by A. I. Nasser
John shook his head in confusion, still unable to voice anything comprehensible.
“I know, Johnny-boy,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” he stammered, his heart racing, his breathing coming out in gasps.
“Eva Green,” she hissed. “I know about you and Eva Green, you son of a bitch.”
Chapter 16
When John Krik walked into Hank’s shop, he was a different man.
For starters, Hank had no idea when John had last looked at himself in the mirror. The man’s hair was completely disheveled, a comb absolutely useless if used to tame the chaos. His eyes had dark patches below them, almost completely black, as if he had just been in a bar fight and had taken one too many beatings. There were scars on his right cheek, something that looked like a cat had tried to claw his eyes out, and the inflammation around the scratches looked horrible.
There was something else that worried Hank more, and he couldn’t put his finger on it until John was standing three feet away from him. That was when he realized the actual problem. John was staring at Hank with eyes that were utterly emotionless, like he was staring into space, looking right through Hank instead of at him. The look disturbed him, to the point where he wanted to turn away from those lifeless beads and busy himself with anything at all.
“Jesus, John, ya look like hell,” Hank said, his voice a whisper, still taken aback by the shell of a man who stood in front of him.
“I’m not sleeping very well,” John admitted.
Hank nodded and put away the small radio he had been working on. “Ya don’t say?”
“Karen and I have been having problems,” John stammered, “and that stench in the house isn’t helping.”
Hank nodded slowly, half listening to what John was saying. “Back, is it?”
“For a week now,” John replied, running a hand through the mess on top of his head as he scratched aimlessly at his scalp. “I wanted to see if you still had that contact of yours. The exterminator?”
“Sure, buddy,” Hank said turning around, keeping an eye on John as he rummaged through a few shelf drawers and pulled a card out. He set the exterminator’s business card on the counter, opting not to actually touch John, as if what he had was contagious.
“Ya sure you’re okay?” Hank asked, genuinely worried about the man. Over the past three weeks, he had really grown fond of the couple at the Dean house, and seeing John this way upset him.
John shrugged and nodded, apparently unsure how to answer that.
“How ‘bout we put off the exterminator a bit,” Hank suggested, “and get ourselves a coupla drinks at Denny’s?”
John scratched his head again and squinted. “I’m not sure, Hank. I don’t want to leave Karen alone right now. She’s in a really bad place.”
“The wife’ll be fine,” Hank said, grabbing his keys and crossing around the counter, gently nudging John along. “This’ll be good for ya.”
John didn’t argue and let Hank lead the way.
***
Karen sat idly on the bench on her front porch, cigarette in hand, legs crossed as she looked out at nothing in particular. For the past few days, this had been her usual routine, completely ignoring John throughout the day until they both went to sleep and she had made sure he was in his own room with his door locked.
He had frowned in confusion the first time he saw her smoking, indoors for that matter, but hadn’t said anything. Actually, he hadn’t said much since that night in the attic when she lashed out at him, breaking several nails as she clawed at his face and slapped him in relentless fury.
Karen thought it strange that only two hours after her outburst she had become completely numb, John’s presence nothing more than a reminder that another living being occupied the same space she did. By the third day he had become a mere haze, a presence that differed only from the rest of the furniture in the house in that he moved and talked.
She had moved out of their room the very night she had found out about his sexcapades, her eyes fully relaying her desire that he stay as far away from her as possible if he valued his life. Since then, he had complied, quiet, almost lifeless, giving her the space she needed to process what she had found out. Every now and then she would hear him tapping at his keyboard, and a part of her always wanted to storm into his room and slam the laptop against his head.
That desire only lasted a day, though. Now he was practically dead to her.
At least he’s stepping up his game, cupcake.
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, already hating the voice in the back of her head. She hardly remembered anything that had happened that night, only that she had seen things so clearly. Every kiss, every position, every scream of pleasure, their bodies entangled together in her bed. How could she be so blind?
Well, now you know.
This was one of the many things Karen wished she hadn’t known.
John had changed dramatically since then, cooking, cleaning, making sure everything in the house was up to the standards she usually kept. She wondered how long that would last, how long the guilt would keep him trying. Then she realized that she didn’t care.
At least now he’s not trying to get rid of you.
“No, he isn’t,” Karen thought out loud, but deep down she wondered if she actually wanted to stay. She couldn’t stand being around him anymore, being in the same house he had cheated on her in. She had wanted to take the bed out to the backyard and burn it, sometimes imagining him tied to it while the flames lit up and he screamed into the night.
You have to let this go, cupcake, and move on. At least you’re staying, right?
“I said, don’t call me that.”
She heard a door open and close, and she numbly looked to her right as Papa Green walked towards his car. He saw her and waved, but this time Karen didn’t wave back.
Do you think he knows?
Who cares? She obviously didn’t. David Green waved again, probably assuming she hadn’t seen him, and when he didn’t get a reply, got into his car, pulled out of his driveway, and drove off in the opposite direction. She watched the car disappear, inhaling her cigarette smoke as she felt it burn her lungs.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows or not, you’re right. Let’s go back inside and try to find something better to do.
