by Aven Jayce
“Where are the boys?” I ask.
“Watching a movie upstairs. I thought we could use a little privacy tonight.” She leans closer to me and whispers. “Cove’s in a foul mood. I didn’t want the boys here in case the two of you get in an argument.”
I nod and look over at him in the dining room, running a finger around the rim of his glass. He frowns at me and I smile, walking into the room and placing the box on the table.
“It’s a thank you,” I say, “open it.”
“I don’t want you buying me gifts, Mark.”
“Cove, just open it,” my sister says, rolling the dinner carts into the room. Julia helps her place the four chicken dinners on the table, along with bread and a peach pie for desert while Cove takes the top off the wooden box.
“No shit,” he says with a grin.
“I thought you might be missing home. I ordered it from your place and had it shipped overnight.”
“What is it?” Julia peeks into the box. “Wine?”
“My house wine from my bar in St. Louis, The Dark Scarlett.”
“Just what he needs, more alcohol,” Sophia mumbles.
“It’s exactly what I need. The alcohol in this suite is pure sewage.”
“That’s bullshit.” I take a seat across from Julia and Sophia sits across from Cove. “I only buy top notch liquor for my hotel.”
“Nothing compares to mine.” He pours himself a glass, swirls it in the air, sniffs, and then takes a big gulp. “Ahh.”
“Three bottles enough?” I ask.
“It’s plenty Mark, thanks,” my sister says. “He’s fine until we return home.”
Cove pours a glass for everyone and although I don’t receive a thank you from him, I can tell he’s pleased. I mean; he’s already on his second glass.
“Your head looks like shit,” Cove says.
“Thanks, I know. I got lucky.”
“You never told me what happened,” Jules whispers, staring at my forehead.
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well,” Sophia chimes in.
“Tough guy, Dayne, jumped me from behind and bashed my head into the concrete floor. That’s when I knifed him. At that moment I knew it was him or me, right?” They nod as I butter my bread.
“Cove told me what happened on the boat and I don’t want to discuss this at the dinner table. New conversation,” my sister says.
“So he told you he sunk Dayne? He rolled him off the boat to rest in the depths of Lake Tahoe? Your husband was one hell of a sidekick last night.”
“What?”
“Sophia, don’t get him started. Just eat your food,” Cove says, sipping more wine.
“No, he didn’t mention that,” she fumes. “What the heck, Cove? I thought we agreed you were just going to help lift him, nothing more. What did you do?”
I laugh, which I shouldn’t, but the shit these too bicker about...
“You fucking try standing next to Mark when he’s gutting a guy like a fish and telling horrific stories of our family and see how long you last before you snap! I wanted it over with and your brother was taking his sweet ass time, then he got all weird and started singing that creepy troll song. I was not going to stand and listen to that shit, trapped in a boat, with a dead body at my feet, in the middle of the dark lake!”
“Okay,” Sophia sighs. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” he says sternly.
“Mark,” Sophia takes my hand, “I’ve been telling you since we were kids that the troll song is bad luck. He dies in the end, remember?”
“I feel so lost,” Jules says. “What troll song?”
“It’s from Billy Goats Gruff, he used to read it to me when I was little. He’s been singing it since I can remember.” She shakes her head. “My mother used to chase us around the house while she sang it to us, then Mark started repeating it like it was big fun. But it totally creeped me out, as Cove said, it’s a hair-raising song for children, and just plain strange for an adult to be singing. Flat out weird.” She looks at me and releases my hand. “Did you hear me? The nasty, goat-eating troll dies. It’s not fitting for you to think you’re a troll, Mark... could be bad karma, or something.”
“Keep singing it,” Cove whispers with a smirk.
“You should call her,” I say softly to my sister, referring to our mother. “She’d be thrilled to hear from you, even from the psych ward.”
“When hell freezes over.” She chugs her wine and passes the empty glass to Cove for a refill. “It’s been over a decade since we last spoke and the two of us have nothing to say to one another. She’s a violent wench and I won’t subject my kids to her abuse. Plus, I can’t talk to her when she’s all medicated and wants me to call her ‘mommy.’ It sends shivers down my spine.”
“It’s not a bad thing that she’s getting help. Besides, any one of us could be in one of those places.”
She laughs, trying to lighten the mood. “The doctors wouldn’t know what to do with us.”
“Fair enough.” I agree.
“Anyway, mom loves you, not me.”
“No, you just never stood up to her when we were kids. She appreciated my dominance in the house but preyed on you because you were weak.”
“That’s a shit ass excuse for her behavior. And I’m far from being weak now, but the woman still hates me.”
“You don’t know that because you don’t talk to her.”
“Yeah, I already told you, when hell freezes over.”
“Umm,” Jules cuts in. “So this is what you guys discuss over dinner? In my house we talk about sports, and books or television shows, new movies that are out, and how things are at work.”
“Damn, I’d love to be a fly on the wall at your house if you ever invite Mark over to meet your parents. He can tell them all about how he made his fortune by inheriting his father’s porn company,” Cove jokes.
