by Celia Crown
I smile and breathe the scent of pure masculinity of his neck. The air in the house is damp and slightly musty from how long it’s been sitting and collecting dust.
“Would you do that for me?” I hum softly.
He grunts back, “Anything for you.”
It’s a surprise. I never thought he would be the type to bake.
There is a universal rule: never judge a book by its cover.
Chapter Four
Eric
The knock on the door made my heart jump. I almost crushed Nora to my chest. I quietly apologize to her when I let her up, but my body is still chasing after her warmth when she stands.
I grip her elbow and shake my head, and she tilts her head with an innocently confused face as another knock echoes in the house.
“I’ll get it,” I say as my offer isn’t answered because I’m already making my way to the door.
My hand stops at the doorknob, and my throat swallows the dryness. The unpleasant twisting in my stomach grows stronger like thorns digging into my skin. I find that transferring the unease into the doorknob helps a bit. It elevates the pressure in my heart.
I swing it open after unlocking it, and I come face to face with two town police officers, their uniforms soaked from the rain as I narrow my eyes at them. I have seen them patrolling around town at odd times to make sure that nothing bad is going on, but the fact that two men are trying to come into Nora’s house doesn’t sit well with me.
“Oh, officers, what can I do for you?” Nora pushes my clothes to my chest as she smiles up at me.
I take the hint and step back to let them in while slipping on my clothes.
“Thank you, Miss. Nora,” one of them nods his gratitude while taking his hat off.
They have the decency to stay by the door where there is a mat to absorb the raindrops that are coming off their darkened uniform. The officers clear their throat and get straight down to business. I like it because they aren’t wasting anyone’s time by having small talks.
I doubt they have time when they still have a man strung up in the cornfields the other day.
“I’m sorry for bothering you so early in the morning, ma’am,” the other officer said.
Nora shakes her head, “You’re not interrupting anything, officers.”
The two officers’ eyes look at me and then trail over to Nora, who looks so innocent. I can already tell what wheels are turning in their heads and I’m going to give the town a couple of hours before the gossip starts about me having an affair with Nora.
Well, it’s not like I can be any more unobtrusive by answering the door virtually naked and my movements of putting on clothes aren’t small. I’m a big man, so my actions are bigger than average people. I can lift one finger, and people would assume I was lifting my entire shoulder.
“We’re investigating an incident down the streets. Did you two hear anything last night?” the first officer asks.
I haven’t heard anything during the night. I slept too soundly on the mattress, and it’s odd because I don’t usually sleep through the whole night without waking up a couple of times.
“No, I haven’t heard anything.” Nora smiles apologetically.
I come to stand in front of her, blocking a part of her body from the officers. My body is a shield that I don’t mind using. My protectiveness is endearing to her, and I knew there was a reason why my eyes couldn’t stray away from her the moment I saw her.
“I haven’t either,” I say, shoulders rigid.
Nora extends a hand to my back and rubs softly; my body softens immediately, and I can't help but feel accomplishment for having this effect from her.
“It’s just that—” the second policeman begins, but he was cut off by the one with more rank.
“Officer!”
The second man clears his throat with an apology. The first officer glares briefly towards his comrade who shuts his mouth tightly. They have respect for each other, and I like it.
I’m not a big fan of corruption and abuse of authority. I am many things, and I know my morals aren’t the best when it comes to role models. The part of me that knows what is right and wrong is turned off the moment I am ready to ensure my survival.
Everyone has questionable morals, no matter how much of a saint they are.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the first officer bows his head, “There’s something weird that happened, but I think you should know.”
“Me?” Nora points to herself, bewilderment hitting her pretty face.
The officer nods, “Yes, the victim of the incident is a convict with potential gang ties.”
My reaction is prompt; my muscles are straining through the clenched fists by my side, and I can’t hear myself breathing when I strain my ears.
Nora pats my back slowly, bringing my awareness back to reality as my chest shudders when air enters my lungs. It burns when I exhale, thorns coiling in my throat and it’s scratchy from the sudden closing of my mouth.
“I’m sorry, but what does that have anything to do with me?” Nora cocks her head, eyebrows knotting together.
The word gang hits far too close to home, and I need to know the details whether it has something to do with me or if it’s an unconnected incident where the victim happens to be in a gang that’s formed in the prison nearby.
“Well, Eric here has gang ties,” the second officer says hesitantly, and my glare scares him.
He should be scared because he is disclosing information that should have remained confidential. I never want Nora to find out what I was before and I fear at this moment that she is withdrawing from me.
She doesn’t want to be close to a man with gang ties, but she proves me wrong by wrapping her small arm over my back and hang onto my side with her tiny fingers.
“I can assure you, officers. He was with me the whole night. He couldn’t have done with whatever you are about to accuse him of,” she says, and my heart soars.
The confidence in her voice and something indescribably fatal flow in her eyes, the officers’ instincts are honed into the toxic smile that she has on her face. It’s still very beautiful, and it’s that kind of temptation to kiss her that soothes my roaring heart.
