My Dark Knight

by Virgini Bellarica

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be in his life much longer if she has her evil way – I’ll be dead.”

  “You really believe she could try and kill you?”

  “I told you, Natasha called to warn me. She sounded really kind. Really concerned. She supposedly tripped down some stairs because the next door neighbor’s child had left some toys there. But she ended up in a wheelchair because of it – she could have died. The whole scenario sounds suspicious to me.”

  “She’s still in a wheelchair?”

  “No, apparently she’s all better now. Just has a vague limp. But it was a miracle that she was able to walk again. Poor thing.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Very nice, I think – does a bunch of stuff for disabled charities. Despite what happened, she hasn’t felt sorry for herself in any way. From photos she looks like a supermodel. Legs that reach up to her armpits, about five foot ten tall, a body to die for, a face like an angel, long blonde hair and sporty. At least she was sporty once before the ‘accident’ – I think she’s doing round the clock physical therapy and is doing really well. Max mentioned that she wants to sail again. To compete, so she’s dedicated herself to getting a hundred percent better. So brave. She sounds like a really admirable person.”

  “They’re still in contact?”

  “Yes, they’re still friends. He still cares for her.”

  “Does that make you jealous?”

  “It would but she’s happily married with a husband who dotes on her. Her childhood sweetheart who she knew before she met Max. Of course, that pang of envy is there, knowing how in love Max was with her once and, as I said, she really is beautiful, but you know, it was a long time ago.”

  Kevin takes my hand in his and says softly, “You’re beautiful, Arielle.”

  I look at him in shock. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me for years.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I owe you a big apology. I’ve been a total ass for so long. I’m really sorry, sis, I guess I must have been envious of you and holding in a lot of anger about John.”

  “Envious? Of me?”

  “I always felt that Mom loved you more. She always confided in you, not me, especially towards the end. It made me resentful inside, and I blamed you for all sorts of things. I now realize I was wrong. Will you ever forgive me?”

  My eyes are prickling with tears and I feel a lump in my throat. “Thank you, Kevin for that. It means the world.” I hug him, his bear-like body is now trembling as his tears come gushing out.

  “Arielle, I feel like such a big, fat failure. When Charles nearly died it knocked the wind out of me. I thought I was going to be alone forever, and it was then I stopped and thought about you. Really took responsibility for the way I’ve been acting towards you. I’ve been unfair and snarky and bitchy and you’ve...you’ve been so patient with me.” He’s blubbering now, his large body shaking with emotion. My heart goes out to him and I, too, am crying.

  I stroke his pale hair and say, “Because I knew that it wasn’t really you saying all those negative things. That you were hurting after John died and then Mom, and all that guilt you felt inside. You were taking it out on me because I was the closest person for you to lash out at.”

  “How come...” he asks between sobs, “you’re so wise?”

  “Because I felt angry, too. I felt guilty, crazy guilt about the tough love thing we were doling out to John. Those goddam meetings we were going to that encouraged us to look out for ourselves more and not pander to him and stop the co-dependency...you know, I felt mad at myself because I didn’t call him back that time – like if I’d been there more for him he wouldn’t have taken that overdose. I was mad at you because you and he had had that fight... and worst of all? I felt mad at Mom for abandoning us – even though it wasn’t her fault. Can you imagine? I felt furious at her for dying – how screwed-up is that?”

  Kevin wheezes out a little laugh. “I guess we’re both as fucked-up as each other, huh? We probably need several sessions with a therapist. Can we be friends now? Can you forgive me for being such a jackass?”

  I squeeze him tightly and say, “Of course I forgive you, and we have always been friends, no matter what. I have never given up on you, Kev. Ever.”

  We nestle in each other’s warm embrace. I feel the softness of his pink silk pajamas and smile. What a pair we are. He – the consummate drama queen and I, a basket-case disaster in every possible way. I can’t hold a deal together, have hand-picked a stalking Englishman as my future husband who probably murdered his father, and I don’t even know if I’m bisexual or if I can even ever have sex with a man and his penis again.

  Kevin’s breath hitches from his weeping, he draws back from me asking suddenly, “Well, did you call her back last night and ask for details – about her accusations about Jenny? Proof?”

  “Call who back?”

  “Natasha, of course.”

  Oh okay, so we are back to that conversation. Heartfelt sibling reunion over. Fine.

  “I didn’t have time,” I answer. “The second after I’d listened to Natasha’s message, Max and I had that crazy car chase and then he threw me over his shoulder and took me to Van Nuys Airport to catch the private jet to Vegas. I didn’t have a second.”

  “And then you escaped through the toilet window.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Leaving your cell behind with her number on it so you can’t call her back.”

  “Yes.”

  “Natasha could be making it up or accusing Jenny of something she never did.”

  “Whose side are you on, Kevin? You sound like Max! I’m going to end up in an asylum like in one of those psychological horror movies where nobody believes the heroine and sends her stark-raving mad!”

  “Sorry, just I haven’t met this Jenny, but I have to admit she does have a pretty face from photos and looks kind of nice.”

  I pound a feather cushion with my fists to stop myself from smashing my brother in the face. “Shut up!” I yell.

