn’t what you were thinking, then by all means, feel free to counter me.” He leans to the side and pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket. Clearing his throat, Lowell opens the wallet wide enough for me to see the endless amount of bills inside, and licking the tip of his thumb, counts out ten bills and sets them on the dashboard.

  “For every night you stay with me, I’ll pay you this same price,” he says, glancing at me.

  I furrow my brow and lean forward to look at the money. The one on top is a Ben Franklin, and as I reach forward to fan out the rest of the money, I can feel myself becoming light-headed. They all are. He’s tossed one thousand fucking dollars onto the dashboard and he’s offering it to me just to fuck him for a few nights.

  The survivalist in me is tempted to take the money and run, but the bleeding heart in me knows that he’d be disappointed. And more than likely hurt at being robbed like I’ve been so many times, I take my hand off the money and lean back in my seat.

  “One thousand dollars. For each night I spend with you?” I confirm quietly.

  “Correct,” he replies. “And let me assure you that this isn’t a joke, Burgundy. I’m sure you can tell by looking at me that I’m not used to being around beautiful women all the time—or ever really, so I’m willing to pay for the pleasure of your talents and company for as long as you can put up with me.”

  I turn my eyes toward the windshield and think of the possibilities. With one thousand dollars, I can get off the streets for at least a month. With two, I wouldn’t have to work again for even longer, unless I wanted to. And with three, I could probably get a small studio apartment somewhere with a short lease and maybe some groceries to last me for a little bit.

  “Deal.”

  The ride back to Lowell’s place is a quiet one, which I’m fine with. I think we’ve said far too much to each other already, so I don’t mind the silence. To be honest, I don’t think he does either since his mood seems more upbeat now, instead of racked with nerves and fearful of possibly saying the wrong thing.

  I clear my throat but don’t offer any words. I want to maintain the silence for as long as I can, but I also really want a fucking cigarette. I wonder if he’d be willing to stop at a gas station on the way back to his place, but unfortunately until he pays me, I can’t even afford a pot to piss in right now.

  He reaches a hand over and gives my thigh a gentle, almost reassuring squeeze, and I glance over at him. His eyes are still on the road ahead of us, but I see a small smile creep up the corners of his lips. I want him to be comfortable with me so I reach over and rest a hand on top of his and return the gesture. Lowell uses a thumb to gently rub the arch of my hand before he pulls his away, placing it back on the steering wheel.

  “That was nice. Thank you for that,” I say softly.

  He glances at me, the smile a little wider and a little shyer on his face as he places the same hand that gently caressed mine on the console between us, palm up, extending an invitation to me.

  I know I shouldn’t, but at this point it’s obvious that he’s no ordinary John, and this isn’t going to be a routine night, so I let my hand fall into his and turn my face away as he closes his firmly, but gently around it.

  I guess that’s his way of saying I’m his, and he’s not wrong. Everything has a price—people included—and when you pay for something, you own it. Since I’m still very cautious about this entire situation, I’m considering myself lucky just to be rented for a while. I’m hoping that he won’t get sick of me after tonight, because I really would love my own little place. Short-term lease apartments are a dime a dozen in Fairbanks and I can’t help but think of the possibilities if I had somewhere to call my very own.

  I should know better than to let myself think of the unattainable because that’s how I’ve been let down so many times before, but there’s something different about Lowell. Something inviting, if not mysterious, and I don’t think he’d be taking me back to his actual home unless he planned on keeping his word.

  At least I hope not.

  I let out a deep sigh and he begins to rub my hand with his thumb again. He can sense my tension, if not feel it, and he’s doing his best to help me relax. It’s funny how the tables have turned so quickly and even funnier how I can find such a small comfort in the hands of a stranger.

  I have a good feeling about Lowell, and even though his generous offer remains to be seen on follow through, I think things will be okay for a little while now.

  It takes about another hour to get to Lowell’s place and I find it kind of peculiar that he lives so far removed from town. I don’t let the thought sit as long as I should though, because he’s been nothing but nice to me so far, and I like him a little bit already.

  He’s quiet, but nice. A little mysterious, but kind. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m a hooker, and he’s the first John I’ve had in my years of doing this that treats me like an actual person. Not just pussy.

  Instinct is telling me to grab the money and run as soon as he stops the car, like any smart trick would do in my situation, but his driveway is long and winding and it’s too dark for me to see a way out. My gut is telling me that this will not end in anything other than pain, yet the need for food and a home is enough to quiet the common sense that’s trying to help me see that this little deal we have may not be all it’s cracked up to be.

