Jameson Hotel - The Dark Suite Series: Parts One, Two & Three

by Aven Jayce

“Yeah, and I’d be perfectly fine letting you handle this on your own... in my dreams... or I guess that would be a nightmare,” I say sarcastically while opening my suite.

  “So what’s going on? How’d you take him down?”

  “Shh. I’ve got company upstairs.”

  “What kind of company?” he whispers.

  I give him my best you dumbass look as I open the door to the stairwell and we head to my garage.

  “Cove,” I stop part way down and turn to him, “you know I love you, right?”

  He puts up a hand so I stay back. “Is this another one of your fucked up pranks? Is Dayne here or not?”

  I let out a disappointing sigh and look into his brown worrisome eyes, wanting to blow the dark wavy piece of hair from his forehead. He’s pale, probably from being in the suite for so long, and skittish, but that’s normal. All I ever think about when I see him is the abuse he endured as my father’s number one star in the porn industry. That’s what my dad called him. His Star. I want to comfort the guy, yet at the same time I’d love to kick his ass and tell him to grow a pair.

  “Mark,” he whispers. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s here, but we need to...”

  “You didn’t really do anything drastic, right? Soph said you mentioned killing him earlier. What the fuck is that all about? Can we pay him to disappear from our lives?” He speaks nervously. “He likes money. Everyone does. How much does he want? I’ll give him anything, you know that, anything to keep Soph and the kids safe.”

  This time I exaggerate my sigh and continue the two flights down the stairwell. He’s always been a submissive dainty boy and a bit gullible when it comes to things like this.

  We’re the same height and share the same muscular build, but our other characteristics are like night and day, in a very bizarre sort of way. On the outside, I’m the blonde palomino horse and he’s the black stallion. Both exquisitely striking, stately, broad chested, and well hung. But on the inside, he’s a Dandelion Puffball and I’m Deadly Nightshade, the toxic Belladonna.

  “I need help lifting...”

  “Jesus Christ!” Cove shouts as we enter the garage. “What the fuck happened?” He bends over and places his hands on his knees then stands and begins to pace. “Fuck, what the fuck!”

  “Chill and keep your voice down.”

  “No. What did you do! Damn it! Did you stab him with something? Why is he covered in blood? What the hell happened?”

  “When a dickwad like Dayne has me on the ground and says he’s gonna cut me up, I’m gonna do something about it. What the fuck did you think was going to happen? It was him or me. And if he won you would’ve been next, then Sophia. Get real and fucking help me out. It’s the least you can do.”

  “No, this is too gruesome.”

  “What the fuck? Where are you going?” I clutch his arm as he takes off for the stairs.

  “I thought I was prepared to handle something like this, considering everything I’ve been through, but fuck no. Just, fuck no.”

  “What would you have done? Look at my head, Cove. I can feel the blood dripping. And you know he took a shot at me earlier,” I raise my voice and pull him over to Dayne. “Get his legs and help me lift him onto the bed of my truck.”

  “I’m not placing a finger on him!”

  “Fine, I’ll pay your kids a hundred bucks a piece and they’ll do it,” I say sharply.

  “This isn’t a joke,” he snaps back.

  “I wasn’t joking. Don’t force me to dismember him. It’s too messy, now grab his goddamn legs.”

  “What?” He starts to panic. “You’re fucking insane! What are we gonna do with the body?”

  “Good, you said we. And it’s not a body. He’s not dead yet.” I place my foot on Dayne’s shoulder and he comes alive with a groan.

  “No,” Cove whispers and steps back. “No, we’re not... I’m not... damn it, Mark. How the hell can you ask me to do this?”

  “You’re an asswipe,” Dayne moans. “Both of you... asswipes.”

  “Fuck.” Cove paces and runs his hand through his hair. This is his usual routine when he freaks out, and he’s only going to get worse.

  “Why don’t you go back to your suite and send Sophia down.”

  “Screw you,” he seethes. “You bastard. We didn’t discuss this. I don’t want to be in a room with a dying man.”

