Vigil

by V. J. Chambers

  “It’s not that important,” I said.

  “Would you be with a man who could never make love to you for longer than a few seconds? Think about it. Never.”

  I started to say that I would be with him. Of course I would. But then I did think about it. “Well, I guess it could be a little frustrating.”

  “A little?” He sat up, propping himself up against the headboard. “It’s torture is what it is. Sex becomes this thing that you dread. Both of you. She dreads it too. So, you don’t do it. And if you try, then you disappoint her. At first she tries to pretend like it’s okay, like she doesn’t care. But as time goes on, she gets more and more upset about it. And then eventually she’s angry. And then you’re angry with her, because she makes you realize how inadequate you are. And then… and then she leaves you.”

  That was horrible. I kissed his shoulder. “Oh, Callum.”

  “Eventually, I just decided I wouldn’t bother anymore. I tried with a few girlfriends, but it was always the same. So I gave up. I hired women to pose as my girlfriends.”

  “And you paid them to sleep with you?”

  He gave me a miserable look. “Maybe sometimes. Because at least with them I could be sure that I could do something that would satisfy them. I could pay them.”

  That was horrible too.

  “Do you think I’m disgusting for doing that? Taking advantage of women that way?”

  I chewed on my lip. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you took advantage of them for too long, so…”

  He gave me a shocked look.

  I giggled.

  His eyes widened, and then he started to laugh too. “It’s not really funny.”

  “A little bit,” I said, still laughing.

  “Okay, maybe.” He leaned his head back against the headboard. And then he let out a loud belly laugh, really letting go.

  And then we were both cracking up, just laughing and laughing on the bed.

  We kept going until we were out of breath. Until there were tears in our eyes. Until our midsections twinged a little.

  He pulled me close, gasping, and kissed me on top of my forehead. “What is it about you?”

  “About me?”

  “That you can make me laugh about this.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I just curled into him, enjoying his closeness.

  “I can’t believe you’re real.” His voice was quiet. “I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d be able to have anything like this.”

  “Me either,” I said.

  He pulled back. “You?”

  I looked away.

  “Why would you say that?”

  I didn’t want to get into my shit, actually. I appreciated that he was telling me this stuff about himself. I did. But I couldn’t open up like that. I wouldn’t know how.

  And I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me if he knew everything about me.

  I swallowed. “It’s like what you said. Vigil is a sexual fantasy come to life. The things that you and I do together. I never thought that I’d actually experience anything that, you know, incredibly sexy.”

  He nuzzled my neck. “Incredibly sexy, huh?”

  “Incredibly,” I agreed.

  “So, you’ve always fantasized about men in outfits?”

  “No,” I said, elbowing him. “Just… you’re so confident, I guess. Like tonight, in that bathroom, when you pushed me on my knees and…”

  “Mmm,” he agreed. “That was pretty awesome. You have skills, Cecily.”

  I felt my face get hot. “I don’t. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never really done it like that before.”

  He kissed my ear lobe. His voice was gravelly. “Well, neither have I.”

  “But you were so… in charge,” I said.

  “I can only be that way with you,” he breathed.

  I closed my eyes, feeling the way his body curved around me. “Callum?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why is it easier if I can’t see you?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  His grip loosened, and I felt him roll away from me.

  More moments passed. More silence.

  “It’s okay,” I finally whispered. “If you aren’t ready to tell me that, it’s okay.”

  * * *

  Henry was sitting at his desk in his office. He’d just taken a bite of a steak sub. He chewed, motioning me inside.

  I waited until he swallowed.

  He set down the sub. Wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Close the door.”

  I did. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Sit down, Ms. Kane,” he said.

  I sat down. “Is everything okay?” I didn’t have any news on Vigil, so I hadn’t written a story. Once we found out a little bit more about Davy Jones’ Locker, then maybe I’d have something to write.

  “Stop being so anxious,” he said. “I’m not here to scold you.”

  Okay. Good. I tried a smile.

  “You’re seeing Callum Rutherford, huh?”

  I blushed. “Oh, um, you know about that?”

  “My paper broke the story, didn’t they? I been hearing people chattering all about him kissing you in the offices down there.”

  I was mortified. I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. It was unprofessional, and it will never—”

  “Stop it, Ms. Kane. I told you I wasn’t scolding you. I was only teasing you.”

  “Oh.” I tried to smile again. I managed to look at him.

  He took another bite of his sub. He chewed. And chewed. Then swallowed. “Haven’t had a good article about Vigil in a while, have we?”

  I twisted my hands together in my lap. “I’m working on something. I don’t have anything definite yet. I can assure you, though, that I wouldn’t let my personal life eclipse my work here. I understand my priorities.”

  “Would you relax?” he said. “I told you that I’m not scolding you.”

  That was funny, because it sure seemed like he was.

  “You know, I wonder if Vigil has a girlfriend.”

  I stiffened, sitting straight up. Did he know? Was he trying to let me know that he knew my secret?

