Sinful Red

by Celia Crown

  Taking a glass, I fill a cup of cold water, and the condensation builds up quickly. It fogs up the side as soon as I set it down; the ice clinks from the cup and the pitcher.

  I had the owner prepare his food five minutes earlier than the exact time Eric comes in. He must be hungry after so many hours of working under the sun. Summer means that the sun is out longer, and he works just as long. I wish he would pace himself and take breaks, but over the three months of understanding him, he likes to take care of things on his own.

  Help is somewhat a foreign concept to him.

  Eric tells me about his day, and I listen with occasional remarks. There aren’t any other customers for me to serve as it’s close to nine when everyone should be either at the local bars or at home.

  “Nora, why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” the owner’s voice comes from the window behind me.

  I turn with Eric’s money in my hand. I put it in the register and raise an eyebrow at the owner, “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah!” he grins with his eyebrows jumping up and down, “It’s a slow day. I’ll close soon and head home to my wife.”

  There’s love in his eyes. My heart swells in contentment for him, and I nod at his suggestion.

  “Alright, but don’t close too late.”

  The owner cocks his head, “Huh!”

  “Is something wrong?” I take the plates and glass of water to the owner who turns to put it in sink before returning to the little window access point to stare at Eric and me with a contemplating look on his face.

  “You’re really mature for someone so young,” he points out.

  A lie readily slides out of my lips, “I like to read classic books.”

  “I’m guessing rich parents?” the owner smirks.

  It is common practice to never have a background in wealth nor poverty. It’s best to keep it as baseline as possible without any need to draw up questions that someone might check if they are skeptical.

  “No, I found my interest in books when I was reading Romeo and Juliet in high school. It was required reading, but it’s better than reading thrillers in the library.”

  Blending truth in lies helps the statement to flow better; I do like to read, but I did not go to high school.

  “You were a nerd,” the owner pokes fun of me lightheartedly.

  I chuckle, “I still am.”

  Untying the apron from my waist, the owner shoots me a goodnight shout as he goes back to cooking for the lonesome customer by the window.

  I look at Eric whose eyes are unwavering molten lava of caramel. Shivers nip at the back of my neck as I slide out from behind the diner counter.

  I have a simple shirt and shorts. I blend in just fine with other people while not overheating in the unforgiving heat.

  “Do you want to walk me home?” I offer, and he accepts eagerly.

  A gentle giant, I muse silently as I feel his hand on the small of my back when he guides me out of the door.

  We walk in a silence that consumes us in a wave of serenity as the sky lights up in millions of stars that gleam in their connection with each other.

  Unconsciously, he steers me to the direction of my temporary home after I told him the direction; it was a vague instruction, but he knows. He tries to not show it, but I know that he knows exactly where I live and what route I take.

  For all three months of me being here, he is the shadow that protects me when I walk home at night. He doesn’t know that I am aware of his presence in the shadows when he follows me home. I think it’s a sweet gesture of him to worry about me, so he trails me home to make sure that nothing happens to me.

  We come to the home that I had rented with cash. He follows me up to the porch and that glow of caramel glinting longing.

  I smile with fingers curling at the base of his thick neck and pulling him down. His massive body bends; the scent of wood and dried concrete hits me as I press my lips to his scruffy cheek.

  “Goodnight, Eric.”

  Chapter Two

  Eric

  Nora is my addiction.

  She has beautiful blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, a small body that would fit perfectly in my arms, and I would use them to shield her from danger.

  She is the highlight of my day; the sun doesn’t count because she lights up the darkness in my heart in one smile. I feel safe when I see her, and I never feel that I am a man on the run when she graces her beauty on me.

  I’m not worthy of her, but I want to be her everything, and I want her to look at me— to see the burning need for her. I never want her to see the broken man with no value other than abnormal strength for labor work. I want her to see that I can become something to support her.

  I have never felt this way before; nothing in my life has ever burned this hotly in me that it consumes my thoughts. The adrenaline, when being on the run from my old life, does not compare to the loud echoes of my heart when it sings for her.

  She’s a woman shrouded in mystery; I knew the moment I saw her that she is not just a simple city girl who wanted a quiet place to live her life.

  I would know because I’m living in a false story, but my name is the same. I didn’t have access to a fake identity, but it’s the best I can do since no one in my past would find out where I am.

  I’m hiding secrets of my own, and I would know Nora is doing the same because it takes one to know another. I want to find out what she is running from, so I can help her, but she doesn’t let me in the way that I want to get in her life.

  She is open, but that is a façade that she keeps around her to fend off those who ask questions. Nora has a story that people believe, but I don’t believe her. Not because the story is not believable, but it’s the way she carries herself.

  She’s dangerous and beautiful, shrouded in lies, and has an iron wall higher than the skies.

  I am most likely overthinking it because I have been on the run and I need to see the bad in people. I can’t get too close to them while I might have to run again when my past catches up.

  I planned on staying low in the town and living the rest of my life here. This place is filled with ex-cons who got released from the nearby prison, so it’s hard for people to keep up with who has what type of record and who doesn’t have it.

