Twisted Love: A Dark Romance

by CM Wondrak

  A good girl. Those words… I couldn’t remember them being spoken to me before, and yet… yet it felt like things had come full circle in my life. Like the weird flashback I’d had was indeed a memory of mine, repressed, suppressed, whatever.

  And he’d known my name.

  I got up, feeling uneasy. I peeked out of the window in the front, and also the backdoor. I saw no one on the sidewalk, no one standing creepily in our backyard. There was no one around but me, and yet I still felt like someone was watching me, staring at my back, waiting for me to do something.

  But what?

  And who the hell was that man? Why did his voice make me tremble in memory, as if I’d heard it before? I knew I didn’t remember much of my childhood, not much of anything before Kayla took me in, but surely I wouldn’t forget a voice like that, nor the face that matched it.

  A possibility came into my head right then, one I could not fight. Was I going insane? Was this all in my head? It was clear I didn’t come from pure, healthy stock—not with what happened to my parents, not with what my father had done—but this just felt so real.

  I sat back on the couch, leaning my head back and staring at the ceiling for a while. My aunt did end up calling, and I told her I didn’t care what we ate that night.

  “All right,” Kayla’s voice came in through the other line, not affecting me nearly as much as the other voice had. “I’ll just pick something up. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in a bit.” She must’ve either been oblivious to how out of it I was, or I was really good at pretending. Not sure which was worse, but it didn’t matter, for she hung up soon after, once again leaving me to wonder what was going on with me.

  With the TV playing in the background, my eyes fell to the notebook on the coffee table, to Kyle’s number. Well, I was already freaked out, so why not just get this part over with?

  I input his number in my phone and texted him. Hey. It’s Tenley.

  His text back was almost immediate: Hey. I’ve been waiting for you.

  I stared at the message for a while, not knowing what he meant by that. I wasn’t an encyclopedia when it came to guys, obviously, and most of what they did or said didn’t interest me one bit. This was all for Aubree, not me.

  Now, that guy who’d called me? That guy whose voice came over me like a long-lost friend as he asked if I’d been a good girl? I was interested. I wanted to know more. I needed to know who that man was, and why I’d had a flashback to a place I couldn’t remember.

  But the fact of the matter was I wasn’t speaking to that man, whoever he was. I was texting Kyle Sturgis, Aubree’s big-time crush.

  It was awkward, at least to me. Texting Kyle was like talking to a wall, reading his boring responses and trying to act interested, all for the sake of my friend. Aubree was really all I had, and even though some days I felt like ignoring her completely, I had to do something for her. If I asked her to do something for me, I didn’t doubt she’d leap to do it.

  A friendship was a partnership and all that shit.

  I was still on the couch, still texting Kyle back and forth when my aunt arrived—though I did put more time between my responses. Kyle was not a very interesting guy, and though most of what we texted back and forth about was for school, I could tell he wanted to bring up the party again, and it made me wonder if Aubree had been right. If he’d been trying to invite my oblivious ass to his little party Friday night.

  The house smelled of Chinese takeout, and I got off the couch, wandering into the kitchen, finding Kayla in the middle of shrugging off her coat and setting it on the counter, near the plastic bag that held our dinner for the night.

  Call me weird or whatever, but I was hungry tonight. Maybe it was the stress of talking to boring Kyle, or maybe it was due to the weird phone call I’d received earlier. Who could say?

  “Get your homework done?” Kayla asked, glancing at me before opening the plastic bag and pulling out takeout containers.

  I nodded. A part of me wanted to tell her about the call, but I was kind of afraid of what she’d say, if she’d look at me like I was crazy. I tried not to bring up my parents often, because when I did, when I brought up what my father did—what her brother did to his own wife—Kayla got a hazy look in her eyes, a far-off expression that told me she still hadn’t gotten over it.