“That will never happen. I’m not fifteen, going to meet the parents just to impress some chick so I can get laid... now Jules... go ahead.” I raise my hand for her to take control. “Feel free to talk about whatever the fuck you want. I’m up for a normal conversation.”
The three of us stare at her and I can tell she feels uncomfortable. She’s trying to think about something to ask, but draws a blank when put on the spot.
“Never mind,” she says. As promised, she’s behaving in front of my family.
“Well, then, I’ll change the subject.” I turn to Cove. “You remember any of Dayne’s women from back in the day?”
“Shit,” he says, taking a bite of chicken and chewing slowly while he thinks. “There were hundreds that came and went from Paul’s house. Why?”
“I don’t know, what do you think? Have you wondered about how Dayne got here and was able to buy a gun so quickly after getting out of prison? Or pay for a motel room in town? The guy was living in my dad’s house when he got arrested. He didn’t have a dime to his name.”
“There’s always a way. He knew people in Vegas. And that’s why we came here. We expected him to figure all that shit out. That’s the kind of guy he was. Why? What are you saying?”
“He brought company.”
Sophia sets down her fork. “Of course he did,” she says fretfully. “And why the hell didn’t you say something earlier, when my kids were alone in the pool? You asshole. Do we have to stay here now, or what? Who is it? Do you know him?”
“It’s not that big of a problem. You’re safe. It’s only a woman and she’ll be easy to handle if I ever run into her. And no, I don’t know her, I didn’t recognize her tits, but she did have a Jameson tat on her shoulder.”
“What tits?” Jules asks. “Wait a second. That tattoo you have... I thought...”
My sister looks at Cove with a furrowed brow. He shakes his head and whispers, “it’s not her.”
“Not who?” I ask.
“What did she look like?” Sophia asks.
“Mark, what tits?” Jules says in a bitter tone.
“I saw her through the bathroom window of Dayne’s motel room. She was bent over, toweling her hair, but I never saw her face.”
“Okay, so what did her tits look like?” my sister asks.
“You’re not going to make an ID from the description of some woman’s tits.”
“Try me.”
“Alright... too big to be cradled in my hands, they looked soft, round, short nipples, and her areolas were deep brown and large, like wider than two inches, a nice contrast to her ghost white skin.”
“Big ass?” she questions.
“Yep.”
“Mera Calloway.”
“Ha, Mera? No. This woman was too big to be Mera Calloway, both her hips and her tits were huge. I remember Mera had a small frame and good size tits and a big ass years ago, but nothing extreme. Not like the woman I saw.”
“Stop ignoring me,” Jules says. “So that tat,” she points to my shoulder, “you didn’t get it because you’re big-headed? Other people have the same one as you?”
I pull my collar down to reveal the Jameson Industries tattoo then Sophia does the same, moving the neckline of her brown dress to show the dove she had inked over my father’s company logo. But of course, Cove sits in silence, not showing his flesh, and not wanting to discuss it in any great detail tonight.
“He had two tats from the company and covered the one on his chest with a black rose,” I say, motioning toward Cove. “One was the company name and the other...”
“Stop,” he requests.
“So all of you were branded?” she asks, ignoring my last comment.
“It was business,” I respond. “It showed that my father owned us, I mean, it showed we worked for his company.”
“You were right the first time,” Cove says. “He owned us.”
“That has to be illegal. It sounds like a form of slavery.”
“Well, my dad’s dead, so that’s sort of a logjam of a comment,” I say.
“Illegal?” Cove chuckles. “You mean like killing? You’re concerned about a forced tattoo being criminal, but not murder? She’s a winner, Mark. Perfect for you.”
“Fuck off and drink another glass before I beat your ass.”
“Whatever,” he says casually under his breath.
“Why didn’t you change yours, like they did?” she asks me.
“You already answered your own question,” Cove says, taking a big sip of wine before continuing. “He’s big-headed.”
“Enough,” Sophia says. “It’s Mera Calloway. I know it. She was the last person with Dayne before his arrest and I think she really had a thing for him.”
“No,” I shake my head, “this woman was twice her size.”
“You’re such an idiot. When was the last time you saw her?” my sister asks.
She’s right. It’s been years. I remember a video of Dayne fucking her that was on one of my father’s porn sites years ago, but I haven’t seen her since.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sophia says. “I meant in the flesh, Mark. When was the last time you saw her in person?”
“Probably when the two of you were college roommates and you brought her to mom’s house for dinner. Remember, Mom got pissed that you didn’t come alone.”
“Yeah, that was like fifteen years ago. A woman who doesn’t pack on the pounds from her early twenties to her mid-thirties is either working out twenty-four seven or an alien.”
I look down at my sister’s body... she must be an alien.
“Having to keep up with twin boys is like running ten miles a day. I’m in shape because of them.”
“How the hell do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Sisters know.”
“Alright, all knowing one, if it’s Mera, I need more information about her. I only met her a few times and I never saw her when she worked for Dad. What do I need to know?”
“Beats the fuck out of me,” she responds. “I haven’t spoken to her since...”