  But he just chortled to himself. “Anyone dating that guy would have to really be into freaks, right?”

  I swallowed, nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Aw, Ms. Kane. You’re too serious. You need to lighten up,” he said. “Look, all I wanted to say to you was that the news moves fast. You can’t cling to one thing and expect it to keep you at the top forever. You want to stay on the front page, you need to write front page stories.”

  “I know that, sir,” I said. “But I’m an intern. I don’t get assigned those kinds of stories.”

  “Well, you didn’t get assigned that first story on Vigil, either.”

  “Actually, I kind of…” I decided maybe it was better not to contradict him. “But I see your point, sir.”

  “You dig up the front page news, and you’ll always end up there,” he said.

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  He picked up his sub. “All right. Well, that’s all.”

  I got up. “Thanks for the advice.”

  “You ever make a decision about Vigil? Is he a hero or is he a damaged creep?”

  I chewed on my lip. “Can he be a damaged hero, sir?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Nicely done, Ms. Kane. Nicely done.”

  * * *

  Vigil was sitting on my bed. It was late at night, and I was huddled over my laptop, typing furiously. I just needed to finish my thought.

  My fingers clattered against the keys, and then I turned to him. “Sorry, I’m working on a story.”

  “I thought you’d like to come on a ride with me,” he said. “I miss you.”

  “I’m busy,” I said. “I can’t.”

  He moved across the room, a hulking dark form. He touched me, gloved hands running over my shoulders. He bent down and spoke softly in my ear. “I want you.”

 
My breath caught in my throat. I closed my eyes. “I want you too. But I can’t right now. The news moves fast, and if I want to stay on the front page, I need to dig up the kinds of stories that will keep me there.”

  “Cecily, you’re an intern. You haven’t even graduated from college. You don’t have to be on the front page yet.”

  “I do. You don’t understand. Newspapers are fading out, and very soon, there’s going to be a lot less staff for each paper. I want to be one of the people who stays. I want to have a career as a journalist. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  His hand snaked down my body, closing over one of my breasts. “All you’ve ever wanted, hmm? Somehow, I don’t believe you. I seem to remember that at some point you wanted me inside you pretty badly.”

  It was hard to breathe. His hand felt good. “You know what I mean.”

  “Come on a ride with me, Cecily,” he whispered. “Come with me someplace where we can make as much noise as we want. I need you.”

  God damn it. He was impossible to resist.

  * * *

  I was naked on the padded black bench in Vigil’s underground lair off the subway tunnels. He was beneath me. I was straddling him, and he had just given me my third orgasm of the night. Sweating and breathless, I sagged against him. He’d come too, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

  I lay down on his chest, feeling his penis slip out of me.

  He casually ran his hands over my bare back. “Fucking you has got to be the sweetest thing in the history of the universe.”

  I smiled, my cheek flat against the heat of his body. “Yeah, I like it too.”

  He poked me. “Like it? The noises you were making? I think you more than liked it.”

  “You’re right,” I said softly. “I loved it.”

  “I loved it too.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “I love you.”

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I was too stunned.

  He didn’t mean it, I told myself. He only said it because he just got off, and we’re in the afterglow. I’m sure he didn’t mean to say it.

  “Did I freak you out?” he said.

  I lifted my head. “N-no. But I thought you might want an out. An excuse. Sometimes, it’s easy for those words to slip out before you mean them.”

  He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I meant it, Cecily. But if you’re freaked—”

  “I’m fine,” I said. Say it back, I told myself. But I didn’t. My throat closed up, my mouth felt dry. I lay my head back down, my heart pounding.

  “You’re freaked,” he said.

  “I’m not.” I took a deep breath. “I—”

  He gathered me into his arms, pulling me up higher on his chest. “Cecily, you don’t have to say anything.”

  “Maybe I want to,” I said.

  “If you wanted to, you would have said it,” he said. “Look, I know that things between us are less than normal. I know this isn’t anything like a typical relationship—”

  “Fuck typical,” I said. “I don’t care about that.”

  “So, then what’s the problem?”

  “There isn’t one,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Sure, there’s not.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “It’s going to make it weird between us because I said it, isn’t it?”

  I looked up at him, deep into his eyes. “No, I swear. I feel it too.”

  “But you’re not saying it.”

  I took a shaky breath. “There are… things we don’t know about each other.”

  He turned away from me.

  “You don’t know things about me,” I said. “I just think that maybe you shouldn’t overly commit yourself to feeling a certain way until you, you know, know them.”

  He was quiet for a minute. Then, “I get it.”

  “You do?” Great. Any second he was going to ask me what these things about me that he didn’t know were. And I wasn’t going to be able to tell him.

  “Yeah. I’m keeping things from you. You want to know why I’m connected to The Phantom. You want to know why you can’t see my face when we’re intimate.”

  I’d kind of forgotten about that Phantom thing. “Yeah, actually.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Ever?”

