What Hides Within

by Jason Parent

  “I’m just saying—”

  “What’s it to you, anyway?” Kevin slapped the couch and stood. “I still pay my half of the rent, don’t I?”

  Clive hesitated, giving Kevin a minute to catch his breath and potentially calm down. “I’m just saying, if you need somebody to talk to—”

  “Oh, please! Since when did you give a damn? What’s with the sudden urge to bond? Here’s an idea. You keep to your shit, and I’ll keep to mine.”

  With that, Kevin staggered back to his room. Clive could hear him lock the door. He always locked the door behind him. Still, Clive followed Kevin’s suggestion, outwardly at least. As far as Kevin would know, Clive would keep to his own affairs.

  Inside, however, Clive had come to a different conclusion. He resigned himself to following Detective Reilly’s suggestion. He’d keep tabs on Kevin. He’d get into Kevin’s room somehow, even if it meant “borrowing” and copying Kevin’s key. The goal was to do it undetected. If Kevin was who Reilly claimed him to be, Clive’s invasions into his privacy could be explosive.

  CHAPTER 23

  C live rolled his eyes. “Chili’s again, Morgan?”

  “It was an easy place for everyone to meet!”

  “I’m just kidding. You didn’t have to do all this.”

  Clive smiled sheepishly, embarrassed by the attention. Morgan had thrown him a surprise party and gathered all his friends and some strangers. Who is this Carrie girl? And she had done it because she cared about him. Not Derek. Him.

  “Derek helped.” She grabbed Clive by the arm and led him from the entrance into the party.

  “Yep, me and Morgan spent a lot of quality time together, didn’t we, honey?” Derek said, putting his arm around her shoulder. Although she groaned, Morgan didn’t remove it.

  “How did you get all these people?”

  “Derek called your work. He did a great job at compiling a list, I must admit.”

  “All in a day’s work,” Derek said.

  “Your brother wanted to come too,” Morgan added. “He had to stay home with Rachel. We originally planned a paintball outing, but with your head the way it is… well, we can plan that for an upcoming weekend.”

  “Yeah!” Clive looked at her, excited. “That would be awesome.”

  “Hey, stranger!” a voice called out from behind Morgan.

  “Connie!”

  Clive felt himself beaming. Forget paintball. The object of his lust had finally arrived. “I’m so glad you could make it,” he said, opening his arms for a hug, then cringed, fearing his excitement came out too strongly. After all, Morgan was watching, and he held Connie inordinately close for someone who was “just a friend.”

  Tonight’s the night you get her, Clive, Chester coached. All you have to do is follow my lead. You could start by offering the lady a drink.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  Connie waved her finger inches from Clive’s face, ending with a playful tap on his nose. “No, no, Clive. This party is all about you. You’re not supposed to pay for your drinks.”

  “Oh, so now we have to pay for all his drinks too?” Derek’s protest was met with Morgan’s elbow careening into his potbelly. Derek groaned, the hit appearing beyond the realm of playfulness. What’s her problem? Clive wondered, starting to feel guilty but not enough to leave Connie’s side.

  “Come on.” Connie wrapped her arm around Clive’s, pulling him away from Morgan and ushering him to the bar. “The first few rounds are on me.” The two turned to leave without so much as extending Morgan an invitation.

  As Connie dragged him away, he heard Morgan’s stern voice say, “Let’s go, Derek. Let those two get their drinks. You start getting mine, and you got yourself a date for the night.” Clive had a feeling he was meant to hear that. The thought of Derek’s grubby hands on Morgan disgusted him, but he had more important business to attend to.

  Half an hour passed by without notice. The alcohol consumption added up at an alarming rate. Clive spent his time at the bar with Connie, encouraging her advances and downing unrecognizable drinks. He was having a blast getting blasted.

  “What the hell is this?” Clive stared down at the gold liquid that somehow separated itself into a clearly defined layer over an equal mass of colorless liquid. Three red splatters trickled like blood from the surface of the glass to its bottom.

