Dark Love: Part Two

by JB Duvane

  When I looked back at the driver he was pursing his lips and gripping the steering wheel. I wanted to ask him about how he became a sociopath. Whether or not he was born that way or if it some sort of childhood trauma. I thought about asking him about abuse and neglect inflicted on him by his negligent parents. Or what he told the women he fucked when they asked him about his career path. But all of those questions hit a little too close to home for me. If I could ask those questions of him what did that say about the person I was, or the choices I had made. I didn’t want to think about any of it.

  In the end I just sat there and watched the sky change to incrementally lighter shades of blue, then yellow, then pink as the sun peeked out over the snow-covered mountains in the distance.

  When the sun was up in the morning sky and the beige desert that surrounded us was fully lit up, I rested my head back and closed my eyes. I had nothing to say to this gangster. He was proof to me that the suit did not make the man. He had made his own choices in life, regardless of his past. He was nothing more than a bag of smelly trash in a two-thousand-dollar garbage bag.

  We had driven throughout the night and were just now coming upon familiar grounds. I knew we were not far from my dad’s trailer and with each passing milepost my stomach grew tighter. I didn’t want to see him now. Part of me hoped that he was already dead, that I wouldn’t have to be faced with any of his insults or the heaviness of his presence. Being in the same room with him always made me feel like I was suffocating.

  Sadly, another part of me was terrified that he would be dead before I got there. I hated myself for being so weak and not being able to just leave him. I didn’t understand it any better than I understood my feelings for Raymond. It made me want to throw up to think that the feelings I had for both of these men were rooted in some deeply fucked up part of my brain. A part of my brain that I didn’t seem to have any control over at all.

  I felt something slam into the car from behind and screamed as my head was jerked violently backward.

  “What the fuck?” I yelled out as I looked over at Stephen. He was gripping the steering wheel even harder than he had been before and was looking in the rear view mirror.

  “Holy shit it’s the Beauchamps!”

  “What? That little old man? How the hell could he—“

  “There’s a lot more of them that just him. Those bastards are all over that goddamned house!”

  “What are they doing out here?”

  “My guess is they’re after you!”

  “Why?!”

  The black car that had just rammed us from behind drove up alongside ours. The windows were completely blacked out so whoever was inside was invisible. They rammed the side of their car into ours, which sent us swerving off the highway and almost into the ditch that ran alongside, but Stephen corrected the wheels so that we got back onto the highway without careening down the steep slope.

  The black car rammed into us again but this time it was with so much force that we went over the edge. I watched as the world rolled around and around in front of me, like we were driving straight through the center of a washing machine. Then everything around me went black.

  3

  Raymond

  Gerald brought a car around and I tore out of the house after Charlotte. I couldn’t believe those asshole Beauchamps. Where the hell did they get off going after her. They had no right to be doing any of this. When I got back that would be the end of them.

  I knew from what Renaud had told me that they wanted me dead and I figured if I followed their goddamned commands and Charlotte agreed to stay that she would be safe. I had no idea they were this messed up. I didn’t know how, but I was going to figure out a way to get rid of them for good.

  The further we traveled, the angrier I got. This wasn't fair. This was my life and just when I felt like I was getting somewhere, when I felt like I had finally found someone to share myself with, these good for nothing servants had to rise up and start making demands and threatening our lives. Where had all of this come from?

  They had their bizarre beliefs and as long as what went on had to do with their voodoo queen’s sacred contract everything was just fine. But as soon as it came to anyone else’s desires we were shit out of luck.

  “You’re bleeding, Raymond.”

  Gerald had been my right hand man for years. Not only that he was my best friend. My only friend. He was the only one I could confide in and the only one I trusted implicitly.

  “Do you think she’ll come back?”

  “Do you want to know what I’d do if I were her or what I think she’s going to do?”

  “Neither, I guess.”

  I gave my heart to her, and I was terrified that everything she said to me was just a lie to get away. I couldn’t blame her though. What I had done was the worse thing you could do to another human being. Put them in a cage. I knew how that felt because I had been a cage my whole life. I didn’t remember a time when I wasn’t surrounded by the dark halls of that goddamned house.

  I had ruined her life and put her in danger and now she was out there somewhere, injured and alone. I felt like nothing, worse than nothing. I was a monster, just like the servants said. I was pathetic, unrealistic and incredibly stupid. She had every right to leave. I should never have tried to keep her there, or tried to convince her to stay. I had nothing to offer her but a crumbling mansion and a hollow heart. She had every right to do what she had to do to get out. If that meant hurting me, then it was fair. I deserved everything she gave me. Even her hatred.

  Gerald handed me his handkerchief and gestured to the side of my head. I held the piece of cloth over an area that felt incredibly tender and when I pulled it away it was covered in blood.

  “That doesn’t look good. We should get you to a hospital in case you have a con—“

  “We’re not going to a hospital until I find her. I’m responsible for everything that has happened to Charlotte and her safety is the number one priority right now.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  We drove in silence for a long time.

