Darkness at the Edge of Town

by Jennifer Harlow

  I stared at Megan, my mouth slightly open in shock. I didn’t know what to say or do. She’d tilted my axis so much I didn’t know which way the escape hatch was. She seemed to believe what she was saying, and maybe it was my ego—it was getting quite the massage—but I guessed if I were to give in to my baser instincts and take her up on her offer, she wouldn’t stop until I was screaming in ecstasy. Maybe she was just a raging nympho who couldn’t help herself. She saw an opportunity and took it. No premeditation or guile involved. She just wanted to get laid and tried her best. Part of me wanted to leave the room, and yes, take a cold shower, but the psychologist in me wanted to see what she’d do next. I didn’t get a chance.

  A knock on the door halted observation time. It opened and Paul, to my relief dressed in a towel, peeked his head in. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course,” Megan said, sitting up.

  If he cared that she was naked, it didn’t show. He’d probably seen her naked dozens of times. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said.

  She grabbed her towel and a peach-colored dress from the bed. “You were…but I forgive you. The shower’s free?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Paul said.

  “Awesome. You two lovebirds have fun. Just know, Carol, the offer’s always open,” she said with a smirk. She smiled at Paul and whispered in his ear before strutting out, still naked. I wished I had that kind of self-confidence.

  I peered at Paul, who smiled awkwardly at me. He was especially cute when he was nervous. He wore a towel, but his sculpted chest was visible and lovely, toned and perfect, save for the obvious cigarette-burn scars on his arms and right above his heart. There was also a long knife mark on his wrist. He’d tried to kill himself at some point. The horror of humanity written on his flesh. I looked away before he figured out what I was doing. I hated when people zeroed in on my scar or tried to. I couldn’t wear low-cut pants or a bikini anymore. I could barely look at my own naked body without reliving Meriwether’s knife plunging in, separating my flesh from itself. The surgery after it. All the unimaginable pain I was in for months as I recovered. I wondered if Paul felt the same when he viewed his scars. I sure as shit wasn’t going to ask.

  Paul moved toward the dresser. “Let me guess, she came on to you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said.

  He removed a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. “Sorry about that. We had a bad day. That’s her coping mechanism.”

  “And here I thought I was simply irresistible,” I said with a smirk.

  He smiled back. Okay, he was just adorable when he smiled. And when he didn’t. “There’s that too.” He held up his clothes. “I’m gonna get dressed now. You seemed uncomfortable before, so if you want to go, I understand. I don’t mind you staying, though.”

  Now here was a member whose edict from on high was to make me happy and he was alone, without suspicious minds around. I wasn’t giving up that window of opportunity because I was a little embarrassed. “I’ll just look away,” I said, moving my gaze to the door. I heard his towel drop as he put on his jeans. “You’re not going to chastise me for being uncomfortable with nudity like Megan did?”

  “No,” he said behind me.

  “And are you going to try to seduce me like she did?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said behind me without hesitation.

  I smiled in spite of myself and turned to him. Paul was fully dressed, thank God. My lust level hadn’t lowered that much since Megan’s nymph routine. Maybe that was what her whole show was about. She was my fluffer. If that was the case, she was damn good at her job. Even clothed Paul was delectable, standing there with his tousled brown hair all wet and a smirk on his face. I was always a sucker for a smirk on a man. But Carol would be slightly nervous and uncomfortable, so I hung my head and began wringing my hands in my lap. “Why? Because I’m simply irresistible? Because you think the universe is telling you to?” I asked meekly.

  “You don’t believe either of those are true?” Paul asked as he sat beside me on the small bed. He made sure not to touch me but remained close enough that I could still sense his body heat and smell the lavender on him. Fuck, Megan was good at her job, I thought as I scooted away a little.

  “I…think you believe them for some unknown reason,” I said truthfully. “I mean everyone around here’s convinced the universe wants us together after knowing each other five minutes.” Which was quite clever of them to keep repeating. If you hear a “fact” over and over again, the brain starts to believe it.

