The Dark Scarlett

by Aven Jayce

  “I have something else to tell you,” he says. “A note on David’s phone said he wanted a family member to find his body, other than his daughter, saying that would be too traumatic for her. Your mother was the next logical person. That’s why he was behind the Scarlett. If Marcus killed him, he certainly set it up well. It’s scary to imagine someone like that is roaming this city. What’s he gonna do next?”

  “That’s the whole point. He wants to scare the shit out of me.”

  “Why? What for?”

  Good question. And I haven’t a clue. I watch as Sophia and Alyssa devour their salads and Haverty stares into my eyes waiting for an answer. He cracks his knuckles to pressure me into answering while the women wince at the sound.

  This time the interruption feels more like a rescue as our waiter returns to drop off a second basket of bread and to take our orders. Neither Sophia nor Alyssa can make a decision and both request “something good.” I order for them, while Haverty has his heart set on the roast pork. When it comes to food, he always knows what he wants, and Alyssa will eat anything, which is why she had a difficult time choosing her meal. If she could, she’d order a sample of each dish.

  “I want to know more about this other woman you’ve proposed to,” I say, moving Marcus out of the conversation.

  “Yeah, me too. I’ve been fuming in silence and you have no idea how pissed I am right now. How dare you treat Alyssa like shit,” Sophia snarls. “Who’s the other woman?”

  “No one.”

  “What do you mean, no one?” Alyssa chugs the remainder of her wine and pours another. She’s diving in and Haverty’s quivering like a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. “Have you guys seen his Facebook site? His profile picture is of the two of them with his arm over her shoulder.”

  “Whoa, no way.” Sophia takes out her phone to check it out.

  “Are you and Haverty Facebook friends?” I ask, only to get a headshake of no. “Who are you friends with, Soph?” She shrugs and doesn’t answer my question because her jaw is on the floor. “No fucking way!” she squeals. “Cove, look!”

  “Holy shit, Haverty,” I can’t help but laugh. He covers his eyes in embarrassment and moans.

  “You promised,” he whispers.

  “Nuh-uh. See, there you go again. It’s time, Jimmy. I didn’t promise nothing. You need to put her back in the box she came in or I’ll let Max hump her leg again.”

  Sophia’s in tears as she tries to control her laughter, only to make a snorting sound that sends us all into a round of deep, chest heaving chuckles.

  I’m finally able to speak, after wiping tears of laughter from my face. “You have a blowup doll, Hav?” I break down again, unable to contain myself. “And you proposed to it? And you think I’m fucked up?” I’m almost on the floor now, as his face turns red. “I’m sorry, man, but this is funny. You’ve got to be able to laugh at yourself about this one.”

  “I can’t believe you put her on Facebook instead of Alyssa. This is a joke. Right?” Sophia asks.

  He slides his hand down his face and nods. “Yes, it’s a joke.”

  “Nuh-uh. You sleep with her when I have to work the night shift at the hotel. Don’t lie to them.”

  “I work the night shift too.”

  “Not always. At the beginning of the week I come home and she’s in bed with you. And you keep her up on a shelf like she’s a trophy or something.”

  “It’s so the dogs don’t pop her. She’s fragile and I don’t want her to explode.”

  “Well, that’s what’s supposed to happen, you know? If you play around with me, I explode, only when I burst I’m not gonna shrivel away on you like she will. Do you want stability in your life? ‘Cause in my opinion, that woman’s unstable and the odd third wheel in the room,” she says.

  “Oh. My. God.” Sophia exclaims with her eyes bugging out of her head. “So this is real? You have two girlfriends and one’s a blowup doll?”

  “No, her name’s Marian and she’s just a friend,” he says sarcastically. “So what if I have a blowup doll? A lot of people do, women too. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “I agree there’s nothing wrong with it, until you put her on your Facebook page, then things get a little creepy.” I look at the site again and shake my head. “So, Jimmy... how long you two been together?”

  “You shouldn’t laugh at my secrets, buddy. It’s bad karma,” he says, somewhat serious.

