What She Doesn't Know

by Tina Wainscott

  After maneuvering the slippery sheath over him, she let her body swallow him, feeling a tickle in the pit of her stomach. He took her hands and placed them on his chest. From there, some other part of her took over. She gave herself up to the rhythm, not thinking about anything but the way her insides felt with each thrust, building the fire until it overpowered her.

  She wanted to feel him, skin against skin, sweat to sweat, wanted to sink into his body, drown in his blood, breathe his breaths. She wanted it all, sunlight, darkness, the joy and sorrow, every emotion and sensation. She wanted to be a vixen, an innocent, and his mother, to take him into her arms and soothe away all his hurts. She wanted to be his little girl, to crawl into his arms and hide there forever.

  She was burning up, damp with perspiration. When she felt him release, that bonfire burst and sent heat shooting into every vein in her body. She said his name, once and then two more times to make sure he had no doubts: she was making love to him—not a substitute for Brian.

  As her body went slack, he pulled her down to lie on top of him. She rose and fell in the same rhythm as his breathing, her cheek pressed against his skin, his hand pressing down on the small of her back. From her position, she couldn’t see his face. Maybe she didn’t want to, didn’t want to see that this had meant nothing to him. She had tasted real intimacy for the first time. Not just physical or emotional, but a tangle of both. She didn’t want him to see that written all over her face, either. She had fully opened herself to him, and her nose hadn’t bled. She had overcome that problem, but at what cost?

  She thought that he might have fallen asleep. One of the things she had learned about men was that after sex, their bodies produced a chemical that made them sleepy. And in a twisted biological irony, women’s bodies produced a chemical that made them fully awake afterward. As if PMS wasn’t enough. She leaned up on her arms and found him staring at the ceiling.

  His gaze shifted to her and she saw something she never thought she’d see in his eyes: tenderness. He reached out and touched her cheek. “You all right?”

  She nodded, though all right was hardly the word she would have used. “You?”

  He smiled. “F’sure.”

  She leaned against her hand. “You did everything you could to scare me off.”

  “Mmhm.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t a liar. “Now what?”

  She felt his hand stiffen. Shadows swallowed the tenderness, making her wonder if she’d imagined it.

  “This doesn’t change anything.”

  “This changes everything. Don’t move away from me now. Something happened between us. Let’s just sit on it for a while.”

  But he did pull away, leaving her feeling empty inside. He got to his feet. “We acted on our hormones, that’s all. Now it’s out of our systems.”

  She started to feel vulnerable and naked, but she fought it. “So this was only…”

  “Sex.”

  She hated that word, hated it so much she grabbed up her clothes and walked to the bathroom. She had felt something from him, too. Had it only been Mardi Gras magic? He told her he never said anything he didn’t mean. The only hope she harbored was that he didn’t like the way he was. She’d heard the lie in his voice despite his impassive expression.

  That’s a lot to pin your hopes on, a lot to stake your heart on. Are you sure you’re up to it?

  Christopher used the bathroom in Brian’s bedroom to wash up and get back into his sweats. He took his time returning to his room. Like a smoker, he reached for his pack of gum and popped a piece in his mouth.

  Rita was still in the bathroom, so he opened the French doors and walked out onto the gallery. Balcony, he reminded himself. He wasn’t part of this place anymore.

  No, but this place is still part of you. He wrapped his fingers over the railing and breathed in the cool air, let it wash over his damp skin. He could hear the sounds of a party in the distance. Then he heard her open the bathroom door. He hoped she hated him. It would make things easier. But he hadn’t been entirely truthful with her.

  It had been sex, plain out. The way he’d felt, that had been different. He’d seen the uncertainty in her eyes turn to strength. He’d wanted her to back down, but he’d also just wanted her.

  The worst part was when he’d climaxed, and then felt her tighten around him as her body stiffened with her climax. For that moment, he wanted to hold onto her, to give her everything he had, more than he had.

