Darkest Sin

by Ashton Blackthorne

  “Come to me or Clay first, Rita, if you want something. We’ll find another dealer.”

  Shaking, I tried to get back to writing my song. As the months went by, more and more gruesome details about the murders began to surface. It was absolutely sickening and against everything I’d moved out here for.

  After the trial was over and the girls and Charlie sent to prison, Rita was on me from time to time to try and recruit some of his girls to join our commune. Rita was bisexual and enjoyed lots of women as well as men.

  But I wanted nothing to do with any of those women. I stood firm and refused.

  As the years went by, I focused in on my music. We were developing a strong local following. I had to laugh when people compared us to hard rock acts like Deep Purple. I never believed myself to be that talented. I just wrote and sang what I felt.

  Rita, Debra, and I continued our threesome relationship. I felt spoiled having two ‘wives’. Strangely enough, they never seemed to get jealous of each other. On the contrary, they were best friends as well as lovers.

  Clay and I remained close. He, too, had come from a similar background with a very wealthy family. Both our fathers kept pressuring us to return to New York and to go into business with them.

  But I loved what I was doing out here. The ‘free love’ atmosphere was still strong albeit more subdued since the murders.

  I couldn’t imagine going back to New York at this point. The thought of wearing a 3 piece suit every day and going into an office made me want to tear my hair out. I’d never pictured myself as a musician and a biker, but that’s exactly what I was becoming.

  I stopped reading and looked around me. The attic was dark, as night had fallen outside. The only light on was the single bulb dangling above me. Shadows of the past surrounded me threatening to drown me with their secrets. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. Walking over towards the other lightbulbs with pull chains, I yanked them on. The attic was illuminated chasing away the shadows.

  Pulling the journal back onto my lap, I noticed there were only a few pages left. I decided to continue on to find out just what had become of my musician hippie father.

  June 1975

  Alice’s Attic had been offered a deal with a small record label. Initially, I had been ecstatic, but for the past few months, I’d been thinking about moving back to New York. I loved the music, but the magic just wasn’t there for me anymore. Maybe it was because I was getting high a lot less or maybe it was because Rita had just given birth to a baby girl. She claimed it was mine, but she had numerous male lovers despite the fact we were in a relationship together and with Debra. The prospect of being a father right now terrified me.

  Clay had tried to persuade me to give the record deal a try. He was anxious to become a real band and go on tour.

  But that wasn’t what I wanted.

  I was getting out of the MC and the band and riding back to New York.

  “Rita, you’re welcome to come with us back to New York.” As soon as I said those words, I knew she wouldn’t go. She loved the West Coast, the partying, being a band groupie and a biker’s old lady.

  She spun around to face me. Her long lustrous black hair hung down her back. Her beauty hadn’t faded since I met her nine years ago on Haight Ashbury. In fact, she had only become more beautiful. “Debra’s going too?” She looked at Debra tears filling her eyes.

  “Yes, Rita. You’re welcome to come with us.” Debra held out her arms to Rita.

  She turned away from both of us. “What about Clay?”

  “He’s staying here for now. He wants to sign the record deal.”

  “And you don’t? Why, Ash? This is everything we ever wanted! All of us!”

  I shook my head. “I used to. Not anymore. That’s Clay’s dream now. Your dream.”

  Crying openly, she ran over to take Debra’s hands. “Please, Deb, stay. We’ll be the hottest groupies yet just like we talked about. We’ll be the inspiration for their songs.”

  Debra gave her a sad smile. She, too, had moved on with me. She’d stopped doing acid and popping Quaaludes a few months ago. Now all we did was smoke a little dope. “It does sound fun, Rita. But it’s not who I am anymore. I want a normal life. Ash and I are going to move back to New York.”

  “You’re going to go corporate?” Rita’s eyes bugged out in disbelief. Her lips turned downward in disgust.

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet, Rita. I have a trust fund. My father will sign it over to me as long as I stay in New York and off drugs. We’re thinking about opening a bookstore.”

  “A bookstore?” Rita shrieked.

  “I want to write children’s books,” Debra said quietly. She threw her backpack across her shoulder.

  “Are you serious? You’re no writer, Deb.”

  I placed my hand on Debra’s shoulder. “She can do anything she sets her mind to. So can you, Rita. All this fucking acid is destroying your mind. We created something beautiful here. We can do the same in New York. Come with us.”

  Rita shook her head. “What about Amelia, Ash? Are you just going to leave her?”

  I looked down and glimpsed Amelia sleeping in her crib. Her thumb was tucked in her mouth. Her raven black curls looked just like Rita’s. “I don’t know if Amelia is mine, Rita. You know that.”

  “But you can’t just leave us, Ash. What if she is?”

  “Then come with us.” I threw the strap of my guitar over my shoulder with my backpack. “I’m sorry, Rita. I love you, but we’re leaving.” I tried to embrace her.

  Rita backed away sobbing.

  “Please, don’t let it end like this, Rita. I love you, too.” Debra moved towards her.

  “Fuck you two! You don’t know shit about love! Leave! Get out! No one wants you here!” Rita swept Amelia up into her arms and raced off into the woods.