  I nod and try to wipe the smile off my face but know I can’t as long as the picture’s on the screen. I swipe back a page and see Sophia’s site... the one with an excess of friends who I’ve never met.

  “If you must know, I fell in love with a woman about six years ago during my college days. We lived with one another for two years and I was convinced we were going to get married.” Alyssa rolls her eyes as if she’s heard the story a million times. “But, she graduated a year before me and was accepted into grad school in another state. She was worried about me cheating on her, which would’ve never happened, but she bought me the blowup doll anyway. She said if I had cravings I should get it on with the doll, and not with a real woman. The doll became a substitute for her and I became attached to it.”

  “And then she left?” I say. “And you couldn’t let go of the doll?”

  He nods.

  “So when you propose to it, are you proposing to Alyssa, or to the other girl?”

  “Soph, don’t ask him that.”

  “Why not? It’s a valid question,” she responds.

  “Yeah, right? That’s what I want to know, but he won’t answer me,” Alyssa sighs, while refolding her napkin and flashing him an exaggerated pout. “I don’t know why I stay with the fucknut and his other girlfriend. I love having me some Jimmy, but not Jimmy and pretty blowup Kimmy.” She takes another sip of wine as Haverty falls to one knee and pulls the timeless black box out of his jacket pocket.

  “My Muffin Mama, I’m going to make this short and sweet,” he grins.

  Oh shit, no way. Just out of the blue he’s gonna propose? That’s why he was so nervous. Damn him. This is slick.

  “Nuh-uh,” Alyssa says, looking at the box.

  “You said you wanted one of those fancy restaurant proposals like you read about all the time in your chick lit novels, and this is the best that I’m gonna be able to do.”

  I gaze at Sophia who has a hand over her mouth and both women have flushed cheeks, suckers for this kind of fanciful romance.

  “So, can I tie you in a knot... I mean, you want to tie the knot and have a fucknut for a husband?”

  Her shouting of the word yes scares the entire restaurant, and Sophia claps in approval as they kiss. I’ve never seen them in a close embrace and it’s no surprise they’re all tongues and slobber, kind of like watching his bulldogs when they lick his face. It’s quite nasty, but I’m happy for them.

  “That was smooth,” I say and shake his hand.

  “It was brilliant!” Sophia bounces in her seat.

  Alyssa stares at the ring and kisses his cheek then wraps her arms around his chest and rests her head on his shoulder.

  My wife snaps a photograph with her phone and posts it online. “I want to see that as your new profile picture in the morning. You understand?” she says.

  “Out with the old and in with the new,” he laughs. “I’ll update it just for you, Sophia.”

  “And for Alyssa, dumbbell,” she says.

  I deliver a congratulatory toast on their engagement and we clink water to wine as our food arrives. Meat for Haverty and myself, while the two glowing women at the table have salmon with brown rice and an apple salad. Nothing too rich for my wife’s queasy stomach.

  Sophia looks hot tonight in her strapless black orchid dress and I can’t help but stare. I know the color because I ordered it for her to wear at Easter. It’s one of only two she owns that has a zipper in the front, giving me easy access to her tits. She notices my eyes on her chest and rubs her fingers on my upper leg.


  My hand catches hers before she has a chance to slide it again. “Dove, don’t get me hard in front of our friends,” I whisper.

  “I heard that,” Alyssa says. She’s bold, but even bolder when she drinks. “I don’t want any throbbing penises around me while I’m trying to eat.” She looks underneath the table and speaks to my dick. “You listening? Down boy.” Haverty laughs and tugs at her arm to stop. I close my legs, because the fact of the matter is, my dick is coming alive. Fuck.

  “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

  “Cove, I was only teasing. It’s okay if you’ve got a stiffy.”

  “I don’t. I just need to use the restroom.” The three of them look down at my dress pants as I stand, but fortunately it’s only a chub, not big enough to poke its head out. It’s been eight short hours since Sophia’s sucked me off and I can’t believe how fast I recharge. I’ve been blessed and also cursed with a manic cock.