  “I just said I had no choice in how things played out. We’re dealing with a demented mammoth who wanted a lot of people dead.”

  “Are you talking about Dayne or referring to yourself?”

  “Real nice, dickhead. I thought you’d be more appreciative to the fact that I saved your ass... twice.”

  He places his hands in the air and turns away. “I don’t even want to know what that means. Jesus! I knew you were a fucking monster!”

  I close my eyes, exhale, and shake my bowed head in disappointment. This is exactly why I’ve always taken care of shit on my own. “Go back to your family,” I whisper. “I’ll figure out a way to make him disappear without your help.”

  “He’s not dead, Mark.”

  “Neither is my sister, or you, or my nephews, and I’m surprised you’re not focusing on that fact instead of the rodent on the floor. And I’m not dead either, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I knew she was here,” Dayne mumbles. “I knew the whole asinine family was here.”

  I take a roll of duct tape from my toolbox, open my blade and slice a piece for his mouth. “Any last words?” I ask, leaning over him.

  “I hope you assholes sleep well... knowing I was going to force feed the meat on your bones to your offspring dipshit children.” He struggles to breathe. “Sleep well... knowing someone else... will finish this for me.”

  I cover his mouth and he mumbles under the tape.

  “Lift his legs,” I demand while pulling him up by his armpits. Cove doesn’t move an inch, still hanging on Dayne’s last words. I start dragging the beast toward the truck, knowing I might be able to get him in the back by myself, but getting him from my truck, down a set of stairs, along a long dock, and into my boat is a whole other story.

  I lay him face down then follow the trail of blood across the garage until my eyes land on Cove’s distressed face.

  “At one time I thought you had grown a backbone.” Now I’m fucking irritated with him. “This is what it’s come down to and you can’t deny that you would’ve done the same thing if he had gotten to you first.”

  “I wouldn’t have tortured him with multiple wounds and kept him suffering for all this time.”

  “Why? My feeling is you should treat people the way they treat others.”

  “You moron, it’s treat people the way you want to be...”

  “Cove,” I walk over and place my hands on his shoulders, “you and I have been beaten, called scum, and have had our asses ripped in two by men who purchased us for an hour of pleasure. My dad made a fortune selling our bodies. I did it because I fell in love with the money and I had the crackbrained idea that it would please my dad, and maybe, just maybe he’d start to like me, but I know you didn’t have a choice.” I turn back to Dayne. “That sleaze by the truck, my dad’s heavy, he made sure you never left or got out of line. I overheard him and my father laughing one night about nearly drowning you... they said you shit your pants, and at that time, you were like nineteen or twenty. How many times did they torture and nearly kill you before that?”

  “Shut up, Mark.”

  “Dayne used to stand outside the sex rooms in my dad’s mansion with a mile wide grin on his face, listening to you getting your...”

  “Enough!” he fumes.

  “He drugged my sister, your wife, sat on top of her and gave her a Jameson Industries tat...”

  “Alright!”

  “... then he kept her locked away so he and my dad could do the same shit to her that they did to us.”

  “Shut the hell up!” He walks over to Dayne and grabs his legs.
“Let’s make this quick.”

  “I plan on it.” I smile as we lift the moaning buffoon onto the truck bed, cover him with a tarp, and pull out of the garage.

  Cove doesn’t speak the entire way to the lake and when I park in front of the path to the dock, he drops his head and sighs.

  “Seriously? I thought you’d leave him in the woods to bleed out,” he whispers. “You’re gonna pull a Paul Jameson tonight, after you just went off on what a dick he was. Let’s think of a better way then dumping him in the lake.”

  “Dayne’s probably already dead and I’m not leaving any trace of him for the cops to come across. He’s got too much of a connection to you and Sophia.”

  He rubs his face then laughs at the irony of the situation and steps out of the truck. He spent a good part of his life worrying that my dad was going to do this same shit to him.

  “This area better be safe.”

  I nod as we secure the tarp around Dayne. “No one will be around this time of the night, not to mention this time of the year. It’s a private area. I rent two of the six slips at this dock and the other four are rented by local hot shots. It’s safe.”