  He leaned back on his stool as if examining it from another angle would somehow reveal its mysteries. The drink sat on the bar top, everything about it menacing.

  “Are you even supposed to be drinking?” Connie asked.

  “A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

  “Well, then, are you going to study it all night, or are you going to drink it?”

  Clive glanced at Connie. She was beautiful in her work clothes, but outside of work, she looked better than a supermodel. Yet, for reasons not comprehended by Clive, she stood at that bar by his side, just the two of them. Why did she waste her time with a nobody like him? Unless Chester was right. Nah.

  Four shots down, and Clive was feeling frisky. As difficult as it was to remove his gaze from Connie, he forced his gaze back onto his drink. It smelled like turpentine, motor oil, and a hint of black licorice. Sambuca. The smell reminded him of his college years. The odor of the top alcohol was masked, but its appearance suggested Jose Cuervo. The red spots were the biggest mystery. Clive drew in a heavy sniff, his nose directly over the shot glass. Mystery solved.

  “Is that Tabasco?” Clive cringed. He curled his nose up into a pig face.

  “Hey, you said you wanted to do shots. You can pick the next one, but this one is my choice.” Connie scanned the restaurant. After a few seconds, she seemed to find what she was looking for. She returned to the shot in front of her and downed it with a violent backward snap of her neck. She didn’t wait for Clive to salute but slammed the empty glass down on the bar as if to say, That’s how it’s done.

  “I’m going to the little girl’s room,” she said. “By the time I get back, I expect you to man up, down that thing, and have the next shot ready and waiting for me.”

  Connie leaned in and gently kissed Clive’s cheek. His face went varying degrees of hot, and before he could gather his thoughts and respond, she was gone. In retrospect, he imagined that it was probably a good thing since all that came out of his mouth when she kissed him was a dumb-sounding stammer.

  Real smooth, Clive.

  “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Chester,” Clive muttered. By that point, he was beginning to realize that his conversations with Chester made him look foolish to the outside world, as though he were talking to himself. He tried to keep their public conversations to a minimum.

  I told you that you could get that. All you needed was a little more confidence.

  “I haven’t gotten her yet, and if by ‘confidence’ you mean ‘beer muscles,’ I think I still need more alcoholic steroids. Besides, what about Morgan?”

  I thought you didn’t care about her in that way.

  “I don’t. It’s just… in plain view? It doesn’t seem right, knowing she’s watching me. Did you see that look she gave me earlier? Plus, don’t you think Connie might find it a little weird that I sometimes sleep with my best friend, a best friend that happens to be no more than twenty feet away?”

  Morgan seems to be doing fine without you. She and Derek are having a wonderful time. The alcohol is eliminating their inhibitions.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Clive spun around on his stool and waved to all the partygoers whom he was neglecting. He saw Derek’s arm around Morgan. Morgan was laughing, apparently having a great time. Was she just trying to make him jealous? Clive couldn’t believe Morgan could actually have feelings for Derek.

  At least, he didn’t want to believe it. But evidence to the contrary was piling up. He saw his two best friends cuddling arm in arm in a booth, enjoying one another’s company. It did make him jealous. If that was Morgan’s goal, she�
�d tragically succeeded.

  “Fuck her,” Clive proclaimed, returning to his drink.

  Forget Morgan. Connie’s going to be back soon. Quit being a bitch and drink up. She’s all over you.

  Clive stroked the shot glass, stalling the inevitable. It was never in question that he was going to drink the shot. But it wasn’t because Chester wanted him to or even because he wanted to. It was because Connie wanted him to. He would do anything she asked. And with Morgan all over his sleazebag friend, he needed no further provocation.

  He second-glanced at the booth behind him. Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Derek. They probably left together, he abruptly concluded. The assumption made him angry, frustrated, and sad, even though the person he thought he wanted was pissing nearby. The girl of his dreams was well within his grasp. Soon, Connie would return from the restroom. He hoped she wasn’t too drunk to remember to put paper over the seat.

  Without further hesitation, Clive threw back the shot of liquid poison. He held back a hearty belch for fear vomit would come up with it. After a moment, the alcohol settled. He wiped away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

  There you go, Chester said. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?