  That plan went out of the window one year later.

  During a March rain shower, I met Nora with her umbrella and a bag of groceries.

  She waved and smiled a smile that broke through the gloomy clouds. She is a ray of sunshine that stole my heart at that moment.

  Falling in love is such an insane thing to accept; love has never been on my lifelong list, I only had survival to think about, and for once, I felt that I could breathe when I saw her.

  Nora has this effect on me that defeats the monstrous fear in me. She makes me want to better myself and stop running from the what-ifs.

  I want to settle down.

  I dreamed once; we were married with a house and a baby on the way, the perfect life that I never got when I grew up in a neighborhood that was ridden with drugs and death.

  “Hey, did y’all hear?” Ben says as he sets the hammer down on the ground.

  He’s one of the crews of a small construction company; the owner also works since he’s a hands-on man like we all are.

  Everyone stops work as they begin to put away things for the day. Dinner time is here, and it’s time to see Nora again.

  “Hear what?” a voice came from the back of the house with the basic wood foundation.

  We’re near the midline, but we’re still a long way to the finished house. It’s a house that the state had funded to house more inmates as a halfway house since this town has become a known stop for freshly out of prison men.

  I’m not a new felon. I have had my share of prison time in the big city before I went on the run. More than one time, I have felt safer in prison than on the outside because, in caged walls, it’s a controlled environment that lessens the risk of being caught.
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  If and when I get caught, I’m going to get killed and that is the only acceptable outcome.

  Then Nora would get caught in the middle. She doesn’t need more trouble from me when she is also running from her own secrets.

  Maybe it’s one of the reasons why I am so attracted to her. I see myself in her; the vulnerable and caged little boy who needed protection but received nothing.

  I realize when I was growing up that the only way to survive in the harsh conditions of a drug-filled world is to be vicious and a manifestation of a monster that people fear. That and also finding a family that has my back, but that had been a mistake that took everything from me.

  My childhood and my family, they’re all gone because of the ‘family’ that I thought would be a way to get out of that world. I was naïve and stupid. I didn’t think of the consequences lying three steps ahead.

  “Some guy died yesterday, heard the police talking about it by their cars.” Ben cracks his neck.

  “Shit, really?” another voice joins in as I drop the bag of tools into a case where it gets locked for the night.

  The owner brings it home and back to the construction site every morning and night. They are his tools, so no one has to spend more money on things to finish the project.

  Ben sniffs, “Yeah, he was strung up like a scarecrow on a cornfield just outside of town.”

  “Freaky shit.” Ben shudders and wipes his hand on his plaid shirt.

  “Did they catch the killer?” I ask. It’s an odd thing that happens in a town that doesn’t have much violence despite the number of felons.

  “No,” Ben shakes his head, “Cops think it’s college kids on a road trip and things went bad.”

  “Oh,” the owner says as he gathers the tools from the table with other blueprints. “Was the guy young?”

  “Well, no,” Ben says, “He was a felon. I heard the cops were talking about the ink on his arm. Prison gang or some group, but they don’t think it’s related to his prison time.”

  I freeze for a moment, my ears straining to hear more answers as I haven’t heard anything about a death in town yet. The news must have broken just after lunchtime because Ben had gone to the hardware store to pick up some materials that we ran out.

  Fear curls in my stomach and I violently push it back with my eyes glaring at the stack of tools in my hand. The need to check up on Nora is affecting with my ability to think clearly. All I can see is her pretty face smiling at me when she greets me with those green eyes focusing only on me.

  I saw her at lunchtime, but that was hours ago, and I need to get to her immediately. I have a bad feeling in my gut that is almost never wrong because it comes from experience and experience goes a long way when I am in survival mode.

  Tossing everything in the toolbox, I dash out of the unfinished house without hearing the shouts of my name from my coworkers who took my response too seriously. They sounded concerned, and I appreciate it because it means that they care at some level, but I can’t afford to be close to them, and I can’t think of anything other than Nora.

  Until I see it with my own eyes that she is safe from the horror story that I heard, I won’t be able to breathe because of the horrid images of her replacing the unknown felon on the scarecrow flash in my mind with a mockery of crows cawing in the background.

  Crows are a common bird that flocks the town. It’s a bad omen, and something is happening. It feeds the superstitions that the town has, but I’m never the one to believe such things.

  I believe what I can see, and I will believe Nora is safe when I see her.

  My lungs burn as I run down the street to the illuminated diner. My eyes scan the windows, and I only see the owner moping the floor. The owner and I don’t talk much; I’m not a talkative man, so it’s useless to make small talk.

  I like hearing Nora talk, and I will say something if she asks my opinion, but I like hearing her voice and the greens of her eyes light up when she speaks so passionately about something.

  Her favorite topic is animals, she loves them, and she would never do anything to hurt them.

  I believe her. I don’t think she could hurt anything with those small hands of hers.