  We’re careful blood doesn’t drip from the tarp when we carry him to my Cobalt. It’s a good size boat with a step platform on the back - something that’s helpful when rolling a body into the water. Once on board, I take a bucket of water to my truck and dump it in the bed to wash out any evidence of blood, just in case a cop happens to show up with a waving flashlight once again.

  Cove’s a mess when I return; his face is resting in his palms, his foot’s tapping, and his entire body’s twitchy. This will be good for him.

  “Buck up, buddy,” I say, starting the boat.

  He shows his sickly face as we pull away from the dock.

  “You had the boat uncovered and ready to go before we even arrived. This was planned, Mark. What the fuck?”

  “And? So what?” I knew this is where Dayne was going to sink into the depths of Hell. I prepped the boat before my morning appointment with Roland.

  Keeping a low speed, I head a mile out and turn off the motor. At this distance he’ll sink about a thousand feet.

  “Cove, open your eyes,” I demand while removing the tarp from Dayne. “I’ve got two cement blocks in the back compartment with some rope. Tie one to his legs, make sure it’s secure, and I’ll get the other around his neck.”

  He moves hesitantly, but for once follows my instructions. I’m surprised he hasn’t... yep, that’s what I was waiting for. My brother-in-law’s famous for vomiting under stress.

  “Sophia make you and the kids SpaghettiOs for dinner?” I laugh and finish tying the knot. “Smells yummy.”

  “You need to be put away.” He shakes his head and wipes the puke from his lips, unquestionably upset.

  “What? Like my mother? I’m saner than her and all the rest of you. I’m not living in some fantasy world.”

  “Tell me he’s dead. I’ll never sleep again if you roll him in while he’s breathing.”

  “Get upfront, I’ll finish this. And keep your eyes closed so you don’t puke again.”

  “Gladly.”

  I sigh and place a hand on Dayne. I doubt he’s still alive after I tied a knot around his neck. And why should I care? Especially since I watched him dispose of a few men from my father’s boat on Lake Mead, only they were still alive, in tears, and pissing themselves. I think it’s fitting for Dayne to die the same way that he made so many other men suffer. And I’m not sick, as Cove believes. People get what they deserve. Shit, the fucker almost shot me.

  And Dayne’s death isn’t ghastly in any way, not like the ones I witnessed. If he’s not dead already, he will be before he hits the water. I need to take extra precautions to get the gas and air out of him so he stays down. This isn’t cruel. Drowning a person is cruel. What I’m doing is just a little unpleasant.

  With the brute on his side, I open my blade and jab his lungs multiple times then impale his gut, making sure his stomach and intestines are pierced. Blood oozes from his body, seeps onto the back of the boat and flows into the water.

  “Holy Jesus,” Cove says in a faint whisper. “Stop. Please just push him in and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I give Cove my best shut the fuck up look and continue finishing this my way.

  “Hang tight,” I say while turning back to the body and putting my blade back in my pocket. “Let me tell you a bedtime story before you fall into infinite sleep,” I whisper. “Once upon a time... there was a man named David Rosen. He had twin boys named Dayne and Doron, meatheads who were more muscles than brains. The three of them decided to start a porn company, only David knew he was in need of a front man, a face for the business, someone who would take the fall if the company ever went under. He knew his sons weren’t bright enough so enter Paul Jameson. My dad. He became the king of porn, the head of Jameson Industries, and had complete control over David’s sons.”

  “Mark, enough,” Cove whispers.

  “But one day, a lot of shit happened, and my father’s bodyguard, you Dayne, you weren’t watching over him. So why is that? What were you doing when my father got shot in the head?”

  Cove stands and folds his arms.

  “I heard you were too busy locking my sister in a room so your father could fuck her.”

  “Shit, I can’t listen to this.” He covers his ears and turns away.

  “So we’re just one big fucked up family, right? My dad raped the guy standing behind me, and your dad tried to rape my sister. And you came after us because of this shit, because a couple of dickhead rapists are dead? Was it worth it?”