  How could you? It didn’t bother me, mostly because I’d been so young and couldn’t remember any of it, but for Kayla… she’d been about twenty-five when it happened, and it had changed the course of her entire life.

  The news always talked about the story, about the killers and their crimes. Netflix always had the newest documentaries about the serial killers that plagued America’s streets, but none ever talked about their families, how their families tried to move on. No one ever talked about the brothers or the sisters of the killers, or their children. Who would want to?

  Kayla and I wound up on the couch, eating together. The house was small; there was no room for a dining room table anywhere, so we always ate on the couch as we watched TV. It helped fill the silence, anyways. I supposed I loved Kayla, as I had to, since she was my aunt and the woman who’d taken care of me for the last ten years, but if I had to choose who to spend my time with, it wouldn’t be her.

  We were two different people. She didn’t see things the way I did, and that only served to put distance between us. Where I adored the darkness in its pure simplicity, Kayla had her nightlights and her night-vision cameras.

  I thought about bringing Kyle up, but I didn’t want Kayla to get the wrong idea. I’d tucked my phone under my leg after turning it on silent; I’d resume texting Kyle after dinner, when I was no longer two feet away from my overprotective aunt.

  Seriously, she never wanted me to leave the house. There was nothing wrong with it, since the world outside this house was boring as hell most of the time and its people annoying as fuck, but sometimes, when you were locked away, you could lose yourself if you weren’t careful. It was only my insistence as a child that caused her to let me go to school.

  Going to a public school after being homeschooled for a while? Not the most fun thing, but I digress.

  Kayla turned her attention away from the television screen, eyes on me. “Have you thought about which school you want to go to next fall?” Not going to college was not an option, not in her opinion, even though going to any sort of school would load me up with a lifetime of debt because she couldn’t afford to chip in at all.

  I forced out a smile. “Not really.” I tried to make it out like an oopsie sort of thing, like I’d simply forgotten, but my aunt was not having any of it.

  “Tenley,” she said, her carton of food nearly eaten already. Mine was about a quarter gone, and I didn’t know how much more I could even eat. “You’re running out of time, time you can’t afford to lose. I’m sure all your friends have already picked their colleges—”

  I said nothing at that, not knowing why the hell my aunt thought I had loads of friends. Needless to say, I didn’t, but nothing could ever convince Kayla of that.

  Her voice came back into my head; even zoning out could not push her nagging away. “You need to buckle down. Pick one.”

  Trying to stop myself from rolling my eyes, I muttered, “I will.” Before she could say anything else, I got up, setting my takeout container on the coffee table before us. “I’m done. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

  Kayla opened her mouth to say something else, probably to try to stop me from running away up the steps, but in the end I went anyway, ignoring whatever it was she said.

  Once I was back in my room, I checked my messages. Three from Kyle. Seemed a little over the top, but when I read them, I knew Aubree would be a happy camper come tomorrow, and an even happier one Friday.

  We had a party to go to.

  Chapter Three – Tenley

  The sun shined brightly overhead, hot on my skin. I played on the swing set in our backyard, my legs inches off the ground, my thin, tiny arms barely ab
le to hold myself on the swing as I swung back and forth.

  Mom and Dad were inside; they didn’t like it when I was on the swing without one of them watching me. I could hurt myself, they said, but as far as I saw it, as long as I was being careful, it didn’t matter. I’d be fine. I was invincible.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was swinging so high, the swing set shook every time I hit the highest point. I let out a giggle, feeling so carefree, having so much fun.

  A voice cut into my thoughts, causing me to open my eyes, “I’m sure your parents don’t like it when you’re out here alone.” A deep voice. A low voice. A voice that made me stop what I was doing and stare at its owner. “Good girls listen to their parents, Tenley.”

  I smiled.

  When I woke up Friday, I woke up with the weirdest feeling. I’d dreamed of a time long gone, and I wasn’t sure if it was a memory or if it was just a dream, my subconscious reminding me how much simpler things were when I was a child.