  She’s the purest thing in this shitty town filled with abhorrent criminals that roam around with their eyes on what’s mine. Nora is the only thing that makes me stay in this place. I might have planned to leave this place if she hadn’t shown up with a look of innocence.

  I fixate on the diner and swing the door open. The bell smashes on the door to make the loudest noise that startles the owner. He drops the mop as I scan the diner for any sign of my Nora. She isn’t there, and the lack of customers doesn’t really sit well with me.

  I’m in tune with my surroundings, and if something changes, I will know immediately, and I hate the change that I’m seeing.

  Nora is always behind the counter, serving and laughing with customers. People come to eat and watch Nora lighten up the diner with her beautiful smile and lovely personality.

  I adore her; she can charm everyone with that smile, and even the fellow convicts are smitten with her when they meet her.

  I’m jealous and slightly threatened because she is mine; I don’t want her to smile like that with anyone else. I’m a selfish man who wants her beauty only for myself.

  I want to take her to my apartment and keep her there. I wouldn’t dare to keep her against her will. I know firsthand how it feels to have my freedom taken away. I want Nora to feel safe with me and not feel like she is being suffocated by me.

  She will always have a choice with me.

  “Whoa, hey, are you okay?” the owner sets the mop against a stool.

  I ignore him and stomp towards the door to the kitchen. The owner tries to stop me with a hand on my arm, and I turn with the intention of breaking it. The area he touched has anxiety curling. I don’t like being touched, and it makes me feel like I need to use violence to break away from any grips.

  “Eric?”

  My heart nearly leaps out of my throat when I hear her voice, her sweet and gentle voice calling with concern. I spin towards the kitchen, and the relief overcomes me. I move without thinking as I wrap my arms around her.

  Her surprised squeak is muffled when I squeeze her. Her initial freeze is gone, and she’s melting in my arms as she pats my back. It’s a comforting gesture, and it does wonders for my hammering heart, but she steps back to look up at me.

  I keep my arms around her, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but are you alright?” she asks back as she reaches up to brush my hair away from my eyes.

  The softness of her palm when she rubs her thumb on my cheek and the worry in her eyes snap me back out of my shaken thoughts.

  “Yeah,” I huskily snip out, but I’m not fine.

  This scared me.

  People might think that I’m exaggerating and letting my fear dictate my actions, but they don’t know my past that makes me who I am right now. I can’t shut off that part of my brain that is always thinking of the most negative things. It gets worse when it involves Nora who has been nothing but an angel sent to me.

  “Have you heard?” I whisper in a low voice.

  She cocks her head and drops her hand down to her side, “What happened?”

  “Someone died,” I say with no details.

  I don’t want to scare her. She doesn’t need to hear the gruesome details about the scarecrow. I speculate that it’s a one-time thing, but something in my gut tells me that it’s not and I want to be with Nora all day, making sure she is not a target for whatever fucked up thing the killer is doing.

  Nora gasps, “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “I don’t want you to go home alone tonight.”

  She doesn’t ask any more questions, but she does nod. “Alright, do you mind walking me home tonight?”

  And every night, I mentally correct.

  “I’ll take you home.”

  She smiles appreciatively at me an
d takes my arm to pull me to the stool that is at the end of the counter where it’s closer to the kitchen and the wall. I can be as far away from the door and be conscious of the entire diner with one sweep of an eye; my awareness of the place has doubled as I focus on all the entry points.

  The thunderous roar over the sky is why the summer night gets darker quickly. Soon, rain is splattering on the roof and down the windows in loud smacks.

  I’m feeling too exposed in the diner, and I don’t like it, but I still eat the food that Nora brings me. It’s warm, and it settles my stomach with some weight to stop it from flipping too much.

  She stands in front of me, never an inch out of my sight and I think she’s doing it on purpose to make sure that I’m not storming through the diner to find her again. Nora picks up on the wounded-up muscles, and she gives me a soothing smile. My heart slows because it knows that she’s safe and I won’t let anything happen to her.

  “I’m almost done, just a bit longer?” Nora smiles as she wipes down the counter after she takes my plate and glass away.

  I nod, eyes following every step of the way as she moves from one side of the counter to the next. Then she moves to the tables, wiping them down and bending over to get to the other side of the table.

  My cock thickens, jerking in my loose pants as her round ass rocks to the motions she is making. Even though my body is reacting to my insane attraction to her, I can’t help that my worry trumps over the desire to be in her bed or take her to mine.

  She returns to the kitchen, and I’m one leg off the stool to walk after her when she’s already coming back with her hand reaching behind her to untie the strings. They fall, and she catches them to put them back somewhere underneath the diner counter.

  Nora waves the owner goodnight, and I escort her out. I take the umbrella from her hand to hold it above us as we step outside. The rain pours down, jolting the umbrella with the force that’s coming and I keep it steady over her head.

  My shoulder is soaked from the rain, but she needs more protection from the harsh rain.

  I feel her arm looped around my waist, and she steps closer to me. Her side presses against mine, and I pray she doesn’t feel the problematic rhythm of my heart.