by Carver Pike
She’d left our house and had caused all of the drama at Mrs. Rebecca’s house because she didn’t want to have sex. Then, as she grew up, all she wanted was to fuck.
Fucking whore. Fucking attention whore.
She was walking toward my hiding spot in the dark alley when it hit me that no matter how much I hated her, I was absolutely in love with her too. I always had been. As mentioned earlier, I’d masturbated thinking about her more times than I could remember. She’d been the only thing on my mind for so long. She was the reason I’d gone after Ava in the first place. Ava had reminded me of her.
Now, face to face with her in the dark alley, I couldn’t move. I froze up. Stalking women I knew so little about and killing them was easy but something about Nikki frightened me. It’s like I was forced to face who I really was. What I really was.
“DON’T BE A PUSSY!” Samuel yelled in my year. “GUT THAT BITCH!”
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“I thought we had an agreement,” Samuel said.
“We do,” I promised. “Just not her. Not yet. It needs to be a big deal with her.”
Nikki stopped walking and looked up and down the street and into the alley. She must have heard me talking to myself. She checked left and right again before continuing on right toward me. I sat huddled in the darkness, watching her walk by and struggle to keep her step in her heels.
The darkness grabbed me and suddenly I wanted her again. The hunt was on. My lips squeezed together and the whistle came out.
Ring around the rosy. Pockets full of posies. Ashes…Ashes…we all fall down.
Nikki stopped walking. She looked back into the alley where she’d never be able to see me in the darkness. I could see her though. Her silhouette was there in the alley, given shape by the street lights on the other end of the corridor. She was there, maybe thirty feet from me, looking right at me, but she couldn’t see a fucking thing.
Ring around the rosy. Pockets full of posies. Ashes…Ashes…we all fall down.
She turned and walked faster, making her way quickly through the alley before she suddenly stopped.
“Fuck,” she said.
The heel from one of her shoes had broken off. I whistled again and moved closer, seriously considering doing it. I could easily shove my knife through the back of her neck and leave her to bleed out there in the alley.
No, I can’t do that. I love her. But I hate her. But I love her.
The argument continued on in my head until Nikki did something I wasn’t expecting. She ran. She pulled her shoes off and sprinted out of the fucking alley.
Seriously?
She was gone. Just like that. I walked quickly after her, being careful not to get so close that if she made it out of the alley and found a cop or some buff bystander she’d be able to send someone after me. I did not want to be the one running anytime soon.
“You better catch her,” Putrid said, chomping his teeth at my ear.
“Don’t you let that cunt get away,” Hag said.
When I finally got to the end of the alley, I saw that she’d stepped into a diner. Del Mar’s diner. I’d been in the place a few times myself. Nobody would have noticed me as I’m good at blending in with regular people. People look right past me. It’s a gift really. I’m completely invisible to most. So while the normal people, the ones not haunted by demons, sip milkshakes and play with their phones, they have no idea how hard my cock gets thinking about slitting their throats.
There in my dark hiding spot, I watched as Nikki sat in a booth checking the door. She knew I was following her. She hadn’t seen me. I was sure of that, but she didn’t like the sound of my whistling. She didn’t like the tune. I was sure she remembered it. She had to. Everyone at Mrs. Rebecca’s knew that tune and Nikki did too.
Does she know who was watching her? Is she thinking of me the way I’m thinking of her?
“You fucking blew it this time,” Samuel said.
“Let’s punish him,” Rotten suggested.
“No!” I shouted. “Please don’t. I’ll kill her. I promise. You’ll see. It’ll be fantastic.”
“Promises…promises,” Hag said.
I ignored the demons, hoping they’d leave me alone this time, as I watched Nikki for a little while. It was clear she wasn’t going to leave the diner anytime soon, so I slunk back into the alley and made my way home. Death wasn’t in the air that night. Instead, it had turned into an anticlimactic version of hide and seek.
Well played, Nikki. Well played.