Mera Calloway was my sister’s roommate when she attended Temple University. They met as freshmen, shared a dorm room, became lovers, and then got an apartment together. Both were total whores, bisexual, having an open relationship and sharing men. They remained best friends after graduation and moved to St. Louis where they partied hard - got drunk, laid, and didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t until my sister met Cove that her life started to change and she began maturing into a responsible adult, yet that didn’t happen by choice. My father played a big role in hooking the two of them up for his business. Cove and Sophia’s relationship was a big moneymaker to him, but so was Mera Calloway. She had long dark hair and eyes the color of a Colorado sky. A small frame, big tits and ass, and from what I saw online, a great fuck. My dad had all three of them under his control and I heard through the grapevine that when Mera was brought to his mansion to become his new house whore, Dayne Rosen fell head over heels for her. That was some fucking messed up shit. I keep telling my sister, she needs to write a book about it.
“... and then I saw her one night on the street. It was right when we all got back to St. Louis after our father was killed in Vegas. Haven’t seen her since. What you need to know is she’s tough, a real hard ass. I’ve witnessed her give a few bloody noses and a couple of black eyes to guys who fucked with her. She’s a sneaky bitch too, a calculating, skillfully sly, money-grubbing, scheming wench. She had Dayne wrapped around her finger in a matter of days, and fooled my ass about her true self for years.”
“Everyone has a weakness,” I say.
“Not her,” my sister replies.
“Can I ask something?”
“Go ahead,” I say to Jules.
“Let me get this straight. You were with this woman, sexually, right?” she says to my sister and Sophia nods. “And then she was your father’s house whore, slept with him, and then Dayne, so she was with you, your dad, and Dayne?”
We nod.
“And your father was with Cove also? And you, Mark, were with Cove, and now Sophia’s married to him?”
We nod.
“Just checking,” she whispers and throws back an entire glass of wine, then gets a refill. “I understand why you drink,” she says to Cove and he flashes a rare smile back.
“Trust me, I didn’t sleep with three Jamesons by choice,” he mutters.
“What should we do about Mera?” Sophia asks, ignoring how incredibly vile this must sound to Jules.
“Nothing. Like I mentioned, she’s just a woman.”
“Did you listen to anything I just said?”
“Yeah. She sounds weak, Sophia. Fat, slow, and weak.”
“I agree,” Cove says.
“Wow, you guys are fucking assholes,” my sister scolds.
“I second that,” Jules says. “A woman can easily harm, overpower, control, and eventually kill a man, in an emotional, sexual, or physical way... right Mark?” She flickers her thick eyelashes.
“Fuck yeah,” Cove laughs; sounding a bit drunk, “she burned your ass, dipshit.”
My foot wiggles between Jules’ legs, under her dress, and presses into her pussy. “Watch it,” I say.
She ignores me and slices a piece of chicken, stares into my eyes with her fork in the air, then gives the meat a big lick before placing it in her mouth.
“That was nasty hot,” Cove whispers.
“I love her,” Sophia says.
“I know,” I respond.
Cove opens a second bottle, appearing more relaxed than when we first arrived. “I fucking love my wine,” he says to himself. He continues to get comfortable by unbuttoning his shirt and resting his foot over his thigh.
“You guys should look this woman up. Do a search online and see what you find,” Jules says.
“Good idea.” My sister leaves the room then returns with an iPad in hand.
“I’ve done a lot of research on Dayne and her name never showed up,” I say.
“Fucking hell.”
“Watch the langua
ge, Dove,” Cove says.
“What?” I ask my sister.
“Look.” She passes the iPad my way and I repeat her words. “Yep, fucking hell. Mera’s sticking around, that’s for sure. I killed her husband.”
“No shit? She married Dayne? Damn, you fucked up,” Cove says. “When did that happen?”
“This was posted two weeks ago in Vegas. It’s on her Facebook site. She did gain weight.”
“She got another boob job too. Those are much bigger than before. And Dayne looks... I don’t remember him being that massive,” Sophia says, turning away. “She must’ve kept in touch with him the entire time he was in prison.”
I scroll through her site and see she used to work for a few different porn companies in Vegas, which isn’t surprising. Once you get a taste of that lifestyle, it’s easy to get hooked on the money that rolls in. Being a porn star is a decent job when you work for the right people. It can be shit for some, but it looks like she did fairly well. Now she lists an Italian restaurant in Vegas as her current place of employment. What a fucking joke, going from serving her pussy to serving pasta? Fuck, that sucks.
“She was thin up until a year ago, these earlier photos are how I remember her. The weight gain is pretty recent.”
“She doesn’t look all that big to me,” Jules says. “And she’s very pretty.”
“But for a porn star, she’s way past her prime... no longer marketable.” I turn to Sophia. “She’s nothing. I wouldn’t worry about her.”
“I’m not. She’s a bitch, but not insane, like you.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“No, seriously, she’s not going to shoot or stab anyone, she’ll probably just kick you in the balls and ask for a lot of money as payback for killing her husband. From what I remember, that’s her style.”
Cove leans closer to Jules and whispers, “Don’t you love how nonchalant they are about all this shit? This entire table is full of dispassionate asshats.”
“Uh, excuse me, Babe?” Sophia says melodramatically. “I am far from being dispassionate about anything,” and then she turns to Jules with a smile, “you’ll get used to all of this.”