  Not going to lie, I’d been thinking of that voice a lot, the man who’d called and asked if I’d been a good girl, so it made sense to dream about it.

  It was odd, though. I didn’t normally have dreams, and lately… lately it felt like I’d been having them more and more. They didn’t make a lick of sense, but wasn’t that what dreams were supposed to do? They were supposed to be random and nonsensical.

  That dream… when that man had approached me in the backyard and spoke to me, his rough voice falling over me and causing me to grin and stop swinging—I’d looked at him. I’d looked at him, but I hadn’t seen anything. A man, clearly, but no face. Nothing to show it was a memory and not just a random dream brought about by that strange phone call a few days ago.

  I was up and out of bed much earlier than I usually was, all because I wanted to let Kayla know that I was spending the afternoon and night with Aubree. I’d never tried to go out with a friend before, but I figured it would be less of a shock to her than me telling her I was going to a party tonight.

  She’d never let me go to a party, but surely she’d let me hang out with Aubree. Lying to her about it was not something I wanted to do, but at the same time, Aubree would never go to the party alone. She wanted me there with her.

  The project Kyle and I had to work on was pushed aside for now, which wasn’t surprising. There would be no getting together before the party at Kyle’s house and working on it together, which was more than fine with me. I figured I’d have to do it all myself, anyway, but it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I was pretty good at writing papers and stuff like that.

  I was dressed and ready for the day—and technically night—quite early, and I walked down the stairs, holding onto my backpack at my side. I dropped it onto the floor in the kitchen, causing Kayla to glance up sharply. She was leaning over the counter, scrolling mindlessly through her phone as she devoured the waffles she’d made herself.

  Kayla nearly stumbled back when she saw me. She made a dramatic show about checking the time on her phone before saying, “You’re up awfully early.” Her voice was suspicious, for good reason, I guess, since I did have an ulterior motive.

  “I’m going over Aubree’s house tonight,” I said bluntly. If there was ever someone who knew how to tiptoe around a situation, it definitely wasn’t me. I didn’t care enough to.

  “What?” Kayla blinked, shocked at what I’d said. It didn’t take her too long to shake her head. “You can’t just spring that on me, Tenley.”

  “Why? It doesn’t affect you.” Probably not the response I should’ve said, but once it was out, it was too late to take it back.

  “No, it doesn’t, but you know the rules.”

  It was now my turn to blink stupidly at her. “Yes, I know the rules, and I don’t understand why it matters if I go hang out with a friend on a Friday night. That’s what people my age do.” Since Kayla looked like she wanted to argue with me, I added, “It’s like you don’t treat me like a person, like you don’t trust me to make my own decisions.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Really? Then why don’t you let me get a part-time job on the weekends? At least then I’d be able to save up some money for my future,” I told her, feeling miffed. How could she not see how much of a helicopter guardian she’d been all this time? “You never let me go to any of the school dances, never let me hang out with Aubree unless she comes over here. I’m not allowed to go anywhere unless it’s school. You don’t even want me at the grocery store with you. I get it if you hate me, but come on. I can’t live like this forever.”

  Damn. Listen to me. I sounded like a normal teenager. Almost.

  Kayla’s mouth hung open; I think she was in shock at my forwardness, at my stubbornness. Every other time she’d told me I couldn’t do something, I shut up and swallowed it down, listened to her word as if it was law.

  But today was not that day.

  “I’m eighteen years old, and I think that’s old enough to start making my own decisions when it comes to what I do after school and on the weekends,” I said, staying strong. It wasn’t like I was telling her I was going out of town for a week with my friend, like I wouldn’t come home for the night or anything like that.

  I wasn’t asking for the world, just a tiny fraction of it. A sliver.

  “Tenley…” Kayla spoke my name, sounding… sad. Depressed. Beaten-down. “You know I only try doing what’s best for you.”