  “So do you think what I did was wrong?” I knew the answer, I just wanted a shred of reassurance that I wasn’t as bad as I thought I was.

  “What do you think?”

  “I know what I did was not necessarily right, but I’m not … she’s not … what I mean is …Yes. What I did was wrong. I know it now. But I did it for her.” I ran my hand through my hair in exasperation and wound up poking the bloody wound near my temple. Gerald looked at me like a truant officer that had picked me up at the mall on a school day, but his face softened when he spoke.

  “Look, Raymond. Either she’ll come back or she won't. But if you try to corner her—if you try to force her to come back with you—she'll come back, but she’ll just wind up hating you. Is that what you want? She needs to make her own choice—really make her own choice, without you standing over her—and you need to let go.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Sure you can. You have to learn to let go sometime.”

  “All I know is how to control.”

  “Yeah and look at you. You’re alone, Raymond, and you’re going to stay that way for the rest of your life if you keep this up. No one wants to be hovered over and escorted everywhere. She'd be a prisoner in that house, just like you were.”

  I flinched at those last words. I knew I was doing to her exactly what my mother had done to me. And I knew how horrible it was to be hidden away from the world. I couldn’t do that to her, but I was terrified of losing Charlotte now that I had finally found her.

  I checked on our location as we passed through a forested stretch. We were still a few hours from the trailer. Stephen had said that they crashed a few miles from there. That was almost five hours ago. Anything could have happened to her in that time.

  “Why don’t you lay back and get some sleep. We still have a couple hours ahead of us.”

  “There’s no way I can sleep. Not whil
e she’s out there on the side of the road somewhere.”

  “Chances are she’s not still on the side of the road. She probably walked or hitchhiked back to her home.”

  “That place is not her home.”

  “Raymond.”

  “Okay, I’ll close my eyes.”

  I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to sleep but soon I was wandering through dark corridors that resembled and even darker and more dilapidated version of my house. I could hear Charlotte calling for me and I searched for her desperately, only to keep coming to dead end hallways and empty rooms that were only lit up by the moonlight coming in through the windows.

  The feeling in the dream was horrible. Complete loss of control in what appeared to be my own house, which was only fitting considering what had been going on there over the last few weeks.

  I woke up from my fitful dream as I felt the car come to a stop. I had fallen asleep after all. Gerald had pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the ignition.

  “Where are we?” I asked as I bolted up in my seat. We were in the middle of the desert but the shoulder of the highway fell down abruptly into a steep, rocky gully.

  “The GPS tracker I have on Stephen’s phone shows that he’s down there somewhere.” Gerald pointed in the direction of the rocks and shrubs that jutted out just as the shoulder of the road gave way to nothing.

  I jumped out of the car and ran to the edge of the road, and there at the bottom—about thirty feet down—I saw my black Cadillac sitting upside down on its hood. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s messed with it. No tow truck or anything.”

  “I’m guessing that no one witnessed the accident. You can’t see the car from the highway unless you’re on the shoulder so no one’s even called the highway patrol.”

  “I don’t think she’s down there, Raymond,” Gerard said as he grabbed my arm and held me back from running down the dangerously steep slope. “The passenger side door is open.”

  “It could have happened when the car was rolling. She could be in there, Gerald!”

  “No, look. The trunk is open and a suitcase is sitting next to the car. It doesn’t look like it was thrown out. It looks like it was taken out and opened up. I’m willing to bet she changed into something she could hike in. Was she wearing a dress when she left the house?”

  “Yes, a green dress and some pumps.”

  “I’d be willing to bet that’s what she did. That girl isn’t stupid enough to go wandering off into the desert in heels.”

  “But she could be anywhere! And she could be injured. I’ll never forgive myself if she’s dead.”

  “We’ll find her, Raymond. I promise you that. Let’s head to her father’s trailer. She has an eight hour head start on us so she’s bound to have made it there by now.”

  As we got back in the car I heard Gerald making arrangements with one of my men to have the car and Stephen taken care of.

  “I want your foot pressed down on that accelerator, Gerald.”

  Before I brought Charlotte to the house, I’d had cameras placed in various places around the trailer and I’d had one of my men break in and grab some of her belongings. I knew how she lived, but I had never felt the magnitude of it until I actually saw the trailer for myself. It was hidden behind a row of desert bushes where a clothesline had been attached. The line still held some heavily stained t-shirts and men’s underwear. I tried not to picture her washing her father’s filthy clothes by hand and hanging them out on that crooked clothesline. It was too depressing to even fathom.

  What bothered me the most about it was the degradation. She was a fiery, independent woman who had been forced to grow up in this small, squalid space with an abusive father who kept her prisoner here through guilt. I could give her so much more than this, but I had to admit to myself now that I was no better than him. Because of the way I went about bringing her to me I had turned my house into her prison as well.

  “It doesn't look like anyone is in there,” Gerald said as we approached the trailer.

