Deeper into Darkness

by Maria Ann Green

  But that I won’t be sharing today.

  “Ah, I see.” Harwell’s looking down, and I wish I could lean over to see what’s in his stupid notebook.

  The bell chimes again, making me jump and almost knock over my coffee. Harwell looks up, his eyebrow cocked, then he looks to the door. A few teenagers walk in, loud in their own world, and I wish I could trade places, wish I could be as carefree, wish I could run out the closing door. But then the latch clicks back into place, and the chance is gone.

  My skin prickles, and I want to scratch the itch this man is giving me. I hate him. Forcing myself to sit still instead, I wait for him to go on. It’s painful, the silence is awful, but this time I won’t be the one to budge. I can’t.

  Stay calm.

  Stay cool.

  Don’t think about killing Eva. Don’t think about killing Eva. Don’t—

  “How would you characterize Eva’s relationship with your boyfriend?”

  This prick.

  Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders once. I’m in no hurry anymore. Absolutely positive Harwell is trying to get under my skin, I take a long, slow sip of my coffee. I actually close my eyes and savor the flavors.

  Because screw him and his tactics.

  “Do you mean before she lost her mind and stalked my fiancé?” I ask, ever so coolly.

  And now I am rocking this. If I don’t focus on the fear, if I only focus on those dark eyes and how much I want to beat them at their own game, I can control this situation. Maybe I can even improve upon it.

  Harwell opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t leave him the chance.

  “I think she was going off the rails for a while. Ask her supervisors,” I add.

  “I have.”

  “Ahh, well then you know she was stressed at work. You know she was fired. You know a lot more than I do, probably. So I’m not really sure why you’ve asked to talk to me, detective. I’m not sure how much I can help. I’d love to, but I didn’t know her. I have no idea where she may have run off to.”

  “That’s what you think?” And Harwell’s eyes flicker just the tiniest bit. His lip twitches, like he wants to say more, but nothing else comes from his thin, pale lips.

  “I think she got embarrassed. She was acting like a child. She reacted poorly to losing her job, and she left to escape the shame.”

  Or, you know, she would have if I hadn’t killed her first.

  “That’s a nice theory.” Harwell closes his notebook and replaces it in the pocket it came out of. His pen goes next, and after both are stored away I feel both better and worse.

  This is the closest I’ve come to anything like suspicion, since…. This is the closest I’ve come to anything that should scare me in a long time.

  The aroma in the coffee shop is suddenly overwhelming. The teenagers sitting across the room seem way too loud. The car horns outside, past the glass and the air conditioning, honk too aggressively. Everything comes to a crescendo, and it’s too much.

  “Honestly, I hope that’s what happened,” I say.

  Just a thought, just a little idea forms, but maybe it could help. Either way, it can’t hurt.

  “What do you mean?” Harwell removes his heavy palms from the table, which had clearly been there to hoist him up to standing. Maybe I should have let him leave, but it’s too late now.

  “Nothing really. I just hope nothing happened to her, and that she really left embarrassed. She did threaten her bosses when she flipped out; Aidan told me all about the horrible blowouts. I guess they were really nasty.” Harwell nods, and a curl of his floppy hair drops onto his forehead, making him look a lot younger than his graying scruff otherwise indicates. “I just…” I draw it out, taking a big breath and spinning my cup in my hands before continuing. My nerves help instead of hurt now, emphasizing my point. “I just hope she’s happier wherever she ran off to.”

  Harwell nods again, his mouth a harder line than I’ve seen yet.

  “Thank you for all your help, Miss Iverson.” Harwell sighs, which catches me off guard. His whole body relaxes, and he sounds less sure, less intense. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was talking to someone else entirely. “Honestly, we don’t have many leads.” You mean, other than the ones I just pointed you to? “I’m just trying to gather all of the information I can from those who saw her in her last few days before disappearing. Trying to come up with something new. Thank you for your time,” he says.

  And then he’s shaking my hand, his warm and strong, engulfing and dwarfing mine, before he heads briskly to the door. Mirroring his to-the-point attitude to start, he leaves without saying goodbye, leaving me feeling as if I’m stuck on the last step before getting onto an escalator, like I’m hanging in midair waiting for what’s next.

  “Be careful.”

  The two words sink to the floor and slither over to me. I don’t really register them until after the detective is gone. They were for me, from his gravel-strewn voice, I’m sure. But that’s all I am sure of. Not of who, or of what, he hopes me to be wary of. It could be my safety, or my confidence he’s referencing.

  I don’t know.

  And I shiver, uncontrolled, unexpectedly, and violent. It sweeps through my body, not stopping until I finish the hot drink between my hands. Even then something lingers; more of a feeling than a movement or thought—something echoing, reverberating off my bones, too quiet to hear or understand by the time it reaches my brain.

  Be careful.

  Then

  “Wait,” I said.

  Parker’s eyes lit up as he squeezed my hand tighter, pulling me deeper into the dark shadow waiting in front of us. I’d seen that look on his face so many times now over the last few months, but every time it sent waves crashing into each other inside of me.

  “I want you now.” He grinned.

  I faltered, feeling stupid.