  My aunt never had malicious intent, that much I knew. Still, I didn’t stop myself from saying, “Then why keep me in this house like a prisoner?” I think it was the last word that got to her, for she pushed off the counter and heaved a sigh.

  It took her a while, but Kayla muttered, “You’re not a prisoner here. You never were. I just…” She stopped herself from saying whatever it was she was about to say next, a strange, distant expression crossing her face and clouding over her green eyes.

  “Just what?”

  Kayla appeared as if she wanted to say something, as if what she’d wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue, but all she did was shake her head and give me a smile. “You’re right. You’re eighteen. If you’re not old enough to start making your own decisions about things, then I haven’t done my job.”

  Even though I shouldn’t, I felt a little bad. “It’s not your job.”

  “It is. After the accident with your parents, it became my job,” she said. She looked at me then, looked at me hard, studying the way I stood, the clothes I wore, how my blonde hair tumbled over my shoulders. “I’m sure your parents would love the strong girl you’re growing up to be.”

  It was meant to be a compliment, so I smiled back at her, but what I really wanted to do was ask her why she kept calling it an accident. It wasn’t an accident when the police themselves ruled it a murder-suicide. How can Kayla, after all these years, pretend her brother—my father—was a good man?

  “Come on,” Kayla broke the heavy silence in the room. “Let’s get you to school.”

  I kept quiet, not saying anything as I waited for her to clean up her plate and grab her keys and jacket. My mind kept replaying her words: an accident. Murder was never an accident, nor was turning a gun onto yourself and pulling the trigger.

  I’d never seen the actual crime scene. They’d kept me away from all of that, from what little I could remember of the time. I did catch myself wondering what it looked like, though. How the blood and brains of my father painted the wall, how the blood had pooled around my mother’s lifeless body on the floor.

  Or on the couch, or wherever he’d killed her.

  It was a morbid thing to think about, something Kayla would scold me for wondering about, but I couldn’t help it. My curiosity was sick, I guess, but it wasn’t something I could change about myself. I liked the darkness and its macabre wonders, craved everything it offered.

  Some days, this morning included, I wished I remembered more, wished I would’ve walked into the room and seen it.

  Yeah, that wasn
’t something I would ever say aloud. I wasn’t stupid.

  Kayla pulled up to the school soon enough, and I got out. I wore what I would wear to the party tonight; I didn’t plan on getting all dolled-up like Aubree did. I would go with her for support, I guess, because that’s what friends did.

  At least, I think that’s what friends did. Hard to say, since I didn’t really have any.

  I headed into the building, having arrived earlier than I had in a long time. I got there so early, in fact, Aubree wasn’t waiting by my locker, so I took my time in finding my combination on the lock and opening it, slow to shrug off my backpack and stuff it into the locker. I grabbed what I’d need for my first few classes, about to close my locker when my mind, for whatever reason, recalled that voice.

  Have you been a good girl, Tenley?

  And then the voice in my dream… that same dark, rough and scratchy voice that made me shiver just thinking about it.

  If anyone else had asked me if I’d been a good girl, I would think them a total creep, but the way this guy had asked me, how the timbre of his voice had made my body react of its own accord—it was unreal. It was like a primal instinct, and the way he’d whispered the question to me over the phone had made me want to both break down and tell him that, yes, I’d been a good girl, but also to fuck off because I was no one’s good girl.

  The things I thought… the things my mind came up with and wondered about; no good girl would be caught dead wondering those things. I might act like a good girl, but I wasn’t, and a part of me couldn’t help but think about that man and what he’d do to me if he found out how much of a good girl I wasn’t deep down.

  My body warmed at the thought.

  I didn’t know how long I was lost in my own head, my body feeling the low ache of longing, but it must’ve been a while, for as I came back into myself and shut my locker, Aubree appeared, giddy and grinning, looking the happiest I’d seen her in… well, ever.

  “What did she say?” Aubree asked, her backpack still around her shoulders.