  “Are you not attracted to me?” he asked sadly.

  “It’s not that,” I said, glancing at his almost pained expression. “It isn’t. I’m just trying to understand how you know what the universe wants.”

  “Because when I saw you last night, you took my breath away. Your energy, your radiance is like a beacon of light calling to me.”

  “Did you actually see this light, or…?” I shrugged.

  He chuckled. “Here.” He held up his hand and moved it toward my face. I flinched. “I’m not going to touch you. I will never touch you until I know you want me to. Just…” He kept his hand centimeters from my cheek so I could sense his body heat. “Feel that heat? Feel me? That’s my aura. It’s my energy. You can’t see it, but it’s there. And yours is…” He closed his eyes. “Conflicted. Nervous.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “Hopeful.”

  “I…don’t feel anything but your heat,” I said. “How do you sense all those other things? Is it because you’ve been with the group so long?”

  He lowered his hand. “In part. Mathias said I was a natural empath. I can sense what others feel in the moment. Mathias just helped me hone the skill.”

  “How?”

  “Meditation. Practice. Of course, the best time to really sense the measure of a person is when you’re making love,” he said with that seductive smirk again. “When it’s just the two of us, exposed, vulnerable, at our purest animal selves.”

  “So you’ve…practiced on a lot of people, then? Did Mathias or Megan suggest you should practice on me?”

  His face twisted almost in horror. “Is that what you think?” he asked, aghast. “That I’m some easily influenced idiot?” His mouth flopped open a few times. “Do you think so little of yourself?”

  “What?”

  “Do you really think the only reason I’d be interested in you is if someone put me up to it?” he asked, suddenly sad. For me.

  “Well, you just said he told you to practice empathy by having sex with lots of people. He—”

  “Mathias never told me who to sleep with,” he said vehemently. “Not ever. And certainly not with you. All he or anyone ever did was tell me who he thought might be on the same wavelength as me. Who might need my help getting in touch with who they truly are and what they can accomplish. Everything I do, I choose to do,” he said, his voice hard, “because the universe guides me to.”

  Maybe he truly didn’t see it. Maybe the only way he could continue on was to live deep in denial. I’d been there. My heart went out to him. He’d probably been used and abused all his life in the most violent of ways. But a beautiful, gentle monster was still a monster, and the more I uncovered about Mathias, the more I saw the fangs. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said, taking his hand. It was the only kindness I could provide without blowing my cover. What he truly needed was intense therapy and time away from users like Mathias. “I-I don’t know Mathias, so if I misspoke, I’m sorry.”

  “He would never use me or anyone like that,” he said with utter certainty. “He saved me from people like that.”

  “He did?”

  “I know you saw the scars.” He flipped over his damaged wrist. “My dad used to put cigarettes out on my chest when I breathed too loud when he had a hangover. Even when he didn’t have a hangover,” Paul said, hanging his head. “Mom OD’d when I was five, so it was just us and some junkie girlfriends of his until he killed a guy over drugs and went to prison. If possible, foster care was even wo
rse. At least Dad never forced me to suck him off like one of my foster fathers and a counselor at the group home. I ran off when I was fifteen. Of course, the streets weren’t any better. I abused my body. I sold it. Then I met this couple who took me in. Gave me my own room. Clothes. I thought they loved me. I loved them. But they used me too. I was a drug mule to Canada, and when I got caught, they left me to rot. I spent three years in prison after they ran.” He looked down. “My cellmate raped me. That’s when I tried to kill myself. And when I got out, I couldn’t get a job. Mathias found me when I was hustling the streets of Pittsburgh eight months ago. I thought he wanted to fuck me, but he just took me out for dinner and told me from the moment he saw me he knew I was a sensitive soul with so much wasted potential. We spent all night talking, and he listened to my every horror, every fear.