  “We can’t.” My stomach knotted up as I shivered from a draft, a bad omen. This wasn’t right.

  “Why not?”

  It was a bad idea. I knew it was, but when he started kissing me, I didn’t stop him. I let him push my buttons, and before long I was struggling to keep the sounds swallowed down. He knew how to persuade me, how to touch me, how to play me like an instrument. Then it was me pushing for more.

  So, why not? Why not make it fun?

  I smiled against Parker’s shoulder before biting a little too hard. When he sucked in a breath, sharp and whistling past his teeth, I pushed up harder against him. If he wanted to do this, then let it be done right.

  “Well,” I said. “What are you waiting for? Take me.”

  “Shhhhh,” he said, his lips brushing mine before tumbling over my collarbone, my neck, my soul.

  But he did take me, right there in the alley as songs blared from cars and drunk people yelled to each other, and the minutes ticked by and we risked getting caught every moment. It was thrilling; it was addictive.

  I swallowed my moans with my eyes pressed closed so tight, I thought I might fly away.

  “Maybe we should…” Parker started pulling away as he spoke, but I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. I couldn’t stop now; I needed more.

  He should have known already, I always needed more.

  “Hey,” someone shouted from the mouth of the alley as they faced our way. “I think someone’s down there.” A snorting laugh followed, then a can hitting the ground. More voices added to the mix, and a car honked.

  A tingle washed over me as we both froze. I could feel Parker’s heart racing against the hand I had braced on his chest. Panic filled his eyes, blocking me from his view. He saw nothing but trouble, getting caught or something worse.

  So I was the first one to move, the first one to think, and I pulled us down behind the stacked cardboard, totally out of sight. Parker followed, but once down he was immobile again, waiting for the next instruction.

  The frat boy who’d yelled had a friend pulling him away in the next second, telling him he
was wasted and seeing things, and finally Parker took a shaky breath of relief.

  “Let’s go. We can finish later.”

  Unexpected anger bubbled, spraying in all directions, as my eyes narrowed.

  “No.” It was all I said, but the two letters sounded solid, immovable. It was too late; my adrenaline had spiked and I was hooked. I couldn’t stop now, and I wanted him more, I wanted him closer. Even angry, I still wanted him.

  I didn’t say any more, but I showed him what I still needed, and how badly I craved a release.

  ***

  “I’ll love you forever, Parker baby.” I whispered into his ear, our fingers intertwined as we walked toward his car from the alley. I was spent, but thrilled and distinctly content.

  His smile in response was lazy, half a loop, part of a question mark. He was warm, and pink, and I fit into him like it was where I was made to be. I felt perfect, like I’d found what I’d been missing, and like nothing else mattered.

  “To the moon and back,” he said, like he always had, and like he always would. Forever.

  But then he broke the spell. “Well, I gotta go,” he said. And just like that, something cracked inside.

  “I thought we were going back to your place.” I knew there was a whine in my voice, but I didn’t know how to extricate it; somehow it was woven in.

  “Sorry, babe. I totally forgot I’m supposed to be at Felix’s in a few minutes. Remember that show he needed my help with? That’s tonight.”

  No, I didn’t remember.

  “Okay…”

  I tried not to feel embarrassed, begged my heart to stop feeling defeated, but something nagged at me. It didn’t feel right, though I refused to show it. My lips pulled upward and I faked a smile as Parker avoided my eyes and reached for his cigarettes.

  “Text me later?” I asked.

  He nodded before leaning down to kiss my cheek.

  My cheek.

  I stood rooted to the spot, my teeth digging into the tip of my tongue so I wouldn’t say anything I’d regret later. I told myself I was overreacting, that I was crazy from the excitement earlier. But it didn’t help.

  His engine started as I stood on the sidewalk, and just before he drove away his window came down.

  “You know, babe, you’re going to be bad for my health.” Then he winked, and after that he was gone.

  “You know it,” I said to his taillights.

  ***

  I shouldn’t have followed him. I knew that.

  But it just sort of happened.

  He didn’t text me, and a heavy feeling started filling me up. I had to check, I had to know, or suspicion would swallow me whole. I didn’t want to be that way, but something took over, and there I was.

  Felix wasn’t home.

  Lie one.

  No one was there as I drove by, and if Parker had been telling the truth he’d have still been there. The lights were off and everything was coated in silence.

  So I called the Broken Heart, the only place he played, on my way to the next destination. There was no band playing for the girls tonight; Bobby told me Felix was scheduled for next week.

  Lie two.

  So I knew I was right. I tried to breath through the anger, to hold my judgment until I really knew, but it was hard.

  Something told me I should turn around, that I was heading toward a destination I couldn’t come back from, as I started to see red. I kept going, though. I kept going as the night darkened.

  All I could think about was what I’d find, what I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.

  Now

  Harwell’s face swims in my vision—with distinct and terrifying changes including pointy teeth and red eyes—and I can see his mouth moving, but the sound doesn’t reach my ears. Then I realize what he’s saying. “Eva. Eva. Eva. Eva.” He mouths it over and over until his lips start to bleed from the effort. He’s going to pin me to her, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “There.” Aidan says, pulling me back into the present to focus on him instead of my terrifying daydream, and I appreciate it more than he can know. I didn’t mean to start dwelling on her again, but like an addict I’d slipped.