  “No cars. She could be inside.”

  “No lights, though.”

  “They rely on a gas-powered generator,” I said, trying to see if I could detect any movement through the grimy windows. “I’m sure that bastard wouldn't have had a way to keep it going, and by now it's definitely empty. I don’t hear anything running.”

  I stepped up onto a rickety wooden porch and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

  “Allow me,” Gerald said. He pulled my arm back and stood in front of me, then kicked the flimsy aluminum door in with his foot.

  “I could have done that with my hand. I don’t think the door was even locked.”

  “Eh, what else am I gonna do here.”

  I stepped inside and caught the smell of death immediately. I called Charlotte’s name but there was no answer.

  “What the hell? You know what that smells like?” Gerald's muffled voice was right behind me. I turned and saw that he was covering his mouth with a handkerchief. We had both smelled that unforgettable scent of decaying flesh before.

  I waded through the pile of trash toward the back of the trailer to see if Charlotte or her father were there. There was no sign of anyone. I looked through the few rooms that were accessed from the single hallway and stopped when I came to a bedroom that was obviously hers. It was the only room in the trailer that wasn’t littered with garbage. Some of her clothes were still hanging in the closet. There were old band posters taped to the walls and stacks of art books on some shelves in the corner.

  I could smell her in that small room, even over the incredible stench that filled the rest of the trailer. She had made her own place in this hell hole. A beautiful flower struggling to grow in a garbage dump. I walked over to the closet and ran my hands over some of the clothes she had left behind. I wanted to touch her so badly. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and protect her from all of the horror and degradation in the world. But that would mean that I would also have to protect her from myself.

  I hated myself for what I had done.

  “She's not here.” Gerald walked up behind me while I let a feather boa slide through my hand.

  I felt like I was invading her space somehow, even though this room was filled with things that she had left behind. But I needed to be in that room for a little while longer. If I never saw her again I wanted to remember exactly what she was like. What it felt like to touch something that belonged to her.

  “We’re going to find her, Raymond.”

  “Where’s the closest hospital?”

  Gerald pulled out his phone. “Stafford.”

  “Let’s go.”

  4

  Charlotte

  After the car was forced off the highway and rolled down into the rocky gully, I made my way to the trailer. The driver had been thrown from the car and I wasn’t about to go looking for him. I managed to pop the trunk and grab some decent clothes and a bottle of water, then headed off in the desert heat.

  I don’t know how long I walked with the sun beating down on me but I know it was hours. I stayed off the highway, keeping to the scrub brush covered desert and the occasional rock formations. I didn’t want whoever ran me off the road to catch up with me and plow me down on this stretch of relatively deserted highway. I hoped that they were long gone by now, but I had to try to be safe and stay hidden.

  The longer the sun beat down on me the more exhausted I became and I was terrified of having to see my father all alone. But I kept pushing forward because I had no choice. If I died out here in the desert then this whole thing would have been for no reason. Although I still didn’t understand why I was doing any of this.

  When I left Raymond’s house I was desperate to get to him and make sure that he was okay, but now I had a bad feeling that I had made the wrong decision. Apparently some lunatics were after me and I was out here trying to help someone who never wanted my help to begin with.

  The minute I got within sight of the
trailer I knew he was in trouble. The generator wasn’t running and the front door was wide open. I tried to hurry but after walking through the desert for hours I felt like I was about to collapse.

  I got out of the brutal sun that had been beating down on me and found my father exactly as I had seen him in my vision. His skin was gray and clammy. He was sweating and the stench coming off his body told me that his system was beginning to shutdown. He had no shoes on and his feet were bluish-grey. They both looked like they were rotting right on his body.

  “No!” I ducked down and shook him. “Wake up!”

  Nothing. I slapped him in the face. “Wake up!”

  I sat there on my knees, hovering over the man who had beaten me and belittled me and blamed me for my mother’s death, and I was astonished when I realized that tears were running down my cheeks. “I need you, Daddy.”

  But just as the words came out of my mouth and I heard them out loud, I knew it wasn’t true. It wasn’t the lump of flesh on the floor in front of me that I needed or wanted. It wasn’t the pathetic excuse for a man that was laying in his own filth in front of me. What I had been desperate for all these years was approval and love and I had been trying to get those things out of someone who didn’t have them to give me.

  But still I couldn’t just let him die. Regardless of how he treated me he wasn't going to become a wasted memory. He was my father, and regardless of his bad choices and selfishness he deserved another chance.

  We were out in the middle of nowhere and I had no car or phone on me. My purse had gone flying during the car crash and I hadn’t been able to find it. I knew it was up to me to do something. I had come this far and I had to at least try.

  I sat up and slammed my hands against his chest. “Come on, Dad. Let's go!” I slammed his chest again and could have sworn I felt something snap underneath my hands. It could have been his rib but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I did chest compressions for a full minute, then checked for a pulse. It was faint but at least it was there.