“Though, I am curious,” she hums, blinking those big doe-eyes and the green hues brighten. “What made you think there are any gang ties?”
The first officer sighs, his chest expands while he closes his eyes as if it is a prayer that he is muttering under his breath. I never took anyone in the police station as religious because I have seen them patrol around while some spew out phrases that would offend religious people.
“The man we found had… a snake tattoo going from his elbow to his wrist,” he tells us.
The phantom pain from a tattoo gun stabs in my right arm. It burns with a thousand fire ants biting at me, and I resist the urge to squeeze the pain away. Nora helps with her hands running up and down on my side. It soothes away the littering nips that reminds me of hostile memories that I would rather forget if I can.
“There’s another weird thing too,” the second officer thinks out loud with a thoughtful expression that shoots his gaze up to the ceiling.
The first officer hesitates but decides that he should tell us for whatever reason, but I figure that the more information I have means I can understand if it involves me or not.
The tattoo may be a coincidence; a lot of people have ink of a snake on their arms.
I’m hopeful and praying to whatever deity that will hear me.
“There was a crow in his hand, a dead crow… it’s almost satanic-,” he shudders visibly. I don’t know if it’s from the cold rain on his clothes or he is truly freaked out about it.
“Oh, that’s scary!” Nora gasps with a hand to her lips, “Did you catch the killer?”
The first officer opens his mouth and shuts it. His eyes are narrowed, “How did you know the man was dead?”
Nora tilts her head with wide eyes, “Well, there was the other man who
was at the cornfield. I figure out that incidents like these are rare. I assume that they were connected.”
The officers nod in understanding, and I’m more taken with Nora being oddly calm as if she has had the answer at the tip of her tongue. She is also not one bit afraid for something that has had happened just down the streets, a couple of houses down and it could have been one of us.
She’s too trusting. I can’t let her stay by herself, and I have this feeling that she’ll let the killer in if they knocked.
“The crow…” Nora starts with a grimace, and I hook an arm around her waist to bring her closer.
Her body is lean and small, but it’s not too soft which makes me question if she had never done concentrated workouts in her whole life. She is a waitress, so her body is always on the move; I’m not surprised that she is lean without too many muscles.
It’s hard to build up muscles when all she does is walk around the diner and serve customers.
“It’s so scary,” she says with a shiver.
The officers immediately try to comfort her, “Oh, no, ma’am, it’s probably nothing.”
The second officer stammers out quickly, “The note says the crow is looking for Eve.”
“Eve?” I inquire with confusion coursing through me.
The possibility that it has anything to do with the gang that I had past afflictions with is very low now, the people that I ran with in the past don’t leave messages in notes. The bodies that they dispose of is the message because it’s loud and clear to the recipients and the police department in Chicago.
“Yeah,” the officers say at the same time.
“Have you found Eve?” Nora asks. I detect a hint of tightness in her voice, and the news of another death must be messing with her.
I squeeze her shoulder. She’s more focused on the police officers who shake their heads to answer. They put their hats back onto their head while smiling politely. The rumble of thunder behind the closed door shakes the old windows, and I remind myself to put something against it before it shatters itself from the echoes.
“Words are going to travel in town. Please take care of yourselves,” the first officer opens the door and nods his head as a goodbye while the other one follows behind.
I catch a glimpse of a lightning flash that breaks through the grey skies, taking a round of thunder through the journey while rain falls heavily on the streets. The police car is parked in front of the house, but the officers are walking towards the house beside this one.
I assume that they are going to another house to get more information if they can because two killings in one small town are too suspicious and people will demand answers. They want to be safe, and they won't when there is a killer out there, and it could be anyone’s neighbor.
I shut the door and lock both the doorknob lock and the deadbolt. I don’t plan on going out because there isn’t any work to be done today. It’s the weekend, and it’s raining hell down on Earth. Not a soul is out on the streets in this horrid weather.
The forecast did say that it was going to rain, but no one expected a turnoff event and get stuck at home with torrential rain.
“Come on,” I say softly, taking her back to the couch and she lets me move her as she is in deep thoughts.
The knot in her brows and the thinning of her lips are clear indications, but it’s the cold calculation that reflects in her green eyes, and I couldn’t help the vehement shiver that forces my blood to run cold.
I don’t know what the reason is, but there is something in her eyes that triggers the defensive stance in me to protect myself from her. I should never have to worry about being hurt by her. She would never do that, and I just know it from the bottom of my heart.
A pinch of doubt whispers at me that Nora is more complex than she looks.
She snaps out of her thoughts with a smile, too naïve and too pure compared to the previous serious expression that shook my heart. I never want to see that face ever again. It’s not the Nora I know, and a part of me refuses to admit that her past is still shrouded in mysteries just like mine.
Nora told me her story, but it’s so vague that it makes me wonder if she’s intentionally holding back information.