  “Actually, it tasted like someone pissed fire down my throat.”

  “What’s that?” a well-bosomed bartender barely old enough to drink called out over the bad eighties music. “You need something else, honey?”

  “Umm, yeah. Could I get two shots of Jäger, please?”

  That’s my boy, Chester encouraged. What’s one more shot going to do, anyway?

  As Connie staggered back to the bar, she slumped in close to Clive. Resting her hand on his thigh, she stared at him with a tooth biting into her lip. It excited Clive to no small degree, although he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened on her bathroom trip that had awakened such sudden and apparent sexuality.

  Clive raised his shot glass—filled to the brim with Jägermeister—into the air. With a clinking of glasses about as delicate as two inebriated individuals could make, two more shots disappeared. They ordered another, which was followed by three more. With each drink, Clive moved in closer to Connie until her hips were pressed tight against his inner thighs. His hands hung loosely around her waist, daring to explore. Their inhibitions disappeared with the alcohol in their glasses. Her companionship was his for the taking.

  CHAPTER 24

  A nother morning, another migraine. And that wasn’t the worst of it.

  “I did what?” Clive couldn’t believe the news Chester was throwing on him. It couldn’t be true. Sure, he couldn’t remember last night. But how could things have gone that wrong?

  You fucked the hell out of her.

  “And you just watched, let it happen?”

  Hey! Don’t put the blame on me for this. You were so drunk there was nothing I could do to dissuade you. But yep, I watched. Chester laughed. It was like a train wreck. I couldn’t turn away.

  “No way. It didn’t happen. This is just a sick joke.”

  It’s no joke, amigo. You had everything going as planned. I fulfilled my promise to you. Connie was happily cradled in your arms, albeit entirely shitfaced and unconscious, but cradled in your arms nonetheless. It’s not my fault you somehow grew a conscience and called her a cab. And after she left, you decided to keep drinking. I can’t even imagine how much money you spent. You even bought drinks for random people at the bar. You’re lucky Judith picked up some of the tab.

  “You… you kept your promise? You know damn well that’s not what we intended. And how did Judith even get there in the first place? Everybody knows I hate her. I can’t imagine Derek and Morgan inviting her. Everybody at work hates her too. They wouldn’t invite her either.”

  Well, at least your coworkers left before you starting shoving your tongue down Judith’s throat.

  “I made out with her at the bar?”

  Yep, but that wasn’t the worst place you stuck your tongue last night.

  Clive cringed. “Please, spare me the details. Just tell me I used a jimmy cap.”

  I think the first time you did. At least that should have gotten rid of most of the baby batter. But you were a bit free with spilling your seed, Clive. I didn’t know you were such a stud.

  Clive searched for the silver lining in this major fuckup. “At least no one was there to see it.”

  Well—

  “Well what?”

  That’s not entirely true. Felix was still there, hitting on some barely legal college girls, if they were even legal. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention.

  “Oh God! Felix? Everyone’s going to know about it. I better give him a call.”

  Maybe you should be more concerned about Morgan. Who knows what diseases Derek gave her last night.

  “That’s right…” Clive sighed. “They left together.”

  And I know you saw the two of them all over each other.

  “Morgan would never be so stupid as to sleep with him. What’s your problem with those two, anyway?”

  Me? I have no problem with them. If you’re okay with your best friend banging your girlfriend, then so am I.

  “She’s not my…” Clive cut himself off with a growl. He was quick to protest but also quick to realize that it was a battle not worth fighting. He let the girlfriend comment slide and focused on the real issue. “They were planning a surprise party.”

  You think they needed to meet all those times just to plan a night out drinking at Chili’s?

  “Have you met Derek? He isn’t exactly party-planning material.” But Clive knew Morgan was always practical, direct, and efficient. She could have planned the entire night alone in less time than it took Derek to tie his shoes. At best, he was a hindrance. Why did she even include him? Could there actually be something between them?

  “No.” He shook it off. “They were planning the paintball party next weekend.”