  “Sorry but all this is kind of... I mean, Max loves you, right? He must know his own sister. If she were really going to harm you physically, he’d stop her in her tracks.”

  “She stabbed her own father in the groin, Kevin.”

  “After he’d repeatedly raped her and beaten her – the father had it coming to him.”

  “That’s exactly what Max always says.”

  “What happened to their dad anyway? Where is he now?”

  “Oh, right, get this...he just ‘disappeared’.”

  Kevin laughs. “Wow, you really are entangled in a family affair, aren’t you? You think Jenny killed their father?”

  “Maybe,” I reply, secretly thinking that Max was in on it too, but don’t dare say that to Kevin. I think of how Max mixed rat poison with his father’s food when he was only a small child. Killing him could have been the next step. Max could be capable of anything, especially recently with all his money and power. He could have even paid someone to do it for them. And that’s why Jenny has such a hold on him. They share a guilty secret. I’m wondering at what point the father disappeared. Hmm...it would be interesting to know that.

  Kevin breaks my train of thought, “It sounds to me as if, deep down inside, you like the fact that your fiancé could be a killer.”

  I stare at him incredulously. “What?” Can Kevin read my mind? How does he know I think Max could be guilty of murder?

  My brother raises his pale blond eyebrows. “Who are your favorite movie characters?”

  I roll my eyes. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”

  “You love fucked-up tough guys, Arielle, let’s face it. You like bad boys, menacing, unscrupulous men.”

  “Max is not bad, he’s sweet and kind.”

  “Who are your favorite movie characters?” he sing-songs. “Travis Bickle and Michael Corleone, aren’t they? I think that says it all, don’t you?”

  “Okay, I love Robert de Niro and Al Pac
ino just because they are great actors, nothing more.”

  “No, what you love most is the mysteriously sinister characters they portray, their ice-cold, ruthless interiors mixed with their dark, brooding, panty-melting eyes. The irresistible villain. Well, in The Godfather and Taxi Driver Bobby and Al were in their prime, of course – they’re grandfathers now but–”

  “Max’s eyes are green, anyway,” I interrupt.

  Kevin takes a swig of coffee. “Your fiancé doesn’t have me fooled for a second. Oh, he’s Mr. Perfect on the exterior, alright, with his textbook English manners, opening doors for ladies and pulling out your chair at dinner and giving to charity et cetera et cetera, but within him lurks a dangerous man, believe me. Let’s face it, you’ve always gone for the typical bad boy.”

  “That is so not true! Brad wasn’t a bad boy.”

  “He started fooling around on you and you gave him the perfect out by having that little adventure with those footballers. Which means, maybe he wasn’t bad enough for you. You sabotaged the relationship because you secretly found him boring.”

  “How d’you know about the footballers, anyway, I never told you.”

  “I overheard Mom talking on the phone to you.”

  “You eavesdropped?”

  “You know how she used to whisper so loudly that it attracted attention? That, ‘no you don’t say’ voice she had that made you instantly stop what you were doing and prick up your ears? Well, she had that voice on when she was on the phone to you, and I....well, I just overheard, that’s all. You were not cut out to be the perfect doctor’s wife anyway, Arielle.”

  A wave of sadness engulfs me remembering my mother, and I feel heaviness weigh down my heart like a dull ache. I think back to my conversation with my mom and how she was always there for my problems; I could tell her anything, she was like a sister to me. I’m tempted to share my saga of the recurring nightmares with Kevin and reveal the real story of what happened with the rapist footballers, but I keep my mouth closed. The thought of my brother knowing anything about my sexual life repels me. “Listen,” I yawn, “I need to get some sleep; I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

  “Your bed is all made up with fresh sheets. The bathroom has everything you need. I’ll guard the front door, as I’m sure Mr. Possessive will be knocking at it any moment now. But don’t worry, he’ll need a warrant first, I won’t let him in.”

  “I don’t know what to do next, Kevin. I’m being cruel to him – he’ll be worried about me.”

  “Let him suffer for a while. He needs to understand you mean business about getting that nut-job sister out of your life first. If you don’t stand your ground now, the next thing you know she’ll be moving in to your apartment.”

  I flinch. Needless to say I haven’t shared the worst of it with Kevin about my adventure with Valentina. The too-close-for-comfort mess I got myself into, never mind the kinky business. Curiosity killed the cat, that’s for sure.

  “Just get some sleep and then we’ll think of the next step,” my brother continues, his voice sounding sensible. “Meanwhile, I need to call the office. This is the second time in two weeks I’ve played hooky.”

  I take a long, hot shower, then collapse into bed and fall into a profound sleep, not dreaming about needle-dick or any nightmares at all but hot, hot sex with Max. I hear myself coming in my sleep, feel the damp heat between my legs – wanting him, yearning for him. He’s fucking me from behind, me on top, me underneath, Cowboy style, 69 – every which way and I can’t get enough. His soft dark hair is flopping about his face, beaded lightly with sweat. I can smell him, even his cock I have in my mind’s eye, hard as a rock, fucking me, making me come in thunderous spasms. I’m hungry for him, ravenous for his touch, for him to be inside me. I’m moaning in my sleep. I need him. Want. Desire. A burning passion has me on fire.