  “Start the boat. Stop talking, dump him, and start the boat,” Cove says, attempting to pace in the small area behind the seats.

  “When the cops investigated my father’s death your arrest was justified. And your father got what he deserved when he sought revenge for your prison time on my sister and brother-in-law. That’s what you wanted to hear. As far as I’m concerned, your father’s death was necessary.”

  “Mark, I don’t want to hear this.”

  I take Dayne’s gun from my waist and toss it in the water, watching it vanish instantly. A third cement block gets tied around his chest as I continue my story.

  “I had a gun pointed at you the other day in my hotel. With your strength you could’ve easily turned it on me, making it look like I shot myself in the head. The tale would be that I committed suicide... just like the story of your dad. Good old David Rosen. And now it’s over. Damn, it seems so anticlimactic, doesn’t it?” I set my hand on his chest, and start to loop the final knot. “I suppose I should at least sing you the troll song as a bon voyage... I’m a troll...”

  “We’re done here,” Cove says and scrambles to the back, pushing Dayne hastily into the dark water.

  “No!”

  The loop of rope tightens around my hand and I’m pulled in, sinking rapidly with him into the pitch-black lake.

  The cold feels like razorblades piercing my flesh and my breath is driven instantly from my body.

  I gasp.

  The pain’s sharp and crippling.

  There’s total darkness.

  No! I’m not going to the grave with Dayne.

  It can’t end this way.

  In a scramble, I pull my switchblade from my hoodie and slice away at the rope, sinking fast, starting to panic, concentrating on my breathing so I don’t hyperventilate. Hurry, hurry, fuck!

  My heart’s pumping frantically and I could easily go into cardiac arrest. I need out!

  At last, after cutting through the rope, I’m free.

  I rush upward through the frigid water.

  Everything’s black.

  I’m confused. Where’s the boat?

  Which way is up?

  Fuck, I need a breath!

  My chest... there’s so much pressure... kick, kick, swim... upward.

  Gasping for air when I break the surface, my body and mind
are in a state of frenzy and shock.

  Wheezing.

  Coughing.

  Confused.

  I’m pulled onto the boat and covered in a blanket.

  “Shit-ass mistake, Private Snafu,” I pant with chattering teeth. “Shit-ass, mistake.”

  WATCHING YOU

  “Don’t give Sophia the details,” I request. “She doesn’t need any specifics.”

  “She already knows you’re a psychopath like Paul.”

  “No. That’s bullshit. I did the right thing. I always do the right thing and it’s far from being psychotic.”

  “Yeah, you’re a fucking saint, Mark. I’m not going to lie to my wife. If she wants to know, I’ll tell her.”

  I ignore Cove’s naive response as we step inside my suite. I’m in a shitload of pain, shivering, and my extremities are slightly numb, but I’m alive and able to walk on my own. I’m lucky it’s only mild hypothermia.

  “Thanks for washing off the boat platform and for lending me your shirt.”

  “Give me something to put on so I can get the hell away from you and back to my suite.” He sounds and looks miserable, standing bare-chested in my living room.

  “He was already dead. You didn’t kill him, buddy.”

  “Shut up! I don’t want to discuss this any more.”

  “Here.” I unbutton the shirt and toss it at his chest. “Keep Sophia and the boys in the room until I talk to you tomorrow morning. We need to discuss something important before you leave.”

  “Whatever,” he whispers, slamming the door on his way out.

  “I did this for you, asshole!” I yell through the door.

  “Mark?” Julia calls from the bedroom. “What’s going on?” A set of footfalls echo through my suite then the bedroom door opens.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “What time is it?” the dark silhouette asks.

  “Don’t know. Late. After one.”

  “You worked late. Did you get a lot done?”

  She doesn’t sound awake.

  “Yes, quite a bit actually.”

  “Were you talking to someone?”

  “My brother-in-law.”

  “Why is he... what? Is everything okay?”

  “Just fine. My family’s visiting. Maybe you’ll meet them tomorrow.” She wraps her arms around my body when I reach the landing.