  For that one moment, his eyes had watered.

  Thankfully she hadn’t looked at him right away. He didn’t know what his face had shown, but he sure hadn’t wanted her to see that. He’d never had anything like that assail him after sex, or ever. What was wrong with him? Was he so messed up that he couldn’t even enjoy sex anymore? All he felt was this mysterious ache. He didn’t want to kid her or himself. It would never work. Like everyone else in his life, she’d slip through his fingers.

  “You see the irony in all this, don’t you?” She walked up beside him, and all he could think of was that she must be cold, just wearing those white cotton pajamas. “You grew up thinking you were the bad boy, the troublemaker who could never be the good prince. Yet you’re the one helping victims of harassment on the Internet. Brian was always the golden boy, and yet he’s been living this secret life.”

  “Don’t try to make me into the good prince. I’m used to being the bad seed. Life has proven it at every opportunity.”

  “Like when that boy died here.”

  He tried not to give away his surprise at that statement but knew he failed. “Don’t tell me Brian showed you that.” He couldn’t have. He hadn’t been there.

  Rita shook her head. “Emmagee mentioned it.”

  Maybe if he told her, she’d see that everyone he cared about died. “I was a rebel. I figured that since everything in our family was always black or white, I had to be black. Brian was goodie-two-shoes, so I acted up. The rule was neither of us could go up to the roof deck unless an adult was present. Not only did I go up without an adult, I convinced my best bud, Billy Franklin, to go up with me. We even climbed over the railing and onto the roof.”

  “Where you were that night when I thought you were about to jump.”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t only thinking about Brian; I was thinking about Billy, too.” He could see it as though it has just happened. He looked up to the right, where the steep roof was. “He had no problem breaking the rules with me. We climbed to the top and felt superior for a while. Billy lost his footing. One second we were laughing, literally on top of the world. The next, he screamed. I tried to reach him.” His hand clenched at the memory of trying to grab Billy’s hand as it scrabbled on the shingles. Their fingers brushed, but Christopher couldn’t get a grip. Billy kept screaming as he slid down the roof, and Christopher screamed as he nearly fell trying to grab him.

  “I couldn’t get a hold on him. He fell backward and cracked his head on a stone table. He died at the hospital that night. A month later, Billy’s family sued us. Things got shaky for a long time. And my parents hated me. I was too broken up about Billy to care much about anything else.” He turned to her, and when he saw compassion in her eyes, he almost didn’t want to go on. He made himself. “Don’t you get it yet? I don’t want to be the good guy. I just want to be left alone.”

  Without another word, she wrapped her arms around herself and walked back into the bedroom. He felt cold. Not just on the outside, but all the way through. Still he waited, giving her time to settle into bed. Only when he was sure she was asleep did he return to his bed on the floor and try to gain the false peace that was sleep.

  CHAPTER 18

  The phone rang in the middle of the night. Christopher fumbled around in the dark until he found the handset. Rita turned on the light. She didn’t like the puzzled expression on his face.

  “He’s what? … Monkeys?... We’ll be right down. Keep an eye on Brian. Thanks for the call.”

  “What was that about monke
ys?”

  He hung up, shaking his head as he grabbed his sweatshirt. “That was one of the nurses. The security guard, Dumas, is freaking out, thinks there are monkeys everywhere.”

  “Monkeys?” She was gathering her clothes, too.

  “Yeah. Let’s find out what’s going on.”

  Neither spoke as they drove. It was still dark, only three in the morning when they reached the hospital. She knew he was worried; he hadn’t turned on that infernal rock and roll.

  “What’s going on with Brian?” he asked the first medical person they saw, a young man in scrubs. “Where’s the guard?”

  “They have him subdued.”

  “Subdued? What the hell happened?”

  “The guy went nuts, screaming, knocking into things. Took three guards, two doctors and a nurse to pin him down.” His expression sobered. “You’re Brian LaPorte’s brother, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “It happened while everyone was preoccupied with the security guard.”