  “Well, not yet. Maybe if we… I’ve already been more open with you than I ever have been with any other woman, and I feel… safe with you. Maybe someday…”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He kissed me.

  I kissed him back. “It’s okay.” Maybe I’d dodged a bullet. Maybe he’d forgotten about what I’d said.

  He pulled away. “You know, Cecily, you haven’t exactly told me everything about yourself either.”

  Shit. I hadn’t been so lucky after all. “Well, that’s what I said. There are things we don’t know about each other.”

  “What don’t I know about you?”

  I wriggled out of his grasp, looking on the floor for my clothing. “Oh, all kinds of things, I guess. You don’t know about my favorite childhood toys or when I learned to drive or what soap opera I used to watch my freshman year of college.”

  “No, I guess I don’t,” he said. “But I wasn’t really talking about those kinds of things.”

  I found my shirt. I picked it up. A bra would be nice.

  “When we met, you told me that the reason you wanted to take down Barclay was personal.”

  Screw it. I yanked the shirt over my head. I’d have to do without a bra. “So did you. And you haven’t told me why that is. Or why you won’t kill him.”

  “You’re getting dressed.”

  “Yes, Captain Obvious. You’re very observant.”

  He dragged a hand over his chin. “You are freaking out. You’re freaking out because I said I love you.”

  “I’m not.” Where the hell were my pants? “But it’s a big deal, you know. You don’t go around saying it to anyone.”

  “You’re not just anyone. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve said it when I shouldn’t have before. But you’re the one person I’m completely convinced that I should say it to.”

  Oh. Really? My heart swelled. I sat back down with him. “Callum—”

  He winced. “I wish you wouldn’t call me—”

  “Are you serious?” I jumped to my feet. There were my pants, over there. How the hell had they got over there? Well, it didn’t matter now. I hurried over to them.

  “I know it’s my name, but I don’t associate a lot of good things with that name. And when I’m wearing the mask—”

  “You know, that mask thing is kind of fucked up,” I said, yanking my pants on.

  “I know that.” His voice was flat.

  Damn it. I’d hurt him. I rubbed my face. I looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

  He sat up. “No, you’re right.”

  I heaved a sigh. “I’m not ready to tell you things yet either.”

  “Okay.” He was quiet.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Bu it’s not exactly fair, considering I’ve opened up to you quite a bit.”

  “It’s not the same,” I said. “The things that I…” My chest felt tight. “I need to go.”

  He was on his feet. “I’ll take you.”

  “No,” I said. “I’ll take a cab.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I gaped at Blake Monroe, who was standing in the office of The Sun-Times wearing cuffed capri pants and a tiny jacket. Her peep toe heels were at least three inches high.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her.

  She smiled. “I thought I might fight fire with fire.”

  “What?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Well, you’re a journalist, right?” she said.

  “Right,” I said, feeling impatient.

  “So, I thought I’d have
a journalist take you down.”

  “Take me what?” I sighed, exasperated. “Look, Blake, I don’t have time to play your little games here. Either you tell me what you want, or you leave. Got it?”

  “I just wanted to give you this,” she said, handing me a newspaper article. “You know, it’s funny. After Callum left the ball last night, I went to see some of the girls that he used to employ in your current position.”

  I wasn’t even looking at the paper. I wanted to rip it into a million pieces. “Callum does not employ me.”

  “But he could have,” she said. “Couldn’t he? A few years ago, you and Jewel had the same job.” She tapped the paper she’d handed me.

  I looked down at it.

  “Callum’s Gal Pal’s Sordid Stripper Past,” it read.

  Every part of my body felt as if it turned sticky. I couldn’t move. My feet stuck to the floor. My fingers stuck to the newspaper. My tongue stuck to the roof my mouth.

  Blake was smiling. A big, wide smile. So gaping it seemed to swallow her face. She looked pleased as punch. Proud of herself. “I talked to Jewel. She wasn’t happy after Callum basically kicked her to the curb. She liked that gig. It wasn’t hard to convince her to tell me everything. And it was even easier after that to get her to talk to a reporter.”

  I made a funny noise in the back of my throat. Something strangled and shocked.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear at her face. She couldn’t have done this. She couldn’t have. Not a newspaper article. Not everything about what I’d had to do, about my secret shame, splashed in front of the entire world.

  I loved newspapers. And Blake had used them against me.

  But I couldn’t move. So I didn’t touch Blake. I only stared at her, struggling to process it all.

  “Listen to me very closely, Cecily,” she said. “I’m sorry that it came to this. I really am. If Callum hadn’t seemed so serious about you, I wouldn’t have bothered. After all, I’ve let him dally around however he pleases for years.”

  What the fuck was she talking about?

  “But you should understand one thing,” Blake continued. “No matter what he says. No matter how many times he claims we’ve broken up. No matter how much he says he hates me. Callum is mine.”

  I managed to shake my head. I still couldn’t say anything.

  She laughed. “You shaking your head? You don’t agree with that?”