Karen shook her head slowly as she felt the tears collect in her eyes, her head starting to throb lightly as her emotions washed over her. She hated Cafeville. She hated the Greens and the Deans and the whole lot of them. She hated this house, and she hated Derrick Fern for sending John out here in the first place.
That’s a little overdramatic, cupcake.
She didn’t reply. She suddenly felt a weight on her chest, suffocating her, and she quickly realized that she was beginning to panic. She needed to get out of here. She needed to pack her things, get into her car and drive home. No stops, no breaks, all the way to their house. She wouldn’t even pick up Dylan for a few days. She needed some time alone with her thoughts, somewhere familiar.
Not here. Definitely not here.
You can’t go now.
“Why the hell not?”
Think about it, cupcake. You just found out about John’s little side project. You’ve been avoiding him since, and I don’t blame you. But, how do you think he feels?
“I really don’t care how he feels,” she whispered back. “He wanted me gone anyway. Might as well.”
I get it, I really do, but when you’re gone, whose arms do you think he’s going to go running to? Who do you think he’s going to bitch and scream about you to?
Karen took a long drag from her cigarette and stared at the Greens’ house.
And let me tell you something, cupcake. She’s going to welcome him with open arms.
Karen felt the cigarette’s flame at her fingertips as she let it burn down to the filter before throwing it onto the wet grass. She instantly grabbed for another one, lighting it up as the flames danced in her eyes
. She stared at the twin Victorian down the road, looking from one window to the other, wondering which one looked out from Eva Green’s room.
Do you really want to go and leave him here with her?
Karen felt her brow furrow as her tears quickly dried up, her self-pity quickly displaced with anger.
I’ll tell you what, go. If you really can’t stand being here anymore, then go. But don’t be surprised if he decides to stay here and leave you a hundred miles away.
“I might get some closure,” Karen said, knowing fully how unconvincing she sounded. “Free myself from all this and run away.”
Stop being a drama queen. You know you can’t do that.
“Then what do you suggest?”
The voices went silent, and Karen wasn’t surprised. At the end of the day, they were her own thoughts, and they were equally ignorant as to what she was supposed to do now.
Do you want to be free?
Karen nodded.
You need to get rid of the girl. Then you can do whatever you want.
Karen took a long drag from her cigarette as a small smile appeared on her otherwise emotionless face.
Chapter 17
“And ever since then, I’ve been ridin’ the lightinin’ alone.”
John felt his head growing heavy as he listened to Hank talk about his life in Cafeville. On any other day, his story would have probably been interesting, a nice touch to an otherwise dreary conversation. On any other day, John would have been taking mental notes of various details, hoping to find some way to weave Hank’s story into one of his own, even create a protagonist out of him for his next book.
But today wasn’t one of those days.
John took several gulps from his beer before slamming it back down on the bar. He felt like he was going to fall off his stool, and when Hank’s hand rested on his shoulder to steady him, he realized that four beers were more than enough for one evening. Besides, he didn’t want to go home drunk. He didn’t want Karen seeing him like this.
“I think you’re done for tonight, buddy,” Hank chuckled.
John nodded, his head spinning, his eyelids heavy as he rested his head against the palm of his hand. “I need to get home, Hank,” he said, his voice slurred.
“Well, you’re in absolutely no shape t’drive,” Hank said, searching John’s pockets and relieving him of his keys. “How ‘bout I take you home? I could drive your car back to your place tomorrow and bring the exterminator along.”
John smiled, resting a friendly hand on Hank’s shoulder as he tried his best to stand straight. “That would be excellent.”
Hank wrapped an arm around his shoulders and nodded at Denny, mouthing the word ‘tab’ to him as the two of them trudged out of the bar and into the cold night air.
***
Eva Green was less than happy when she opened her front door and saw Karen standing in front of her.
Eva had recently been reprimanded by her advisor over the large number of homework assignments she had missed, the man berating her in a long email full of words like ‘immature’ and ‘lazy’, ending with a conclusion about how long distance learning was about more than sitting at home and pretending to be a college student.
Needless to say, her recent infatuation with John Krik had taken her mind off of what mattered, and she was suffering the consequences. She had a lot of catching up to do, and despite her father’s help, Eva was still a long way from making up for her lack of promptness. Seeing Karen at her front door was the last thing she needed now.
Karen Krik was smiling at her, carrying what Eva could only assume from the smell coming out from under the lid, was a homemade cooking experiment gone wrong.
“Can I help you?” she asked, less than friendly, the door only half open as she looked at the brunette with her ridiculous smile. What the hell did John see in her?
“Hi, my name’s Karen, from next door,” the woman said, a little too cheerfully. “I wanted to come over and say hi, although I admit it’s a couple of weeks late.”
Eva looked at her suspiciously, eyeing the tray in her hands, wondering how to respond to the gesture.