This week led to another discovery. Someone else from my past had been delivered to me as if handed over like a neatly wrapped present, a gift that must have come from the demons. This one came in the form of the drop dead gorgeous Sally, medical examiner extraordinaire. This MEILF, or Medical Examiner I’d Like to Fuck, had been a distant memory, one I probably never would have revisited if I hadn’t been covering for one of the security officers in the hospital when I saw her.
Yes, I do have a job. Of course I do. It’s not one I’m fond of so I don’t say much about it. It’s so easy a monkey can do it, but it allows me to doze off a lot during the day so I can rest from my nightly escapades. I’m a temp officer for a company called SecuriDyne, and through SecuriDyne I saw Sally again for the first time in years.
When I was in college, right around the time I’d become infatuated with Ava, I also had a crush on one of my psychology classmates. However, where it was a deeper longing for Ava due to the way she resembled Nikki in many ways, with Sally it was different. My fixation for her was shallower. In some ways I envied her. She was so sophisticated. While many of the university students showed up in tight shorts and t-shirts, she was always business casual. She didn’t waste time with silly questions but always seemed prepared with thoroughly thought out inquiries. She never asked a question without knowing at least half the answer already. That way, if the professor seemed confused or tried to bullshit his way through an answer, she could easily make a lasting impression by leading him or her to an intelligent conclusion.
In shorter terms, she was as skilled in the art of interrogation and leading a witness as she was in investigating dead bodies. She could have easily chosen any career path in the books, but for some odd reason she seemed fascinated with dead bodies and the stories they told. I found most of this out over dinner one night. To Sally, this would be nothing more than some stupid date she once went on. If she ever thought about it at all, it might be some evening far off in the future where someone mentioned grown men with speech impediments. Then she might say, “Oh, I went out with a guy once who had a hard time with communication because of his.”
You see, that’s how our date ended. She’d been the one to suggest we go for sushi. I’ve never been too fond of the stuff. She did most of the talking, and she was so damn good at it. Her intelligence and confidence made her ten times sexier than any other girl I’d ever attempted to know. Without trying to, she oozed sensuality. Everything about our date was great until I asked her to pass the sauce.
“The what?” she’d asked.
“The sauce,” I repeated.
I refuse to write it the way it sounds but believe me when I say that she had reason to trip over my words.
“I’m sorry,” she said with her brow furrowed as she tried to wrap her head around what I was saying.
She’d been into me before this moment. At least I’ve always believed she was.
“The sauce,” I said.
“She thinks you’re an idiot,” Samuel whispered into my ear.
“Ignore him,” Hag said. “Her pussy is worth a little bit of ridicule.”
When she still didn’t understand me, I reached past her and picked up a bottle of soy sauce. I slammed it down on the table and said, “The fucking soy sauce.”
She gasped and sat back in her chair with a hand on her chest. The look on her face said it all. I’d startled her without meaning to. I’d lost my temper and acted completely unprofessional to a
woman who obviously placed high value on chivalry and tact. That explosion ended our date even though we remained in our seats until we’d finished our meal and wine in silence.
Either she’d purposely avoided me after that or our schedules conflicted. I don’t know. Her seat was nowhere near mine in class and she always left right away, long before I could reach her. I’d wanted to believe she was a nice enough person to give me a second chance. So I went after that second chance one night at a party. It just so happened I ended up unloading beers into a pantry and she was ahead of me in that small space, looking for paper towels or something. Maybe she was helping restock the beer too. I don’t remember. What I do remember is her skirt was tighter than I’d ever seen it before, and I swear she looked back over her shoulder at me and smiled.
It wasn’t a regular smile. She was letting me know I hadn’t ruined my chance. She was open to the thought of having a relationship. I hadn’t scared her away. I knew it. Eagerness got the best of me. That and I’d been watching guys at local bars, clubs, and even parties. They always went after what they wanted. So I did what I thought was the suave thing to do. When she turned to leave the pantry, I grabbed her and pinned her up against the wall. She wanted me. I wanted her. Everything was perfect. She tried to play hard to get but I grabbed her wrist in one hand and her throat in the other, squeezing gently. When I was about to move in for the kiss, someone kicked the damn door open and ruined my fucking moment.