  “What happened?”

  Christopher looked past the guy’s somber expression toward Brian’s room. He rushed forward, Rita behind him.

  “Where’s Dr. Schaeffer?” he asked a male nurse who was in the room.

  “He’s not on duty tonight.”

  That’s when Rita realized the monitors weren’t on. The respirator wasn’t pumping air into Brian’s lungs. The nurse was pulling a sheet over his head. They didn’t do that to people who were alive, that would suffocate them, they did it when someone died, and Brian could not be dead. Her chest was already aching, her eyes hot and tingling.

  Christopher pulled back the sheet to reveal Brian without the tubes that had kept him alive. He looked pale and gaunt, yet strangely peaceful.

  “Mr. LaPorte, I’m so sorry.”

  They both turned to Sasha, who had just walked into the room.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “His heart stopped. We tried to bring him back, but it was too late.”

  “His heart stopped? Just like that?”

  Sasha looked at Brian. “His whole body has been under a great deal of stress. His heart couldn’t handle it anymore.”

  Christopher’s eyes looked shell-shocked as they stayed on Brian. “Could someone have done this to him?”

  “You mean on purpose? But why?”

  “Never mind the why. Could it be murder?”

  “We can test his blood for toxins. If you want an autopsy, I can help you arrange it. It’ll cost you about two thousand dollars.”

  “I don’t care what it costs.”

  Sasha was studying Christopher, who was oblivious to her curiosity. “All right. Let’s see what the blood tests come back as; then we’ll proceed from there.”

  “What happened with Dumas?” Rita asked.

  “They think he might have decided to bring some of the Mardi Gras celebration in here. It appears to be drug-related, acid from the looks of it. Never know what you’ll see this time of year. He seemed fine when he came out and got a drink of water. A short while later, he was screaming about killer monkeys. I assure you, he’ll be fired and prosecuted.”

  “Do you know if anyone talked to him prior to the monkey episode?” Rita asked. “Did anyone have contact with him?”

  “Not that I saw.” Sasha stood there looking as though she felt awkward. Finally, she said, “I’ll leave you alone with him.”

  “Maybe it was death by natural causes,” Christopher said. “Maybe Sasha was right about the strain on his heart.”

  He wanted to believe that, but she wasn’t about to let him. “This was murder, don’t you doubt it. And it was Sira. Somehow she got in here and drugged the guard to cause a distraction. Even you can’t deny the coincidence of his going nuts at the same time Brian died. What if Sasha is part of this?”

  He couldn’t deny the coincidence, she could tell by his expression. He didn’t comment on Sasha, just stared at the man who had been his brother in name only.

  “Do you want a minute alone with him?” she asked.

  “What good will it do now?”

  “They say that the soul lingers after a person dies. I don’t know if I believe it, but…I’d like to.”

  She walked over to the bed but looked up instead. “Brian, I know you’re not in there anymore. And you’re not in the gray place, either. I hope you’re on the way to Heaven. I hope someday I’ll see you there. But don’t worry; we’re going to find out who did this. We’re going to keep fighting for you.”

  Her eyes welled with tears, and she wiped them away. He had touched her life. She looked back at Christopher, who stood there like a statue. Brian had changed her life, too, by bringing her here. He had pulled her from her safe little world to this strange place, and into the lives of two brothers. And here, she had found strength inside her she hadn’t known. “I’m glad I met you, Brian. Thank you for making my life better. Goodbye,” she whispered before walking out of the room for the last time.

  The pink house on St. Charles looked dull and washed out in the muddy moonlight, a reminder that everything bright had a dark side. He stepped into the doorway and closed it behind him. He’d stuffed the janitor’s uniform in his tote bag before leaving the hospital. He set the coffee cup on the mantel.

