Extra Credit: Ms. Brooke (Taboo Erotica)

by Anya Merchant

  “Uh, excuse me?” John was a little taken aback by the man’s bluntness, and could hear the quick footsteps of his mother approaching from behind him. “My name is John Ludling.”

  The man pulled a photo out of his pocket, stared at it for a moment, and then looked at John over the top of his sun glasses.

  “Are you the grandson of Marcus van Ludling?” asked the man. John opened his mouth to answer, but felt his mom’s arm wrap around him and pull him away from the door before he could.

  “You have the wrong person!” shouted Natalie. She slammed the door closed and then leaned against it. John felt confusion begin to fog over his mind as he stared at her and tried to piece together what was going on.

  “Mom, I think he’s looking for me, or at least someone with a similar name,” said John. “We should at least-“

  “No!” Natalie spoke loudly, in her most protective, motherly voice. “He must be looking for someone else.”

  “Natalie van Ludling?” The man outside knocked at the door again, and John saw a look of fear and frustration on his mom’s face that made him feel even more confused. “We’re here in regards to your father and the future of his estate.”

  Natalie’s expression softened, and after a moment, she stepped away from the door. John reached his arms out and pulled her into a hug, and the man outside took the opportunity to reopen the door, politely sticking his head in through the crack.

  “Sir and madam, if I can just have a minute of both of your time?”

  John felt his mom tighten her arms around him, hugging him even more closely. He was a little embarrassed by how vividly he could feel his mom’s breasts pressed against his chest, and tried not to think too much about it.

  “You have one minute to explain yourself,” said Natalie. “And then I expect you to leave here and never come back. Understood?”

  The man was clearly well trained and used to following instructions to the very word. He nodded, and then immediately launched into delivering the message that he had been entrusted with.

  “As I’m sure you know, your father, Marcus van Ludling, has passed away.” The man paused, and John watched as his mom blinked several times in quick, bewildering succession. It was clear from the man’s face that he wasn’t expecting her reaction, and his throat was stricken with a dumb silence that made it readily apparent that comforting emotionally affected women was not part of his job description.

  “Mom, are you okay?” John held onto her shoulder, and tried to read his mom’s eyes. There was a trace of sorrow deep within the depths of her pupils, but it was intentionally obscured, and she was hard at work blinking back unwelcome tears.

  “I’m fine, sweetie.” Natalie forced a smile, and rubbed her hand along her son’s back. “There’s a reason why you’ve never met your grandfather, and it’s because he was never supposed to be a part of our lives.”

  The man waiting on the doorstep coughed, and John glanced back over at him. His mannerisms were those of a polite, unobtrusive servant, but it was clear that he didn’t intend to leave until he’d delivered the message entrusted to him.

  “Count van Ludling left a will. It names his grandson, John van Ludling, as his successor and the new heir to the Ludling estate on Blackthorn Isle.”

  Natalie began shaking her head back and forth with deliberate force. She dug her fingers into John’s shoulder and pulled him closer to her.

  “No, no no!” Her voice was loud, and full of emotion. “That’s not possible! I haven’t had any contact with my father for 18 years. He had no idea that John even existed.”

  The man in the suit pulled a letter from his inside jacket pocket and held it out, as if handing over a royal decree to an esteemed noble. John looked at his mom, and then slowly took it from the man’s hand after seeing that she wasn’t going to.

  “Mom…” John glanced at her after skimming through the message. “It’s all here. I think we should at least consider-“

  “No!” Natalie’s grip on John’s shoulder grew painfully tight, and only lessened after he winced visibly. “John, I left Blackthorn Island for a reason. Living under my father, my pretentious, snooty father, it was like living in a prison!”

  “Mom, he’s dead…” John looked at her, and appealed to the faint glimmer of sorrow in her eyes that she was refusing to acknowledge. “We should at least head out for his funeral, shouldn’t we?”

  The man in the suit let out an awkward cough.

  “The funeral was a couple of months ago,” he said. “We’ve been looking for you for a while. Other than his accidental discovery of John’s existence, the Count was remarkably tolerant and understanding of your desire to live a life separate from Blackthorn Isle, Natalie.”

  John’s mom didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, she crossed her arms and looked at the man on their doorstep sternly.

  “If he was so tolerant and understanding of my mindset, then there is no need for us to be having this discussion, is there?” She set her hand on the door, and made as though to start closing it. “My son and I will be getting on with our lives as though this never happened, if you’ll excuse us.”

  The man in the suit stepped forward and put his foot into the door frame. John could see the unbridled, protective ferocity in his mother’s expression, and began to fear that she might hit him if he kept at it.

  “I’m not here to deliver the message to you, Natalie.” Even though the words were a rebuke in their content, the man delivered him in a voice that was gentle and submissive. “John is 18, and Count van Ludling named him as his successor. The former Count van Ludling, I mean.”

  It took John a second to understand and fully process what the man was saying. He looked at his mom, and saw that she was staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

  “Hold on, I’m… his successor?” John looked at the man, who nodded and then glanced at his feet.

  A moment went by without anyone saying anything. John’s mind raced ahead, deep into unknown territory. He didn’t know anything about his grandfather, or Blackthorn Isle, or even about why his mom had kept it secret from him. But he wanted to, and he realized that the only way to go about doing that was standing right in front of him.

  “Mom, we don’t really have a choice.” John looked at her with the pleading eyes of a son begging his mother for a favor. “We need to at least hear him out.”

  “John, he’s going to try to take us back to the island!” His mom sounded worried, more worried than John had ever heard her before. “There’s always another layer when it comes to my father! You don’t understand just how complicated all of this is… John, he was a man of means.”

  John glanced over at the man in the suit, who smiled at him and nodded his head.

  “We should probably speak about the finances of the former count in a more appropriate setting, but suffice to say, he left you enough money to ensure that you and anyone you care about will never have to work again.”

  John wrinkled his forehead, and offered his mom one last, apologetic look.

  “Let’s just make the trip out to the estate and figure out what to do with it,” he said. “That doesn’t mean we’re giving up our old lives, or that anything has to change, mom.”

  John wasn’t sure if the words were true or not even as he spoke them, and from the look on his mother’s face, it was clear that the feeling was mutual.

  Illicit Inheritance by Anya Merchant