by Jp Barnaby
Table of Contents
Title Page
IN THE ABSENCE OF MONSTERS
For those who live with a Monster of their own, know that you are never alone.
Part One: Jayden’s Story
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Part Two: Ethan’s Story
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Trademark Acknowledgement
JP BARNABY
Also by JP Barnaby
WILDE CITY PRESS
http://www.wildecity.com
In The Absence Of Monsters © 2014 JP Barnaby
Published in the US and Australia by Wilde City Press 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, situations and incidents are the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.
Published by Wilde City Press
ISBN: 978-1-925031-75-1
Design: AngstyG.com
Model: Jake Driver
Copyright: Gio Caruso
IN THE ABSENCE OF MONSTERS
JP Barnaby
For those who live with a Monster of their own, know that you are never alone.
Part One: Jayden’s Story
Chapter One
The Ad: 26 year old SWM seeking disciplined roommate to split 5 BR house. Utilities included. Male pref. Call for appt.
If I had to spend one more fucking night on my sister’s couch, postal would be an understatement. Even though it was my last year in college, the housing admin people delighted in torturing me by sticking me with a nightmare of a roommate. Ian brought girls back to the room, scary ones, at all hours and wasn’t shy about what he did with them. Now, I’m no prude, but I didn’t need to watch him pound some chick while I tried to write a ten-page paper on Valley Forge; both left me rather cold. In the middle of the semester, non-existent housing forced me to my sister’s place. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister. We’d been best friends our whole lives, but hearing her and Josh go at it at all hours of the night hasn’t been fun either, especially since I’m between girlfriends myself. Mr. Hand has been my only source of companionship.
Girls seemed to like my puppy dog eyes, and lean build. The slight Puerto Rican accent didn’t hurt either, so I generally didn’t have a problem finding female companionship. I just had a problem getting them to stick around. The analytical part of my brain, the one farthest from my cock, tried to convince me that I needed to focus on school, keep my head in the game, so I could get into a good grad school. The reasoning felt kind of hollow as I stared up at Kimberly’s ceiling, alone with my chubby every night.
So, when I came across the ad on a campus announcement board, I was thrilled. Would I like to share a five-bedroom house? Hell yes, I would. I snatched up my cell phone and dialed the number on the flyer.
That one phone call changed the entire course of my life.
“Bryant.” A terse voice answered on the second ring.
“Um, hi…I saw your flyer posted on campus and was wondering if you’re still looking for a roommate?” I wanted him to like me so I could stop being intimate with the support bar on Kim’s beat-to-hell sleeper sofa. Good first impressions are everything.
“I am. What is your name?” He sounded less like I had interrupted him with a bill collection call and more like I’d been upgraded to a charity asking for money, or maybe a cousin inviting him to a wedding. Someone you had to talk to, but didn’t necessarily want wasting your time.
“Jayden Carter.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, and tapped my fingers on the psychology book in my lap.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Do you drink, smoke or do any kind of illicit drugs?”
“Occasionally at social functions, no and no,” I replied, switching the phone to my left ear. The questioning went on for a few minutes about my employment status and my post-college plans, which I assumed he wanted to know in order to determine how long I’d be there. It was almost like a job interview. I guess if someone is going to live in your home with you, you’d want to know as much as you could about them. In fact, I’d probably want to know more about the guy in the next bedroom than the guy in the next cubicle. We made arrangements for me to check out the house and he emailed a rental application. I couldn’t imagine that I wouldn’t like it, but I wasn’t too sure about Ethan Bryant.
It didn’t matter though, when I saw the three-story house, words failed me.
The spice-colored brick house, set off by immaculate landscaping, gave the impression of a wealthy family, not a single guy looking for a roommate. Full, dense oaks framed the front porch of the home set with a darker dusky trim. It faintly reminded me of a Norman Rockwell painting, warm and inviting. I fell in love with the place and wanted it to be my home. I’d even stay for grad school just to live in it longer.
The long covered porch had intricate railing and huge wicker chairs. I could see myself sitting in one with my laptop, writing my next great paper. My nervousness grew exponentially as I raised a hand to ring the bell, and prayed I didn’t screw things up. The door opened onto a well-lit foyer where Ethan Bryant stood, framed like a Rembrandt in the doorway.
As he opened the screen door, he ran a hand over his short black hair, almost reluctant to let me in. Nothing in his deep set, unreadable brown eyes welcomed me, but I followed him in anyway. Clearly defined muscles were barely contained under his fitted t-shirt and I was willing to bet he had a lot of company of the female persuasion. Girls seemed to like that brooding, “artsy with a goatee” type and that’s exactly what I saw in him.