She laces our hands together, and she brings it up to her lips. The softness of her kiss to my scarred knuckles has fire traveling down to my cock, and it’s straining against my pants.
It throbs painfully, pushing against the zipper as she climbs on my lap to resume the position before we were interrupted. I like this position, I have full control of her, and she fits rightfully in my arms as she smells just as good as she looks.
It’s a poison that seeps into my veins, turning on the addiction that I have for her into an obsession that desolates the cognitive system of my brain. I can stay like this forever; the demons in my head are edging away as Nora pushes her face into my neck.
She beats me to the question that I want to ask, “Are you alright, Eric?”
I love hearing my name from her pink lips; she doesn’t call anyone else by their first names, and I like to think that I am special to her. She speaks my name as if I belong to her and I don’t mind it, she’s mine too, and she knows it to some degree.
This isn’t the behavior of people who aren’t attracted to each other, and the trust we have for each other is stronger than I have with anyone in this town and my whole life.
“I am fine,” I say in her ear.
She doesn’t buy it, “Please don’t keep it to yourself. I know something is wrong.”
Nora sits back with her spine straight as she lets me keep my arms around her back. It’s a comforting gesture that grounds me to reality, so the memories of my past don’t come back in full force.
She cups my cheek, tracing the stubbles that’s grown too long on my jawline. I tend to keep them under wrap; not too long and not too short for people to recognize me if by some chance, another person is from the same part of Chicago as me.
“Tell me, please. I want to help you,” she whispers.
I close my eyes, steading my breathing as my chest heaves. “You can’t, Nora. It’s too dangerous for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
There is understanding in her eyes, “I don't know what danger to be aware of if you keep me in the dark.”
How she is doing it, I’m not sure, but I blurt out my thoughts before I can stop them. It’s as if my mind knows that I need to tell her, lies would destroy what we have, and the unspoken connection between us is too strong to let secrets interfere.
“I was in a gang,” I grimace and it’s already a bad start, but she’s encouraging me with her thumbs trailing on my neck.
She can probably feel the uneven pulses on my skin, and she doesn’t seem to mind the time I need to gather my thoughts and leave her hanging with my words. Nora doesn’t push for answers. She simply waits until I’m ready to tell her.
“Absent father and druggie mother, I was alone, and I wanted a family. I joined the gang and thought they would be my family, but they killed my biological parents after I tried to leave.”
Nora presses her lips to my cheek, and it’s then I realize how tightly I’m grinding down on my teeth, “You don’t have to, Eric. Only when you’re ready.”
I want to. It feels good telling her. It’s as if boulders are lifted up one by one the more I tell her. The meaning behind therapy makes sense now, but I would never spend hundreds of dollars of sessions when I can talk to Nora.
“I did a lot of bad things. I’m not a good man.” I hold her to me and press her face to my neck.
I don’t want her to see the monster that I’m turning into, and I’m not ready to see the fear in her eyes when she hears my story.
“I got arrested many times, been to prison longer than I have spent my childhood playing…” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence because no matter what I say, it can’t be turned into anything good.
“When the officers mentioned the snake tattoo,” Nora mumbles in my
neck.
I hold her waist and focus on the heartbeat aligning with mine, “Yeah, I have one too. It’s under new ink to cover it. I don’t want it to remind me of those times.”
Then I swallow, more memories flashing inside my head as the off-white color on the walls turn nauseating. I press my nose to her hair and breathe, the scent of faint flowers smooth over the lump of my throat.
“I ran away when I had enough money, and I never looked back. I went off as far as I could.” I pinch my eyes shut, willing the memories to leave as I see the corpses of my parents rising from the dead and asking me why I abandoned them.
I was a selfish child, and I am a selfish adult.
I haven’t changed, and I doubt that I will; there is no good left in me to give to Nora. She deserves more than a broken man who can’t even get his life together and give her the life that she deserves.
“You’re here,” she says with another kiss to my cheek. “You’re alive.”
Yes, I am here with her, and I can’t regret any of my choices. Somehow and somewhere they all link to get me here. This is a chance meeting that I don’t know what to feel about. I’m still harboring emotions that wrecked my whole life and the resentment towards the gang that broke apart my life.
I can’t blame the younger me for making those decisions.
I get to meet this lovely girl in my arms, and she is willing to listen to me without judgment, and she is running away from hearing about my involvement with the gang.
Every gang has their hands in drugs, sex, and violence that makes them notorious to the police and residents who live there.
I only fit the criteria for one, and that is violence. I was an angry child, and I needed an outlet. Maybe it’s why I wasn’t cut for the gang. I wasn’t interested in getting addicted to drugs nor was I ever interested in sex.
I was only focused on every ounce of aggression out of me. I hated everything, and everything despised me. It was a mutual tie that fueled the pain in my body from fights and the isolation in prison.
“Thank you for telling me,” Nora whispers and I thank her in return for being the first person I could talk to.