  “He came back to my corner the next day and did the same. By the third day, when he invited me to come live here, I believed in me. I believed I was more than my cock. That I was worthy of love and happiness. He opened my eyes to our place in the universe, my place on this plane of existence and the next. It’s helping others like me reach their full potential. Find their way off the detours and onto their true path. And I absolutely believe our paths were meant to converge, Carol. Truly. We are meant to continue on our life journeys together, and not just because Mathias sensed that last night would be the night I met my destiny. But because as I sit here, beside you, touching you…” He leaned in a little. “I have never felt more at peace. Because you have been in my every thought since I first laid eyes on you.” He leaned in more. “Because every one of my cells is telling me it is my purpose in this incarnation to take your pain away.” Closer. “To show you your true, beautiful self. To make as many of your moments joyous as I possibly can.” Our lips were only millimeters from each other. I held my breath. “Starting now,” he whispered.

  His lips gently touched mine, and I momentarily lost my mind. My body took control. I kissed him back. And it felt good. Really fucking good. Be it the years of celibacy, those swoon-worthy proclamations, his raw charisma, Megan’s prep work, or just my animal instinct, I forgot my mission and all common sense. There was nothing but those expert lips, his arms pulling me against him, his heat, his hands in my hair and roving up underneath my shirt along my bare back. I wanted that man. I wanted him to kiss my naked body. I wanted him to press his own flesh against mine. I wanted to get lost in the lust and just let go of all my troubles and replace them with raw pleasure for a few damn minutes.

  But I needed to stop.

  It took my mind ten seconds to find the strength to sucker-punch my body into shutting its whore mouth long enough for me to realize that what I was doing was fifty shades of fucked up. That I barely knew the guy with his erection pressed against me. That what I did know was that he was some screwed-up kid all but brainwashed into liking me. That I’d just be using him for my own selfish needs like everyone else in his life had. And if that weren’t enough to stop me, my mind pulled out the image of Luke leaning in that night on my porch in North Carolina. His eyes boring into mine. His lips moving closer to mine.

  K.O.

  I broke our kiss. “Stop. Stop!” I said, pushing Paul away.

  “What? Why? Did-Did I do something wrong?” he asked, aghast at the idea.

  I scooted down the bed away from him. “No. God, no. I just…I can’t do this. We have to stop. Now.”

  “What? Why? Are you afraid someone will walk in or something? We can go to your place or somewhere else more private.”

  And then I was faced with my second moral crisis in all of twenty seconds. I was still throbbing between my legs after facing the last one. This one was all the domain of my mind, though. It was my chance. All I had to do was keep leaning on this boy. I just had to say, “I’d be more inclined to fuck you if you take me to The Apex. We can make love on a blanket under the stars. That’s always been a fantasy of mine,” and he would. I’d be there. Mission accomplished. But the words wouldn’t leave my still tender lips. It felt wrong, almost as wrong as sleeping with him. It was still leading him on, still using him. Plus once we got there, and I revealed who I was, he’d no doubt be punished. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t. I wasn’t Mathias. Goddamn it, having a conscience sucks sometimes, I thought.

  “Oh, you sweet, sweet kid,” I said with a smile.

  “I’m not a kid.”

  “You’re what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? I’m thirty-five. I have a decade on you. And I need to be the adult here.”

  “If you’re hung up on the age thing, I mean, I don’t care. Ten years isn’t a big deal. I—”

  “It’s not an age thing. It’s not a…it has nothing to do with you. Nothing. Really. You’re lovely. You seem like a well-intentioned, caring, sweet, extremely sexy guy. You do have a lot to offer a girl beyond just your body. You do. And you deserve someone who can recognize and appreciate that. Appreciate you. Give you the love you deserve. But she’s not me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said vehemently.