Sally ran out of the pantry and out of my life. I tried to see her a couple of times after that but she told me to stay away from her. I changed majors to avoid her and I eventually left school altogether.
As I passed her in the hospital hallway the day I was asked to sub with SecuriDyne, I realized she hadn’t changed much. She still made it her mission to solve whatever case was put in front of her. As a medical examiner, she was only supposed to investigate the bodies and tell the police her findings. Beyond that, it wasn’t her job to solve crimes. Yet, there she was on her phone, making it clear she was hot on the trail of something important. That something was me.
“Bruce, this isn’t normal. It’s not a typical OD,” she whispered angrily into her phone. “And who overdoses with cloves in their throat?”
She cupped a hand at the bottom of her phone as I passed, as if trying to muffle her voice to keep me from hearing. She never looked up into my face. I’ve always wondered if she had, would she have recognized me?
This stupid bitch doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.
She’d once had dinner with a serial killer and had just passed him in the hallway. Again, to her, none of this meant anything. To me, it was another example of how little I meant to the world. Right now. But soon I’d be well known.
And this Bruce…well…I may need to pay Bruce a visit.
Chapter 12 – Kevin
I faked surprise when Nikki walked into The Motor Quill that night. After seeing her peek through the windows a few times and contemplate speaking to my brother and me, I knew she’d eventually grow the balls to come inside. Of course I knew she was in town. I knew where she worked and stuff. Only to keep her away from my brother. Yet, when a stranger walks right through your front door and says hello, there’s not shit you can do about it. That was the case with Nikki. She was there, larger than life, and of course James lost his shit and jumped at the chance to be near her again. He’d always been smitten with her. He was in love with her. He always had been and he still was.
“N…N…Nikki?” I said. “H…h…how have you b…been?”
She looked past Ivory and over at me.
“Kevin,” she said.
Then all attention was back on my brother. When he promised her a workspace without consulting with me first, I was pissed. My tongue hurt from biting it so hard. We wouldn’t let anyone walk into our shop and take a slot without us both seeing their work first and discussing payment options and stuff like that. That’s how we’d handled everything with Chunk and that’s how we should have dealt with Nikki. Old friend or not.
My anger ricocheted off Nikki the moment the wannabe thugs entered the shop. Ivory stepped toward the door as soon as they entered. It was clear the guys had been drinking and one of them seemed to be forcing a girl to come along with him to get matching tattoos. I imagined he probably wanted his name tattooed somewhere on her body and if he was as dumb as he looked, he probably wanted hers somewhere on his.
We don’t tattoo drunk people. Some artists don’t mind but we’d had a couple of situations after we first opened shop. Being a young company and new business owners, we’d been excited for every single person who walked through our door. The same went for Natalie. She was super-hot and had a few tattoos already. She was wasted when she walked through the door and even though I warned Ivory that she wouldn’t even remember entering our studio the next morning, she convinced him that she was sure about her decision.
She wanted the words “Whore Squad” tattooed down the side of her leg, down low near the ankle. You don’t need me to tell you that was a bad idea. Ivory laughed when she told him but then he realized she was serious. So he did the tattoo. She loved it until the next day when her dad marched her through our front doors yelling that she was only seventeen years old and would not walk the streets with a tattoo declaring she was a whore. He blamed us for all her other tattoos too, which we found out later she’d gotten in trade for some random shit she gave our buddy Chunk. In our defense, she had a really good fake ID and she did not look seventeen.