  How hard is it to call a place and book it?

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s got something else planned.”

  Yeah, children with Derek. You missed your window, buddy. It’s not like you didn’t have years to seal that deal. You can’t tell me you don’t love her. I’m in your head. I know it better than you do. Chester squawked, following it up with her usual unpleasant laugh.

  But I can see you need proof, she continued. Why don’t we go by her house tonight around eight o’clock? You’ll see then that I’m telling you the truth.

  “Spy on Morgan? Is that what you’re suggesting?” The idea was absurd, but he had to know the truth. He had to know if she had betrayed him.

  “Okay. I’m in.”

  Clive sat alone in his car. At least, to the casual observer he appeared alone. But he was never alone anymore. Chester was always with him. Always. And for how long, Clive couldn’t know.

  “He’s not here,” Clive said aloud. He was growing more and more aggravated but not so much at Chester for tricking him into spying on his best friends, preying upon his insecurities. Rather, he was angry with himself for being so easily duped, for giving in to his insecurities and, most of all, for believing a hideous talking bug over the assurances of his closest confidant.

  Still, he had Chester to thank for one thing. She’d opened his eyes to his true feelings for Morgan. Clive had always known he loved her, but now he knew it was much more than platonic. The fact that he could no longer have her, the fact that she was now involved with a lesser man, made him jealous and resentful. It made him want her more.

  He gritted his teeth. Licking his lips, he longed for the curvature of her body pressed tight against his. The insurgence of his lust felt unbearable, uncontrollable. He had to have her, and now was as good a time as any. He got out of his car.

  A screech of tires, and Derek’s Accent rounded the corner, rapidly approaching from the top of Morgan’s street. Clive jumped back into his car. He slammed the door shut behind him. Did he see me?

  The wonder faded quickly, replac
ed by his swelling jealousy. He slinked down in his tattered bucket seat, his eyes peeking out over the steering wheel.

  Right on schedule, the previously silent Chester said.

  “How? How did you know he’d come?”

  I pay attention, Clive. I read the obvious signs that blared in front of you last night.

  Clive wasn’t convinced. Derek was half the man Clive was, and Clive wasn’t much of a man himself. His lust made him angry and confused. Love is blind, he thought, but one would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to see what Derek’s all about. Only a few hours earlier, he hadn’t even been sure he had feelings for Morgan. He’d been blind to his own love, but now he saw clearly. His insecurity made him feel dirty, hypocritical. He didn’t care. He still wanted her.

  Morgan deserves better, he thought. She deserves me.

  Derek pulled into Morgan’s driveway. Clive watched from a mere thirty feet away, his car sticking out like a rhinoceros in a living room. Yet somehow, Derek didn’t seem to notice. How could he miss the familiar piece-of-shit Escort Clive had driven for the past four years? Maybe he had something else on his mind. Maybe his thoughts matched Clive’s. Maybe, just maybe, thoughts of Morgan’s touch consumed him. The speculation intensified Clive’s fury.

  Derek went about his usual premating routine. He splashed cheap cologne on his neck. He doused himself so liberally that it made Clive’s stomach gurgle.

  Fucking sleazebag. I could kill him.

  Derek reached into his glove box. Clive couldn’t make out what Derek had retrieved from it until Derek stepped out of his car and, holding the corners of the objects, flicked them against his palm. With a grotesque grin on his comely mug, he shoved the objects into his pocket.

  “Were those condoms?”

  They sure as hell weren’t chewing gum. Chester’s sarcasm was never subtle. Still need more proof?

  “I’ll kill that motherfucker. I’ll kill them both!”

  Clive stared, mouth agape, as Morgan opened the door for Derek. When Derek reached the top step, Morgan leaned in close to him. Too close. With Derek’s back to him, blocking his view of Morgan’s sweet lips, Clive couldn’t be sure where she was placing them. When she pulled away, Clive could see her smile and mouth something. Derek responded with a smile of his own. The two retreated into the confines of Morgan’s home and, Clive imagined, into the warmth of her bed.