  Besides, there’s nothing he can do to me that hasn’t been done before—violently or sexually. I’ll use my God-given talents on him, collect my due, and be on my way.

  Everything else that happens between us will eventually fall away like all deeds born of ill intentions. That’s just how life is, and I’m used to it by now.

  “You doing okay?” he asks as he brings the car slowly up the circular driveway.

  I glance at him and nod before I turn my attention back to the layout in fron
t of me. His house seems modest enough; a two-floor colonial style house. I can’t make out the color in this damn darkness, but I’m sure it’s a white or a pale shade of something.

  But much like the person sitting next to me, I don’t really care about the outside. Sure, it’s nice to look at and it seems welcoming enough, however I’m more curious about the secrets that are hiding inside of it.

  “Well. Here we are,” he says with a nervous laugh as he cuts the engine to the vehicle. “Let’s go inside and I’ll cook you something to eat first, okay?”

  Dinner? I couldn’t help but smile at how hard Lowell seemed to be trying to impress me. Either that or he was so nervous he didn’t know how else to act right now. God, I hope he’s not a virgin. Not that I care, but he seems too damn sweet to have a professional punch his V-card for him.

  “That sounds great!” I reply brightly.

  He lets out a sigh of relief as he slips the keys to his car into his hand and exits the vehicle. I reach between my legs and grab my clutch firmly in my hand, while he opens my door and holds it open for me. I look up into his bright brown eyes and smile, making him turn a slight shade of red.

  It actually makes me feel good that I still have enough charm left in me to make a man blush in my presence.

  Something tells me that this night will shape up to be much more than I expect, and as I feel Lowell’s hand slip into mine, I can’t wait to see where it takes us.

  “Hey, you’re not a vegetarian are you?” he calls out from the kitchen. It’s been about twenty minutes since he sat me down in his living room with a glass of red wine. Just like your lips, he had said with a smile when he handed it to me. “Cause if you are, I’m not gonna be of much use to you.”

  “Nope! I’m really into meat,” I called back.

  An amused laugh is his response, and it takes me a moment to figure out what was so funny about what I said. I roll my eyes and chuckle—the childish mind of a teenage boy trapped in the body of a man.

  “Do you want some help?” I ask.

  “Not right now, but thanks!” he replies.

  You’re welcome, I think to myself. I take another sip of wine as I glance around the room. It’s nothing spectacular—a few pictures hanging on the wall, none of which are people. I find myself smiling at the fact that he likes to hang art in the place of family and decide that I’ll ask him about it later. My eyes continue to wander before they rest on the mantle above the fireplace. There’s a massive deer skull ordaining the wall directly above the fire. Curiously, I continue to look around the room and notice the smaller skulls of other animals, which tells me that he’s an avid hunter. Then again, in these parts, there’s not much one else can do with their time, and hunting can turn a good profit depending on if you go down to the trading posts.

  Another thirty minutes of me sitting in the living room with a now empty glass of wine passes, before Lowell peeks his head in.

  “Hungry?” he asks with a wide, friendly smile on his face.

  “Famished,” I reply, getting to my feet and walking toward him. He grins and takes the empty glass from me and I follow him through the kitchen and into a small dining room just beyond. He sets the glass down at one end of the table and pulls my chair out for me. “Thank you.” As I sit he refills my glass before walking back out of the room again.

  “Alright, I hope you like it. If you don’t, you’re not required to eat anything, but I thought since we’re gonna have a long night ahead of us, you might want some fuel for your body,” he says with a chuckle as he re-enters the room and sets a large platter with two huge, glistening steaks on them in the center of the table. “Um, hold on. There’s more.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him as he leaves the room again, and as I eye the steaks my stomach lets out a loud growl. When the hell was the last time I ate, anyway? Too many days couldn’t have passed because I would have just robbed someone instead of working for the money.

  “Okay, this is it. If it’s not enough, let me know and I’ll make something else,” he says returning to the room and setting a large ceramic bowl full to the brim with mashed potatoes in them. They smell like garlic and herb and I feel like a starving animal waiting for my master to tell me I can eat.

  “Dig in,” he says as he settles into the seat at the opposite end of the table and smiles.

  I don’t hesitate. I pick up my plate and knife, reach forward and stab the steak closest to me, dropping it onto my plate. Next, I grab the ceramic ladle that’s buried somewhere in mashed potato heaven and dump two scoops next to the steak before I lean back in my chair ready to devour my meal.

  “Hey, Burgundy?” Lowell says suddenly. “Mind if we say grace first?”