In the end, Ivory fixed the tattoo by tattooing a wreath of flowers around the ankle to cover the words. I was only glad Ivory hadn’t fucked her. It wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d taken a client to bed. Something about needles and pain makes women horny. My love life sucked, as I’ve already told you, but I can’t say I haven’t slept with any clients. Nowadays I don’t, but we’ve all made mistakes in the past.
“Fuckin’ joker don’t know how to answer nobody,” the guy who seemed to be the leader of this ragtag group of pussies said.
I felt my body tense as soon as the words escaped his mouth. Not since the strip club had I hit anyone and it was about time again.
Please tempt me. Please give me an excuse. Please make my brother mad enough that he won’t be angry with me when I lose my temper.
I wasn’t given the opportunity to bash the guy’s skull in but I came pretty damn close. Chunk came out to support us in our claim that we don’t tattoo drunk customers. When they left and Nikki exited shortly after, I found myself alone in the studio with Ivory, ready to close up for the night.
“Can you believe this shit?” Ivory shouted. “What are the fucking chances?”
The chances that a girl who grew up in these parts might show up one day to mooch off you and get a free spot at your business? Pretty fucking good.
That’s what I wanted to say, but I’m a man of few words.
“Tr…true,” I said.
“We’ll be like family here,” Ivory continued. “We’ll give Nikki that spot near the wall. We just have to get all that shit cleaned out then everything will be perfect.”
My brother wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth. As angry as I was with him and as pissed off as the thugs had made me, I should have been fuming, but seeing Ivory so excited reminded me of when we were kids. Not that he had much reason for excitement back then, but even kids growing up in the shittiest situations find something to look forward to. The one gift I’d been able to give him when we were younger came in the form of an art set I stole for him. I swiped it from an arts and crafts store in Mrs. Rebecca’s part of the city.
Stealing wasn’t something I was proud of, but none of that mattered when I saw Ivory’s face. It was his birthday and other than my gift, he’d only received a baseball cap and a football. He told me once it was that cheap art set, which was really only a box of nice pencils and pastels, that led to his fondness for art and eventually to his desire to tattoo.
So the look on his face as he contemplated a possible future with Nikki in it soothed my strained nerves. She might be guilty of a lot of things. She might eventually pack up and run like she did when we were kids, but if it made Ivory happy even for a few minutes, it would be okay in the end.
“Man…,” Ivory said with his hands on his hips, biting his lip at the same time. “Things are getting better every day, brother. Things just keep getting better.”
After we locked up that night, I went to where I could sit and watch the Golden Gate Bridge. From the right spot, it can look almost sci-fi like. Lights flying back and forth toward a city of many more lights. I could’ve gone to Red’s and had a few beers with Ivory but I wanted to be alone. After all that time without my brother while he was on the inside, I’d gotten used to it being only me with my thoughts. Before he’d gotten locked up, I never needed quiet solitude. In many ways I feared it.
Now, I covered myself up in it like a security blanket. A quilt of comfort. Nobody was around to point fingers at me or call me names or laugh when I tried to tell them how much I liked or loved them. Again, my thoughts turned to Mrs. Rebecca. Fuck Amber and Cherry and all the other girls I’d been interested in throughout the years. None of them meant anything to me. Only Mrs. Rebecca made a damn bit of sense. And she was gone. I sat there in the dark, with only my thoughts, until the rest of the world woke up and began preparing for work again.
I eventually made my way to the only other place in San Francisco where I felt some sense of belonging. Del Mar’s was one of my favorite places to go. I considered it my own little slice of heaven. It was a place nobody treated me like shit. The waitresses were always nice to me and I didn’t even have to say much. They knew I always ordered pumpkin pie and the few times they’d run out, I only had to point at the menu to get what I wanted. I didn’t need to struggle through my sentences.
Mornings were always interesting at Del Mar’s. Somehow it attracted a wide range of clientele. From lawyers to accountants to ambulance drivers to cops to every other walk of life, Del Mar’s had place for them all. I’d met the owner a couple of times. Well, I didn’t really meet her, but I’d seen her a few times.