  Damn it, there’s only one closed stall in the men’s room and the rest are urinals. And as luck would have it, the restaurant has an attendant in here as well. Hell if I’ll ever understand why a guy needs to be in a restroom to hand me a towel after I wash my hands. They’re probably perverts. It’s one of the oddest jobs a guy could have. I keep my head down as I walk past him to one of the urinals. I hate using stalls when there’re people around because they think I’m taking a shit. Oh thank fuck. The stress of this situation is warding off a full erection. Keep thinking about shitting in that stall or the attendant trying to sneak a peek at my dick.

  Another guy walks in and pisses before I can even start my stream. Pressure. Nerves. Fuckin’ A. He leaves without flushing or washing his hands, which is asinine. The stench in restrooms when a guy doesn’t flush is sick, makes me gag. Plus he’s probably about to eat with dick sweat on his hands. At least we place ice in our urinals at the Scarlett to cut down on the stench. Good... I’m limp.

  The attendant flushes for the guy who just left, and as I finish and shake; a hand moves in and clutches my dick.

  “Need some help?”

  In less than a second, Marcus has me trapped in the stall with my head against the wall. He reaches inside my pants and digs his fingernails into my nuts. I moan from the pain... a pain that becomes excruciating when he shifts from clutching my sac to squeezing my broken fingers.

  “You pussy ass. Get you hands off me.” I jerk my arm in an attempt to elbow the motherfucker, but he steps away, exiting the stall to lock the main door before any customers can enter. I’m an idiot for not looking at the attendant’s face when I walked in.

  “Stop following me, asshole, and just tell me what you want.”

  “Oh, Cove,” he says while rolling up his sleeves. “Since when are you a fighter? Paul would’ve had his cock shoved down your throat if you ever spoke to him in such a way.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I whisper, still trapped in the stall with him in front of the door.

  “Wait, what’s that?” he asks with a turn of his head and a finger to his ear. “Are you telling your wife and friends all about me over dinner tonight? Am I the hot topic of conversation?”

  His obsession with blades over guns is apparent as I start to push past him and one’s pressed to the side of my neck in less than a second.

  “Don’t,” he says. “We’re just talking.”

  “So talk,” I demand.

  “I’ll be at the Scarlett tonight to get the check and then I’ll leave you alone, but you have to do something for me, a couple of things, actually.”

  “The money’s not enough?”

  “Oh, the money’s plenty. It’s replacement for a recent purchase or two, or three,” he grins. “By the way, does this blade hurt pressed against your neck?”

  My mouth stays shut. Just keep talking you little weasel.

  “How about now?” He presses harder and I wince. “Aha, so that’s the amount of pressure it takes. Just curious.”

  “Marcus...”

  “Cove?” he winks and puts his hand on my dick. I flinch, disgusted by his touch, but convinced there’ll be a moment... a split second when he’s distracted and I can take a swing. “Cove,” he repeats in a whisper and attempts to stroke me off through my pants. “I want you to grow for me so we can fuck.”

  My fist makes contact with his jaw and the knife falls to the tile floor. He holds his chin and smiles, eerily, just like Paul. I take a step back and he bounces... literally, the fucker jumps on top of me and brings me to the ground.

  “So is that how you hit your wife? Do you give her a deserving smack now and again when she pisses you off?”

  “Get the hell off of me.”

  He stands and takes a step away as I rise, slowly, cautiously, and he bends down with his eyes fixed on mine to pick up the blade.

  “So you don’t hit her then? I thought maybe because of all of the shit you’ve been through, you might be abusive, like myself.”

  “Are you saying you beat your wife?”

  “I never said that.”

  “I’m leaving,” I shake my head in disgust. “Bastard.”

  “No, I’ve got one more thing to mention about your wife.”

  At this point, the quicker I can get out of this room the better, but when he mentions Sophia, I want to hear everything he has to say about her.

  “Did you know she uses a jogging App but never turns it off when she’s finished with her workouts? You didn’t, did you? She also forgot to change her fitness profile from public to private, so right now any psychopath can stalk her. One just needs to find her name on the site to see her exact location. She’s not very bright, that woman of yours, is she? And why is it that I seem to know so much more about her than you do? Are you paying attention to her, or only yourself?” he unlocks the door and vanishes.