  “I’m not. I’m really, really not,” I said just as vehemently. “Whatever you think the universe is telling you about us is wrong. We have no future, none, and I don’t want you to waste a second of your life on me. It’s wrong.”

  He stared at me, studied me for a few seconds with those pained brown eyes. After about three seconds, the pain morphed into compassion. “You’re still in love with your ex-husband, aren’t you?”

  “No, it’s not th—”

  “No, you are,” he declared. “Your heart…it’s full of another right now. I can sense it. You’re so closed off, almost blocked because of him. I just have to be patient.”

  “You don’t,” I stated.

  “I’ll have to show you we are what the universe wants, just like Mathias showed me.”

  He wasn’t listening to me. He was too far down the rabbit hole. There was nothing I could do to persuade him out of the madness. The kid was going to get his heart broken no matter what. In that moment I positively hated Mathias for doing this to this sweet, damaged boy. I hated myself a little too. The millisecond he started flirting with me, I should have shut it down. Hard. And I sure as hell shouldn’t have kissed him back. I was disgusted with myself and the whole situation.

  I rose from the bed. “You are wrong. Mathias is wrong. We are not meant to be together in any capacity. We will never be together. And this conversation is over. I’m sorry. Excuse me.”

  I strode out of the room without looking back. I passed Dutch in the hallway but kept my eyes down. Some people I recognized from the party the night before milled around the living rooms downstairs and I’m sure some said hi or smiled, but I kept my eyes glued to the floor until I made it to the only refuge I could think of, the first-floor bathroom. When I got inside, I shut and locked the door before sitting on the toilet and letting out a long sigh. What I really wanted to do was scrub the filth I felt coating my body, corrupting my every pore, off.

  Dozens and dozens of investigations. Two human lives snuffed out by my very hands. And I’d never felt as much like such a piece of shit as I did in that bathroom. The only time I’ve ever felt even close to being this vile a human being was when I woke up beside Luke after our night together. It was morally reprehensible to cheat on Hayden, to betray his trust, and what I was doing to those nice, lost people out there ranked up there on the despicable scale. I wanted to leave. There had to be a better way to find Billy and Mathias, one that didn’t compromise who I was at my core. I sat on that toilet playing out all the angles. The best way was still to stay imbedded with them as long as possible. I could just sit and listen, not engage anymore. I—

  There was a knock on the bathroom door, which startled me out of my thoughts. “Someone in there?”

  “Just a sec.” I flushed the toilet and went to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. You can do this, I thought as I wiped my face. Sit and listen, girl. Just sit and listen.

  A girl st
ood outside the bathroom and smiled as we passed one another. I half-smiled back. Sit and listen. I walked into the living room. Sit and listen. Sit and—

  Just as I sat down, the front door swung open.

  I almost threw up.

  The world came to a crawl as my mother walked in with Khairo at her back. His face was awash with trepidation and downright fear, but my mother was in full warrior mode, pissed as hell and ready to wage war. Her nostrils flared and her mouth was shut tight as a vise. I was more in my stepfather’s court, scared shitless about what was about to transpire. It was a train wreck fast approaching, and there was nothing I could do to stop it in time.

  Megan was coming down the stairs when they entered and quickly walked over to them. “Hello. Can we—”

  “Where the fuck is my son, you psychos?” Mom shouted through gritted teeth.

  “Um…” Dutch said, taking a step back from the crazy lady. “I’m sorry. Who is your son?”

  “What in the universe is going on here?” Helen asked as she walked in from the kitchen, Nessa and Dutch behind her.

  “Are you the one in charge here?” Mom asked, sidestepping Megan. Khairo remained glued to her side. I slowly took a step toward them.

  “No one’s in charge here,” Helen replied. “We’re all in charge of ourselves.”

  “Save me the cult gobbledygook, you psychopath.”

  “Don’t you dare call her names, bitch,” Megan said, stepping right beside Helen, ready to fight. Khairo’s back straightened, as did Dutch’s. As did mine.