  Debra and I hopped on my Harley and roared out of there together.

  And never looked back.

  The diary ended.

  I closed the book and smoothed the leather cover. I couldn’t believe what I had read. Clayton’s ramblings weren’t just delusions. They were the truth. I searched through the box and found an album.

  The Best of Alice’s Attic.

  A .45 of ‘Witchy Girl’ by Alice’s Attic.

  I scooped up the diary and the records and raced downstairs to my father’s old study, the only place I knew he still had a record player.

  Opening the door, I moved past all the boxes to the back corner of the office. I slid back the cover to his old stereo. Flipping past the all the album covers, I pulled the .45 out first.

  After several scratchy sounds, the room was full of a hard driving beat.

  The song was good. It was better than good. It was phenomenal. My father’s voice reminded me of Ronnie James Dio though perhaps not with quite the impressive vocal range he had. I was in awe.

  I was shaking as I came back from my father’s house. I brought the box with me, but I shoved it into a closet before Amber came home. I didn’t know if I was ready to share that with her just yet. I hadn’t come to terms with it myself.

  Several hours passed before she returned home from the office. I had my chef prepare an exquisite meal for us. I left a note for her to dress for dinner after a hot bath. I went down to the boathouse for a while to think.

  How could my father be someone so different from the man I’d known?

  Why hadn’t my mother told him about Ayden?

  And was this Amelia really our sister? Where was she now?

  I missed my father so much it physically hurt. How I wished he were here so I could ask him all these questions myself.

  I sat there a few moments longer watching the ocean tide come and go, seeing my father’s face both as a young man and as he was right before he died. As the tide rolled back out, I thought about letting some of my anger for him go. I wasn’t so mad anymore, just very hurt.

  How could I have had a brother and sister I never knew about?
How could my father have just left Amelia even if there was just a slight chance of her being his daughter? Why wouldn’t he have stuck around to find out? Who was Amelia? I remembered being with her as a child, but to think that she may be my real sister was something I couldn’t wrap my head around.

  Shaking my head, I noticed the sun setting in the distance. I realized I’d been out here for over an hour. Time to get back to Amber. I headed back in

  Amber’s face was bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was absolutely exquisite. The long red gown she was wearing hugged her every curve. breasts heaved against the flimsy fabric of her dress. She was everything I’d ever wanted. Everything I never knew that I could even have.

  And finally, tonight she would be mine.

  “Ash,” she whispered as my fingers found her heated flesh.

  “Sh-hhh. Don’t talk,” I placed my finger over her lips. She moaned and her head fell back as I brought my mouth to her, covering her skin with a sigh. God, she was perfect. She even tasted perfect.

  My lips trailed along the delicate skin of her neck, dipping low into her cleavage. My hands roamed over her, the delicious curves of her body. With my every touch, I felt Amber jump as if electrified. Her body twitching under my hands. I couldn’t blame her, I felt as if electricity were running through me as well.

  Pushing her roughly onto the bed, I stepped over her. I shifted again, pulling her dress down and allowing her flesh to spill out over it under my hungry gaze. I had never wanted her as much as I did at this very moment. I had never felt my cock swell so large. “Amber,” her name fell from my lips and echoed throughout the room, a whispered prayer. I didn’t want to hear another word until I was deep inside of her.

  She arched her back and obediently spread her legs as I slipped her tight lacy panties off of her legs. I could feel how wet they were and it made my cock throb with excitement knowing how ready she was for me.

  The flames were roaring inside the fireplace, casting an intimate glow throughout the room. Rain had begun to fall outside pelting the huge picture window.

  The night was absolutely perfect.

  It was time for us to be one.

  As I knelt down between her legs, I stopped to inhale her scent. My tongue flickered out to stroke her swollen clit. Amber groaned loudly as my mouth engulfed her hot pussy. She was so sweet, so exquisitely delectable I could’ve drowned in her.

  Over and over again, I sucked her sweet juices, bathing my face in them. I could feel her clit quiver beneath my touch knowing any second she would come.

  And this time I was going to let her. No waiting this time. We’d done enough waiting. I wanted to feel her, all of her right here, right now.

  “Ash,” she groaned as I felt her pussy tighten around my tongue.

  Her entire body trembled as she came drenching my face. My cock stood up so hard it was touching my navel. I couldn’t wait to be inside her any longer.

  I stood, moving up and over her until I had covered her in my body, her tits pressed against my muscled chest. She ran her hands over my back, digging her long fingernails into my skin. With a ragged groan I gave in, sinking down even further.

  I thrust my cock deep inside her, pulsing my hips forward. We both cried out loudly as I felt her dripping wet, tight pussy grip my cock. I closed my eyes. I wanted to savor every second of being inside her. I’d never had a woman feel this good to me. She fit me like a glove. Like she had been made for me.

  Brushing her silky hair back from her face, I looked at her. Her full lips curled into a brief smile as I bent to kiss her. Once our lips met, we couldn’t stop. Our mouths melted together again and again, as I ground my cock deep inside her.

  Amber’s hands roamed down to my ass pulling me even deeper inside her. I wrapped her legs about my waist and I rode her deep and hard thrusting inside her feeling her tits jiggle beneath me.