  Fuck, fuck. My hand grips my hair and I pace. Okay. Chill out and get your ass back to dinner. I run cold water and splash it over my face then take a few deep breaths. Better.

  Haverty opens the door, observes me gripping the sink, and passes along a paper towel.

  “Sophia sent me in, she’s worried about you.”

  “I’m worried about her,” I whisper with the towel over my face. My chest tightens when I realize she’s in the restaurant without our protection, and I push past him to make sure she’s safe. Her and Alyssa are at a distance, but Mr. Shithead is nowhere to be found. A back door’s been propped open for one of the bussers to carry out the trash. The perfect entry and escape for Marcus. I’ll have that check on me tonight. He’s getting it, in private, without setting eyes on Sophia. This is between the two of us, and I won’t allow him to terrorize any member of my family, especially her. I wish the asshole would just say what he wants... what he really wants from me so I can be done with him. I’m missing something and need to figure out what it is, what his plans are, and if his obsession with Sophia’s every move is to get under my skin and fuck with me, or eventually, fuck with her.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Hav pats my back as he catches up. “Did you have to rub one out, or what? It didn’t smell in there so you must not have taken a shit. You jerked off, didn’t you? I can tell ‘cause your hair’s messed up and your zipper’s open.”

  I zip and debate whether or not to tell him about the interaction. He’d probably run out back, but wouldn’t come across anything and I’m in no mood to ruin his night after he just proposed to Alyssa. “I was thinking,” I respond.

  “Whatever you want to call it is fine with me. Make sure you lock the door next time you decide to think so you don’t get caught by anyone and arrested. How does your hair get windswept from yanking it anyway? There must be a move I’m unaware of, right?” he laughs as we walk back to the table. “Come on, let’s finish our dinner. It’s almost time to head to the Scarlett.”

  The women are into a deep discussion about their mothers. A rare occasion for Sophia who has nothing nice to say about the woman, and from what I can tell, Alyssa’s in the same bo
at. I eye my wife’s cell and delete her App then turn off all of her GPS settings. She looks at me inquisitively, but stays in the conversation with Alyssa.

  “One time, my mother left me in a park. I was on the swings and she just drove away,” Sophia motions high into the air. “I waited for a good two hours but she never came back. It took forever to walk home. I was like, six or seven-years-old. She hated me and I felt the same about her.”

  “I went through that kind of hell too. Only, my ma dropped me off at her friend’s house. The lady kept calling her to come get me, but she said, ‘No, you keep the bitch. I’ve had her long enough. Someone else needs to care for her now. I’ve got shit to do.’”

  “No way? Finally I can relate to someone about my past. Most people I meet don’t understand, or don’t believe me when I tell them what I went through with my mom.”

  “For realz? Oh girl, you gotta hang out with my friends and me. Let me tell you something, we’ve got stories that are so scary they’ll make your vagina muff turn white.”

  Sophia cracks a smile and Haverty and I both shake our heads. He moves the wine bottle teasingly away from her and finishes his meal.

  “I’ve never heard you talk about your family, not even your father. I tend to picture you in your younger years as a homeless orphan,” Haverty says to Sophia.

  “Ha, that’s exactly how I felt too.”

  “What are your siblings like?” he questions. Unlike the rest of us, Haverty comes from a large Catholic family. He told me in private that his father was a drunken bastard who used to beat all twelve of his kids with a belt, but he never mentions any of his siblings, except for one sister who still lives in the area and works in a factory. On the other hand, he speaks very fondly of his mother, and I know he’s been caring for her since his father died.

  “Sibling. I have one, a brother who’s married and has a son. They live in Philly close to my mother, which is one of the reasons I don’t have much contact with him. We were always very competitive growing up, especially for my parents’ love. The two of us have been distant since I had a final falling out with my mother a couple of years ago. I don’t enjoy speaking to her, or my brother.”