  As a considerate hospital worker, he’d been glad to bring that nice old guy a cup of java—laced with some of the best stuff he could get his hands on. On his way out of the room, he’d taken the cup and planted the suggestion to watch out for killer monkeys, describing them in detail. Once the acid took hold, the guard had created enough fuss for him to inject potassium chloride into Brian’s IV and slip out unnoticed. Since potassium chloride could be present when the blood hemolysed, no one would suspect a thing.

  The fireplace was warm and toasty now, a healthy flame that devoured the clothing, the cup of coffee, the brown curly wig, and the plastic part of the hypodermic needle. He walked into the room where Sira waited for him. “I took care of Brian,” he told her.

  “Yes, I know. I know everything you do.”

  “You’re not pleased,” he said. “You wanted to do it.”

  “I thought you didn’t like killing people. You were too squeamish.”

  “Let me be the man once in a while and do the dirty work.”

  Her upper lip twisted in a sneer. “You’re not a man. You’re just a wanna-be. I’m in control.”

  Sometimes he hated her. She had given him strength these past two years, but she could just as easily take it away.

  “I saved your life,” she said. “Never forget that. ‘From this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, as if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing…’”

  She had saved him from the ceaseless turmoil, when his isolation and loneliness had gotten to be too much to live with. When death seemed the only escape.

  Death…it was her weapon. Now it had become his, too. He didn’t have to like killing. But he would do it again if he had to.

  Christopher felt as empty and numb as he had when he’d made arrangements for Sherry’s burial. Her parents had been in too much shock to be of help. He had owed them that much, and though they never blamed him outright, he had failed them, too.

  The ‘ifs’ haunted him now. If he’d believed Rita sooner, if he’d looked harder. Watching her wipe away her tears and hearing Tammy sobbing on the phone reminded him that he had the feelings of a door knob. All he could dredge up was guilt, just like he had with Sherry.

  After making the necessary calls, he sat at Brian’s home desk and logged into his hidden inbox. His jaw was working hard on the piece of gum he’d popped in earlier, and he wondered if it would disintegrate if he chewed it long enough.

  He felt Rita walk into the room before she made a sound. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something in the air changed when she came in.

  Without turning to her, he said, “The funeral is scheduled for Wednesday, day after Mardi Gras. After everyone has cleansed their
souls of their sins and promised to give them up for lent.”

  She came up behind him. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking his e-mail.”

  She pulled one of the chairs beside his and sat down. Vitar had answered.

  King Alta:

  Have attached Sira’s declaration. Am relieved you are still here. I wish to discuss Sira. I believe she is dangerous, that she is taking Xanadu too seriously. Forgive my references to the real world, but I have traced her to New Orleans. She has hidden her identity quite well, though, so I have no more information. Will keep working on it. I advise you to be careful, since you are probably there preparing for the Gathering. There is more, but I must speak with you in person. I will not be online again until we meet at the Gathering. You must reassert your authority in Xanadu and attend as our king, your majesty.

  “She lives here,” Rita said. “Which still includes Tammy, Sasha, and Emmagee.”

  “Or it might not be anyone in Brian’s world. Sira’s just as likely to be someone on the fringes…in the shadows.”

  He clicked on the attached file. A document that looked like a scroll opened. It proclaimed that Alta had become ill and rescinded his position as King of Xanadu. Sira would now reign. Xanadu’s website had been moved, and the new “doorway” address was listed. All passwords would remain the same.

  He looked over at Rita. “So we pay a visit to Xanadu.”

  “Definitely. But we’ll need a passport…er, password.”

  The Web page was a patterned gold screen with no visible place to enter the site.

  “This can’t be right,” she said. “There’s nothing here.”

  “There’s probably a hidden door somewhere. It’s a trick I’ve seen before.”

  He moved the cursor all around. Way up in the right corner, part of the background disappeared and became the log-on. He typed in Alta and Prince Caspian, which melted the background away to reveal a purple screen. New age music poured from the speakers. A man appeared, dressed in what looked like the costume they’d found in the warehouse.