  “Ash, I’m going to come again.” She moaned.

  I felt her pussy clench even tighter around my cock. I’d never been so hard in my life. Normally, I enjoy prolonging my own orgasm, but this time even I couldn’t wait.

  An animalistic cry emerged from my throat almost like a guttural growl as I came deep inside her pumping my hips hard filling her pussy up with my come. “Amber,” I whispered into her ear.

  I could feel her heart pounding against mine. The rain continued to batter the windows and the flames of the fire made shadows dance upon the walls.

  Now was the time. I could feel the words bubbling up from within me. This time it wouldn’t be my head speaking, but my heart.

  “Amber, I love you.”

  Fifty Three

  Ayden

  I’d been attending church fairly regularly. I found it to be a soothing experience and a lot less judgmental than I thought it would be. Father Marcus was turning out to be more of a friend than a priest. After the sermon on Sunday morning, I would stay after to help him clean up then he and I would go down to the local pool hall and shoot pool.

  After I’d given him a solid beating at game seven, we called it quits. Strolling over to the bar, we each ordered a beer.

  “You still drink, Marcus?” I asked amazed.

  He laughed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about being a priest, Ayden. I’m not all pious and saintly acting. I’m a regular person who just happens to be a priest. I still enjoy the occasional beer or two.”

  Slamming back a Bud Light, I wiped my mouth. “Marcus, you never told me your story.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The track marks. You’re a former drug user yourself.”

  “A long time ago, yes.”

  “What was your poison?”

  He sighed peeling the label off his beer bottle. “Heroin same as you. There’s nothing better than slipping a needle full of smack into your arm, is there?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. That’s why it’s so fucking deadly.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So how did you get off of it?”

  He signaled the bartender to bring us two more bottles. “To make a long story short, I lost my wife and my daughter.”

  I snapped open my beer. “How?”

  His eyes grew misty. “This was about ten years ago. I was a young man running the streets doing things I shouldn’t. My wife and I were heavy into drugs. She became pregnant with our daughter and stopped using. I tried to do the same, but I couldn’t. I hid my habit from her or so I thought. As you know, habits get to be expensive.”

  I knew that, I thought, thinking of all the times I’d stolen to support my own insatiable need for heroin.

  “One night I was desperate for a fix. I was broke. I went to my dealer to ask him if he could just front me a little until I got paid. He’d done it before so I didn’t think it was a big deal. Well, this time he denied me. I left fuming. Later, that night I broke into his place and stole his entire stash.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  His eyes looked off into the distance as if he was seeing something I couldn’t. “He knew it was me. So, a few nights later, he decided to get revenge.” He grew silent. “By stabbing my wife and daughter to death.”

  I sucked in my breath. I felt dizzy. “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “My God is right.” He guzzled the last of his beer.

  “So, how did you—?”

  “—get through it? I didn’t for a while. I did all the things most people do. I screamed, cried, cursed God, and vowed revenge, but when it came right down to it who did I have to blame? No one but myself. I put my family in danger by ripping this guy off. One night drunk out of my mind, I stumbled into a church much like you did last month.”

  I sipped my beer.

  “I fell to my knees in front of the cross and swore to God that if He could hear me, if He could help me get off drugs, I’d spend the rest of my life serving Him.”

  Someone blew a ring of smoke towards us. I began coughing.

  “And He did.
So here I am. I’ve been sober for the last eight years.”

  I whistled. “Damn, and I thought I’d had it bad. So, what happened to the asshole who murdered your family?”

  He shrugged. “I think he was killed by another dealer. I’m not really sure. I gave up trying to find out. I don’t think of him anymore. I’ve made my peace with God and with myself.”

  “So, what’s the key to staying sober, Marcus?”

  He laughed. “Ayden, there’s only one key, faith in God. He’s who sustains me every day. If you want to stay clean, you have to keep your eyes on Him.” He gazed down at his watch. “It’s getting late, Ayden. Thanks for the beer.”

  “No problem.” I smiled sliding off the barstool.

  As I walked back to my car, I thought about what Marcus had said. To stay clean, stay focused on God.

  Could I do that?

  I’d never been very religious or a man of my word.

  In fact, I’d disappointed everyone in my life, especially myself.

  Could I really let go of what lay behind and press forward to the future?

  Or was I simply doomed to repeat the past?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Ash.

  But he hadn’t texted me his address yet. I simply couldn’t wait a moment longer.

  I had to find him.

  Fifty Four

  Ash

  “Oh my God,” Amber whispered. Her hand tightened around my own.

  Looking up from my plate, I saw what captured her gaze. I couldn’t believe it. The nerve of him to come here after everything that had happened!

  His hair had been cut shorter much like my own. He wore a long sleeve thermal shirt. As his eyes met mine, I felt shock waves reverberate throughout my body. Horrible flashbacks of that terrifying night nearly sent me reeling.

  I bolted up from my chair as he approached us.

  The expression on his face was calm almost serene. As I inched away from the table, Amber grabbed my hand.

  “Ash, please, don’t. Let’s just leave.”