“This is the living room. Cable is included in the rent, so is internet,” he said as we passed through the foyer and into a comfortable, masculine room. Large chocolate leather sofas sat against two walls and framed an entertainment center with a state-of-the-art flat panel television with other electronics showcased within the cherry and glass. Small accent lamps, too delicate to have been picked out by a man, sat on unobtrusive side tables.
Moving through the next doorway, he showed me an impressive open-concept kitchen with stainless steel appliances
and granite countertops. I didn’t know much about interior design, but it seemed he’d spared no expense with the house. If he had that kind of money, I wondered why he needed a roommate. The Audi in the driveway, the size of the house, the expensive sweater he wore, all of it showed he wasn’t hurting for money.
My palms started to sweat when he took me to the second floor and showed me the huge bedroom that would be mine, if I played my cards right. I fell in love with the floor-to-ceiling windows. The office, joined to the bedroom by a spacious bathroom, held a desk and several bookcases. All it needed to complete the happy picture was me.
Ethan seemed to be more comfortable talking in person and I found myself starting to like him. As it turned out, he was not a brooding artist, but rather, a shy unassuming doctor. After agreeing on terms, he said he would allow me to move in right away at a prorated rate for the month, which I appreciated. I didn’t want to spend another two weeks with Kimberly and Josh when I could be living in his gorgeous house.
It didn’t take Josh, Ethan, and I more than a couple of trips that weekend to move my little bit of stuff into the rooms upstairs. Josh had been a linebacker at the University of Southern California before coming back to Seattle and meeting Kim. His short black hair was barely visible over the mattress that he was carrying up the stairs. At six foot four, he was formidable, but always had a measure of humor dancing in those brown eyes, which made him a good match for Kimberly. She was pretty high strung and he kept her grounded. I could have done worse for a soon-to-be brother-in-law.
The calm earthy tones, the amount of light that filtered in through the oversized windows, and most of all, the quiet solitude made my new room perfect. It didn’t take very long for me to settle in and within the first few weeks, Ethan and I had established a routine. Ethan worked pretty normal hours for a doctor at a county hospital. I had a more flexible schedule, but occasionally, one of us would cook and invite the other to join. Generally, most nights we kept to ourselves, enjoying the quiet.
It seemed like the perfect match.
One thing stuck in my mind, like a needle digging into the back of my brain. During the tour of the house, Ethan showed me my bedroom and office on the second floor, his bedroom and office were on the third floor. While I loved having so much space, I couldn’t help but wonder about the fifth bedroom at the end of the second floor hallway. When I had asked Ethan about it, he tensed up and mumbled that the room was off-limits. His tone and mannerism left no room for discussion, so I let it drop. Still, I couldn’t escape the feeling that the door grew each time I looked at it. By the end of that first week, it seemed impossibly large. I found myself staring at it before going to bed at night. A dozen possibilities in my head: meth lab, counterfeiting, maybe even a human head on a stick. Ethan appeared to be fairly well-off and I hoped that the money didn’t come from something I couldn’t live with.
My imagination bombarded me questions and scenarios, each wilder than the last, but I didn’t know what to do about my suspicions. I couldn’t talk to Kimberly; she would just barge in and confront Ethan about my concerns—she’s not exactly subtle. She’d get me kicked out of the house I loved just to find out the room was an art studio or something. I wasn’t comfortable enough with Ethan to ask him about it more directly than I had, especially since he’d been nothing but hospitable to me since I moved in. As my imagination caused the door to grow a bit more each day, I kept my bedroom door cracked open, so I could watch for Ethan to enter it.
Then it happened.
On a Wednesday night, about six weeks after I moved in, I saw movement in the hallway. Through my half-open bedroom door, I watched Ethan walk a petite brunette toward the end of the hall. They didn’t interact in any way, but he opened the room and then followed her in. Though it made me feel guilty, I listened intently for a few hours to see if I could get any kind of clue as to what they were doing, but I heard absolutely nothing. I found that odd because, while I could generally hear classical music coming from Ethan’s room on the third floor, I could hear nothing coming from just down the hall. Then it hit me and all of my nervous hesitations came back in full force.
The room was soundproofed.
I never saw Ethan or the girl come out of the room. It must have been well after midnight when they emerged, after I fell asleep. Ethan was sitting at the kitchen table when I came down for breakfast, looking the way he did every morning. Of course, I knew he hadn’t changed in the night, only my perception of him did. Our schedules were opposite that day, and I found the resolve I needed to investigate the room. I convinced myself I only wanted to make sure I wasn’t associated with something illegal without my knowledge. Deep down, was something more, a puzzle that needed to be solved. His reverse psychology worked; by making the room off-limits, I wanted to enter it that much more. Maybe nothing lay beyond that goddamn door, and he wanted to play with me, or test me.