  Thank god for Aidan.

  His smile is smug, a little crooked, and contagious. And he adds a tally mark under his name on our bet count, which he couldn’t be happier about.

  “Nicely done,” I say, sauntering over to meet him near the closet.

  Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lean in to kiss him, but I don’t close my eyes. Instead I leave a hand, just tipping my fingers into the waistband of his pants, to distract him and use the other to pull the marker from his grasp. I swallow quickly, trying to stuff down an errant emotion as his eyes are closed, and there’s a smile back on my face when they pop open in surprise.

  “No.” Aidan says it even before his eyes move to the scoreboard and he leans back.

  “Yep.”

  I move forward and put the same mark near my name. Still tied.

  “No,” he echoes, this time a little duller.

  “Sorry, no winner yet.”

  “I thought for sure, when you disappeared yesterday…I would have sworn…” he loses steam before finishing his thought. Then Aidan’s jaw drops, and it’s like a cartoon it hangs so low. I don’t change my expression, keeping it deadpan, but it’s hard. So hard.

  Too hard, evidently, because I start laughing in seconds. Soon I’m laughing too hard to talk. I walk backwards to the bed and collapse onto it, tears falling down my face. It’s stupid, because it wasn’t that funny, but once I’m on a roll I can’t stop.

  “Bee,” Aidan’s face is so shocked still I laugh harder as I try to straighten up, try to stop. “It’s not that funny.” And finally I do stop, then I sober up, feeling a little ridiculous afterward.

  “You’re right. You’re right. I know you’re right,” I say.

  “Besides,” he closes his mouth and lets pride fill his face, “I shouldn’t be surprised. I should be thrilled. This is good,” he says.

  I nod in response. It is good, but my sarcastic voice inside wants to say, “Blah, blah, blah.” I keep quiet, though, because he is right.

  “We’re being careful,” Aidan says as he grabs me around my waist, pulling me to stand with him. He leans in to kiss me, but I turn at the last second and pretend that I’d prefer he nuzzle my neck.

  That word, it brought back the feeling I tried swallowing before. After meeting Harwell, it all became a bit more real. The risk that was always there feels more oppressive now. Eva’s presence hasn’t left me since I heard those two chilling words in the coffee shop.

  Be careful.

  I wish I knew more about leads and evidence, and suspicion. I wish I could let all thoughts go of her. I wish…I wish she would leave us the hell alone, considering she’s already dead.

  “You okay?” Aidan asks. I hadn’t realized he’d leaned back to look at me.

  I breathe, then shake the dread from my eyes, blinking a few times, and smile up at him, hiding what I need to.

  “Of course,” I say. “And, by the way, I was writing yesterday. I only went to the library.”

  This time it’s Aidan’s turn to laugh, and he does loudly. In a moment it’s spread and we’re both holding our stomachs, doubled over. My fears are almost forgotten as I look to Aidan’s face, then to the scoreboard with our combined tally marks.

  Be careful.

  “What were you working on at the library?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. When I don’t answer, my eyes avoiding his, he tries again. “What are you writing right now? I haven’t heard lately.”

  Still I don’t answer. Instead I move us, slowly, until the backs of Aidan’s knees hit the bed. Then I push him down onto it before straddling his lap. His eyes not meeting mine, I answer quickly, but softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Obviously,” Aidan’s eyes snap up to mine, a fire lit behind the golden brown pools there, “that’s why I asked.”<
br />
  I lift my chin and take a slow, deep breath, not letting his irritation get to me. I’ve never been the meek, subservient woman to his ego, and that’s not going to start. He can handle me, even now. I know it. With steel in my own, I hold eye contact, forcing a warm smile.

  He softens, just a little, like I knew he would.

  “Well, if I told you,” I say, leaning forward, my lips almost against his, our breath mingling and heat starting to pound a cadence between us, and his eyes twinkling—though I’m not sure if it’s lust, admiration, anger, jealousy…or what—mischievously, “then I’d have to kill you.”

  I make a slashing gesture, drawing my finger across the length of his throat before jumping up from his lap.

  “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” And he eyes me, bracing his arms on the bed, watching my eyes instead of my feet like he should be. He thinks I don’t notice, he always thinks he’s so smooth, but I can see his readiness to pounce. I pretend not to see, and I stay rooted to my spot, just a few feet past the reach of his strong arms.

  “Come and get me,” I tease.

  “Wouldn’t you like me to?”

  His smile is big, genuine now, and I can feel my own stiffness melting away, too. I’m thrilled, and a little lucky if I’m honest, to be able to persuade him so easily.

  “I,” I start.

  “You what?”

  “I.”

  “Don’t say it.” He starts laughing as he finishes the threat, jumping from the bed to bound after me.

  I cackle, tipping my head back and sending the sound into the air above us, loud and triumphant as I evade his grasp around one corner and then another.

  We end up on either side of his couch, each trying and failing to gain an advantage.