  My mouth is already wide open and the piece of steak I’ve cut myself is taunting me from the edge of my fork. I can taste the fucking thing from how close it is, but I decide that I can go ahead and wait five more minutes while he does his prayer mumbo jumbo.

  I place my fork back down on the edge of the plate and fold my hands in front of me. A big smile spreads over his face as he does the same, bows his head, and closes his eyes.

  “Since you’re the guest of this house, I’d like you to say grace please,” he says quietly.

  I roll my eyes and groan internally as I try my best to remember a prayer—any prayer—from my days at private school.

  “Bless this food and the man that prepared it. May both be a rich source of nourishment,” I say, stumbling over my words.

  Lowell chuckles, and when I open my eyes, I can see the amusement dancing on his face.

  “Amen.”

  “God, I’m so full right now. That was an amazing dinner. Probably the best I’ve eaten in years. Thank you, Lowell,” I say as I pat my belly.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could do that for you,” he replies, a smirk on his handsome face. “So, let me get this cleaned up and then we can go downstairs, okay? That’s where I would like this to take place if that’s alright with you.”

  The basement?

  “Sure. Wherever you want,” I reply indifferently, with a sweet smile. For the moment, he’s my benefactor so if he wanted to hitch up a wagon and throw some hay in it, I’d still be willing to fuck him for the amount of money he promised me.

  Lowell nods and grabs the platter first, then returns for the ceramic bowl. I can hear him in the kitchen moving around for a bit as I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. I let out a content sigh as I think of how my life is finally heading in the right direction. I can’t wait to get off the streets, so maybe I’ll stay here for a week and get a good little investment going. Maybe he’ll let me stay longer—time will tell, I guess.

  “Hey,” the voice comes.

  “Huh?” I open my eyes, unaware of the fact that I had apparently managed to doze off for a few moments, but Lowell’s kind smile tells me that he didn’t mind.

  “You about ready?”

  I reach up and use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, praying that I didn’t drool on myself during my impromptu nap and nod. “Yeah. Sorry about that,” I say nervously.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I usually take a nap after I eat too,” he replies with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Come on.”

  I nod and get to my feet and follow him into the kitchen where I see a metal tray prepared with food and I raise an eyebrow curiously. Lowell grabs it and continues to walk back toward the living room. I’m not exactly sure where the entrance to downstairs is but I’m damn sure it’s not in there.

  Of course, he manages to prove me wrong once again as he walks toward the large bookcase sitting on the far left wall and opens a slender door next to it. I hadn’t noticed it because I wasn’t looking for something so secretive, and I can feel something in the pit of my stomach again making me nervous.

  A quick glance at me over his shoulder to make sure I’ve followed him this far, and he smiles, steps back, and motions for me to enter the room first. I linger for a moment in the middle of the living room,
wringing my hands, before I remember that this will be easy money. I square my shoulders.

  “Thank you,” I say to him as I walk past, and he nods in return. There’s a small landing and some wooden steps in front of me now that seem to get wider the lower they go, but I can’t see too far down because it’s dark downstairs.

  “Just hold on to the railing and you’ll be okay, Burgundy,” Lowell says quietly, as he gives me a gentle shove with one hand, then pulls the door closed behind us.

  Any chance of stopping now is out of the question because I’d have to get by him to do it — and he’s already guiding me down the stairs while balancing the tray of food in the other hand.

  Once we’re at the bottom, he grabs me by the elbow and pulls me back toward him.

  A shrill whistle escapes from his lips and he whispers, “Listen and be patient.”

  And that’s when I hear it.

  The ominous scraping sound of a chain rustling along the cold pavement echoes throughout the large room. There’s someone hiding in the darkness of this make-shift dungeon and I’m afraid. Is this the fate that’s going to befall me too? Am I fast enough to get away? Can I suddenly produce the right words and speak with a silver tongue to escape?

  “I—”

  “I’m not paying you to talk now,” Lowell interrupts calmly. “I’m paying you to fuck. But first we have to feed the animal, don’t we? Here; take this tray to him. He won’t harm you. Not if he wants to see another day.”

  My hands are shaking to the point that I’m terrified that I’m going to drop the tray before I can get a firm grip on it. Something tells me that Lowell is more Robert Hansen than James Dean and I’m fucked in more ways than he’s let on.

  “Come on, Cessi. We don’t have all night and he’s probably hungry. He hasn’t eaten in a while,” Lowell says as patiently as he can. Reaching forward, he takes one of my hands and secures it on the metal tray. Once he’s sure I’ve got a good grip on it, he repeats the process with my other hand, then turns me and gives me a gentle push into the abyss.