A test I would ultimately fail.
I sat in my room, for two hours after Ethan left for work, trying and failing to study for my abnormal psych midterm. A steady cadence of open me…open me…come look…come look rang through my head and I decided, in the interest of being able to concentrate enough to pass this semester, I had to know one way or the other. If he was doing something that I couldn’t accept, Kimberly would take me back in a heartbeat. It wasn’t an inviting prospect, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and found the determination I needed to stand up from my desk. I would betray Ethan’s trust in me, but I couldn’t just keep ignoring the warning bells ringing in my head. Once in the hallway, I checked over my shoulder like a criminal. When he’d taken the girl into the room the night before, I hadn’t seen him use a key. He didn’t lock it; he trusted me.
With mounting trepidation, I reached the end of the hallway and stopped. I didn’t want to go in there, but couldn’t make myself turn around. I needed to know. The knob turned easily in my hand and I pushed the door open.
Shock filtered through me, a floaty sensation in my stomach, as I looked around the tastefully designed room. Bondage equipment: leather padded tables, chairs and benches were handsomely designed and placed strategically throughout the space. He’d installed an understated audio and video center on one wall with several cabinets that, I assumed, held CDs and DVDs. The opposite wall consisted almost entirely of hooks and shelves where other equipment was stored. Just in a cursory glance, I saw handcuffs, paddles and several candles. A shiver ran through me as I glanced around again. The majesty, the power in this room felt like a physical presence. Trying to ignore my tingle of arousal, I went back into the hall and closed the door with a faintly trembling hand. Since I knew it wasn’t anything illegal, I had to get out of there before Ethan found me.
Making sure to eat early, I hid in my room like a child when Ethan came home, because I couldn’t face him after exposing a private side of Ethan that he never intended for me to discover. To pass the time and try to distract myself, I re-read my essay for Monday. As I polished the citation page, a knock sounded on my door. Ethan had never knocked on my door before.
He knew.
My heart rate shot up as I got up to open the door. Maybe he just wanted to share dinner. I had to get a hold of myself and not jump to conclusions. Taking a deep breath, I answered.
Immediately, my eyes went to his and I knew. A spark shone in his gaze I hadn’t seen before, though his face bore no expression. My eyes fell as the guilt rolled over me and I wished I knew how to make it up to him.
“Follow me,” he said in an even, yet authoritative tone. I had no choice but to let him lead me out of my bedroom. Bubbling panic welled in my chest when he led me toward the end of the hall and into the room. I had not expected to ever go in there again. Walking back to the far wall, he opened the heavy curtains, letting fading sunlight stream into the room and then he stood gazing out over the grounds at the rear of the house. I was edgy and wanted to know why he didn’t
just say something. What was the point in making me wait? Not wanting to risk his ire any more than necessary, I remained quiet and observed him. With strong arms crossed against his chest, he leaned on the wall next to the window and looked almost peaceful. I felt anything but. Finally, he turned around and spoke.
“I asked you specifically not to come into this room,” he said slowly and I nodded. I looked down again, not wanting to see his disapproval. Reaching out tentatively, he lifted my chin with his fingers and looked into my face for an immeasurable period. I don’t know what he found there, but he seemed to come to a decision.
“The surveillance equipment in this room is triggered by the door opening. Thank you for not lying to me, but it seems that you have a choice to make,” he said finally and I looked up. “Only my submissives know of this room. You can either be naked and waiting for me in here Saturday morning at nine or you can be out of the house by the end of the month. I will fully refund your deposits and we will part amicably.” Then he turned and opened the door. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the questions I wanted to ask him. My face must have revealed my shock and terror at his ultimatum, but he said nothing as he passed right by without another glance. I stumbled back up the hall, my legs numb.
My eyes never closed that night and I couldn’t face my Friday class. I stayed in my room contemplating the choice. Again, I didn’t have anyone to discuss it with. Kimberly would be horrified and I couldn’t tell any of my friends that my roommate wanted me to become some kind of boy toy. I didn’t want to leave. In the six weeks that I had lived in the house, it had become my home. Until last night, Ethan had been the perfect roommate and I didn’t want to give that up. As I allowed myself to think about the other choice, the choice where I stayed and became the boy toy, my cock throbbed. Everything in that room scared the hell out of me, but even if I couldn’t really admit it to myself, it turned me on as well. I didn’t understand why. I’d had about a dozen girlfriends in my life. A few of those girlfriends had been adventurous, so I’d played the games: the doctor, the teacher, the cop. I had even tied a couple of them up—but those games were nothing compared to what Ethan suggested. God, I’d never seriously thought about another guy in a sexual way. Of course, I’d peeked a few times in the locker room, but who hadn’t? I didn’t even know if I could do shit with a guy.