  Can I be strong? Keep my resolve? Or am I so addicted to him that I’m a lost cause?

  13

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, while Kevin is working from home, I slip out the back door and use the neighbor’s entrance in their garden to make my exit. I still don’t know what to do about Max. I need more time to think before I call him. I’m in love with him, no doubt about it, and I want to marry him, but every time I’m tempted to give in I think of my naked body sprawled in a ditch, or in a shallow grave. Dead. Maybe even chopped up and distributed all over the United States. Or perhaps Jenny would meddle with the brakes of my car or slip cyanide in my drink. She has people working on her payroll all over the country – she could do anything.

  I spend a couple of hours at Kevin’s gym, swimming – letting out all my steam and stretching my aching limbs from that long car journey last night. The water’s great, and I feel so much better afterwards.

  As I’m approaching Kevin’s neighbor’s back yard, carefully looking out for Max, I hear steady footsteps behind me. My heart is racing, I feel a spike of adrenaline rush through my veins and turn around. It’s HIM. He’s standing there in jeans and a white T-shirt looking beyond stunning. His jaw is set firm and he has a five o’clock shadow and hooded eyes of a man who hasn’t slept all night. He’s not smiling. His face is stern, unflinching, but he doesn’t look angry, just immovable. Uh oh, this is scarier than anything.

  I walk over to him, stretch out my arms to hug him, donning a limp smile. But he steps back as if he doesn’t want me to touch him. His body language shocks me.

  “Max, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do last night.”

  “Oh, I think you did, Arielle. You had it all nicely planned out. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

  I edge closer but he steps aside, narrowing his eyes at me. All I can think of is how handsome he is and that I don’t want to lose him. “I’m sorry, I–”

  “Did you stop for even one second to think how I’d feel? Can you imagine what an idiot I looked; standing there with a lady’s handbag while my fiancée had climbed through the window of a fucking toilet? To escape from me? How debasing that was?”

  “I had no choice, I–”

  “I wanted to marry you, Arielle. I wanted for us to be together forever – didn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Oh my God! He’s speaking in the past tense!

  “Max, I still want to marry you, I still want to make this work, I still–”

  “Arielle, don’t you get it? It’s too late for that now. I can’t be with a woman who’s going to bolt on me every time my sister does something that she isn’t a thousand percent okay with. What kind of a man do you think I am? That I’d abandon my own family for some crazy notion of yours that my sister’s got it in for you, that she’s going to kill you? It’s just insane.”

  “She is!” I yell. “Natasha called me. She told me not to go to Vegas, that Jenny caused her accident–”

  “The night the accident happened, when Natasha tripped down the stairs, Natasha was tipsy and yes, it was Jenny who had taken us both out to dinner and ordered that extra bottle of wine... so was Jenny responsible? No she wasn’t, but at the time Natasha felt angry – she has two left feet and was always tripping up and usually never drank alcohol, but Jenny didn’t ply her with wine on purpose so she’d have an accident – you must have misinterpreted what Natasha said.”

  “I didn’t! Natasha said on the phone last night that–”

  “Well we’ll never know exactly what Natasha said,” he interrupts, “because your phone’s missing.”

  “We can always track down the messages, we—”

  He interrupts, “I was in such a state last night, calling the police – who didn’t fucking want to know, by the way – so I had to hire private detectives to try and find you. I was out of my mind with worry. I thought something could have happened. Anyway, I’m sorry, but with all the commotion I left your handbag by a take-out place in LA near the police station, and when I went back for it, it was gone. Stolen. Don’t worry, I’ve already reported it all missing–”

  “Max–”

  �
��And I know your phone was inside because straight after the toilet escape fiasco I tried to call you, and you can imagine the surprise when it rang in your fucking handbag. I had a look to see what else was there. Your wallet, everything left behind. I figured, a woman who leaves her fiancé without her credit cards and cell phone is a woman who’s on the run. As if I were some wife-beating bastard who wanted to hurt you – someone you had to run and hide from.”

  “No! It wasn’t like that. But I was scared. Scared to go near Vegas. I’m still scared of Jenny. Natasha was serious. Your sister wants me out of your life, she–”

  “Jenny would never hurt you, Arielle, believe me.”

  “I wanted you to stop her–”

  “Imagine yourself in my shoes, Arielle. You and your only brother. You’d abandon Kevin just like that? He’s behaved like an arsehole with you ever since I met him, yet you have still stood by him because he is your flesh and blood. You can’t just trash your own family! My sister and I have been through hell and back together and we’re close. But that doesn’t seem to register with you. Yet I still listened to you. I’ve made so many concessions. I have even started to dissolve my own fucking company for you. Even agreed to sell Finders Keepers to Jenny so I will be out of it one hundred percent. But you know what, Arielle? I’m done. What you did to me last night pushed me to my limit. You demonstrated to me, loud and clear, that you do not want me and you know what else? I think you’re using Jenny as an excuse. An excuse to run from me.”

  My heart is pounding. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He is dumping me! Dumping me in favor of his crazy sister.

  “I love you Max. Please. Please let’s work this out.”