“I know,” Karen said. “It’s not usual for the new folks to greet their neighbors, but I was getting a little too fidgety. I’m used to knowing my neighbors.”
Eva forced a smile, hoping that it would be enough to send the woman back home. “I’m sorry, but my father isn’t here. Maybe you can come back later?”
“That’s a shame,” Karen said, pouting and handing Eva the tray. “Well, this is from us. I really wanted to get to meet you and your father, seeing as my husband’s already made your acquaintance.”
Eva frowned. “Your husband?”
Karen nodded, her smile unfaltering. “John, from next door,” she said. “He’s my husband. I thought you already knew that.”
Eva felt a chill run down her spine as her hands gripped the tray tighter. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve never actually met your husband. But thank you for this.” She stepped back into the house, shutting the door behind her.
Karen reached out quickly and stopped her. Eva pulled her arm away and stared at the woman angrily, challenging her, ready to give her a piece of her mind despite the other woman’s smile.
“I’m sorry,” Karen said. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, you have been sleeping with him, after all.”
Eva froze in her place, her eyes locked onto the brunette’s, her body shivering as the woman’s smile faded and was replaced with a nasty scowl. Karen didn’t look very friendly anymore.
“What do you want?” Eva asked, not even bothering to deny the allegation, thinking that if Karen was confident enough to boldly confront her like this, then John must have told her everything.
Karen’s voice suddenly changed. “I want to see that pretty little face burn.”
Eva dropped the tray onto the floor, quickly reaching out to slam the door shut, but Karen had anticipated the move. She pushed her shoulder against the door, forcing it to swing completely open as it slammed against the wall, her hands immediately reaching out for Eva and only missing by a few inches. Eva turned to run, Karen slipping on the tray of food and falling hard on her knees, desperately grabbing for the blonde’s ankle as she fell.
Eva screamed, racing to the stairs and running up, not daring to look back, fearing that if she did, the other woman would be on her within seconds. She took the stairs as fast as she could, tripping in despair and pushing forward on all fours until she was on the second-floor landing. She could hear Karen behind her, footsteps heavy as she chased her.
Eva rushed into her bedroom, slammed the door behind her and locked it, instantly moving away. She screamed when Karen hurled herself against the door, rattling it on its hinges, desperately fighting with the knob as she tried to force herself inside. More slamming followed as Karen, frustrated, realized that there was no way in without breaking down the door.
Eva looked around her, panicking, trying to find anything she could use as a weapon, her tears falling in torrents down her face as the slamming continued. She raced around her bed, trying desperately to find her cell phone and crying out in despair when she remembered she had left it in the kitchen.
Glancing at her laptop, she quickly raced to it and clicked on the Skype icon, praying that any one of her contacts was online. She could reach them, have them call the police. She waited for the program to open, and when it didn’t, realized that her Wi-Fi was disconnected. She was running out of ideas, and the slamming at her door was not letting up.
The window.
She raced to it, sliding the glass upwards as she looked down at the two-story drop. She could do it. She had to do it. There was nowhere else to go.
Eva slid one leg out through the open window, bracing herself against the sill, hoping her years of gymnastics training would finally come in handy. By the time she had her other leg out and was desperately balanci
ng her weight on her stomach and arms, the attack on her door stopped.
Eva froze, wondering where Karen had gone. Had she heard the window? She doubted it. There was no way Karen could have heard her moving in the midst of the commotion. Eva struggled with whether or not to actually risk the drop, and when she finally realized that her choices were to stay locked in the house with a crazy woman or take the chance and get out alive, she let herself go.
On any other day, the drop wouldn’t have been all that bad. On any other day, she would have remembered to drop and roll, relieving any pressure on her legs and only sustaining a few scratches and bruises. This wasn’t any other day, though, and her mind was clouded with fear. She landed on her feet, the pain instantly soaring up her legs and to her back, her ankle spraining as she fell to the ground in agony.
She desperately tried to push herself up, accidentally stepping on the wrong ankle and falling down to her knees again as she screamed in pain.
Get up. She had to get up.
She fought through the tears stinging her eyes and forced herself to her feet, resting her weight on her good leg as she began to wobble forward.
When Karen grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and bringing her down on her back, Eva screamed out as loud as she could, hoping somebody, anybody, would hear her. She looked up at the brunette standing over her, a manic grin on the older woman’s face, and desperately tried to push away.
Karen kicked her in her side, hard, and Eva cried out as she felt her entire rib cage shudder with the force of the blow. She turned around, and was rewarded with another kick to her midsection that forced the air out of her lungs and had her coughing in the mud. Karen grabbed Eva by the hair, pulling the girl roughly to her feet and dragging her back around the house. Eva tried to fight, thrashing at the woman as she tried to free the pressure that threatened to rip her hair out from the roots, but each attempt was rewarded with another kick.
Eva gave in, too tired to fight, desperately trying to stay on her feet as Karen pulled her into the kitchen and threw her to the ground. The linoleum floor felt cold against her skin, her hands slipping across it as she attempted to push herself up.