by Jeff Vrolyks
Chapter Fourteen
True to the young man’s prediction, Trent was waiting at his house when Matthew pulled up at a quarter after two in the morning. He parked in the garage having passed the dark Audi in the driveway. The garage door closed behind his Volvo. He took a deep breath as he entered the house from the garage, felt a stress headache coming on. It was utterly dark in the house; he flipped the light switch on his way to the front door, unlocked and opened it in anticipation of his company, and began removing his white-coat. Seconds later Trent stepped out of the shadows inside the house, wiped his feet on the mat like the polite young man he was and greeted his girlfriend’s uncle and guardian.
Matthew tossed his coat on the couch-back and looked at Trent wearily; he didn’t have the energy for this discussion right now. “Not till she’s eighteen,” Matthew said off the bat. “That’s final.”
Trent walked to the recliner facing the couch and sat down, folded his legs, cocked his head at Matthew with a knitted brow. “Not till eighteen what?”
“You want her to move in with you, that’s why you’re here. And the answer is no. I won’t debate the issue.” He loosened his neck-tie.
“Why do you think that’s my purpose for being here?”
He glanced to the kitchen and dining room and wondered why the lights were off. Typically Mae left them on when she went to bed as a courtesy for him. He took a seat on the couch facing Trent, kicked off his shoes. “Is Mae in bed?” Matthew asked. “Do you know?”
“She’s at my place.”
Matthew sharpened his gaze on him. “What’s going on here,” he said suspiciously.
Trent smirked. “Okay, you’re right about why I’m here. Mae and I agree that it would be best for her to live with me. The high school in my neighborhood is one of the best in the country. Plus it’s safer out there. You got a serial killer hacking people up in this part of town. How could you live with yourself if Mae became a victim of the SacTown Slayer? It would be partly your fault, you know, being that you refuse to let her move away from here.”
Matthew’s eyes lighted with anger. “How dare you say that to me! My sister and brother-in-law were victims of that lunatic and you know it! I know damned well how it feels to lose a loved one to murder, so have some respect!”
Trent apologized apathetically.
“She isn’t moving because she’s fifteen,” Matthew said, struggling to resume his calm tone. “If for no other reason than that. She’s a minor. Consider yourself fortunate for not being in jail. I’m not stupid, I know you two are having sex. The reason, the only reason why I haven’t turned you in to the authorities, is because it would hurt Mae. You’d better hope she doesn’t break up with you, because if she does, my reason for withholding this crime from the police will have ended. Statutory rape is at least a year in jail, maybe more. And you’d be classified and listed as a sex offender for life. Enjoy that on your record. Good luck landing a decent job. And another thing: I pray for your case that you aren’t drugging Mae, by force or otherwise, or there’s going to be trouble.”
“What pills? I’m not giving her any pills. Why do you think that?”
Matthew judged his candor and was indecisive. “Because of the late hour, she can stay at your apartment tonight. But she needs to be back by tomorrow evening.” Inwardly Matthew said, “I honestly have no idea what she sees in you.”
Trent held his tongue. He so fiercely wanted to rip into him, maybe flaunt some of his shared sexual encounters with Mae, but Matthew was right about him being lucky that there wasn’t a statutory rape charge against him. Once she was of legal age he thought he might beat the living shit out of Matthew; the thought made him grin.
The grin faded when he remembered what Matthew had just said about Trent feeding Mae pills. If that wasn’t proof that he had been reading Mae’s diary…
“That’s messed up,” Trent said. “Reading your niece’s diary.” Matthew looked stupidly at his accuser. “Don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about,” Trent said. “Why else would you think what you do?”
“First of all, I didn’t even know she kept a diary and I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not. Secondly, someone told me that you’re giving her the pills. The same guy who warned me that you’d be here tonight stating your case why Mae should live with you. He also said you’re abusing her. And if that’s true, so help me God…”
Trent’s jaw unhinged. “Who?”
“None of your business. Go on, be on your way now. You’ve said your bit and I’ve said mine.”
Trent stared coldly at him for a moment before standing. He stepped to Matthew, looked down at him in his seat, and said, “Let’s just say for the sake of the argument that you’re right, that I do abuse your sweet little niece. When I get home I’m going straight to her in the worst of moods to accuse her of talking shit behind my back, of telling you things she has no right to be telling you. If I’m the kind of man you think I am, imagine how that might play out on poor Mae when I get home, mightily pissed off and wanting answers right damn now.” He raised one eyebrow at Matthew.
“Do it and I’ll put you in jail with a smile.”
“Tell me who told you and you won’t have to. Tell me who told you and Mae won’t get hurt. Don’t tell me and she’ll be getting hurt emotionally”—under his breath he added—“at the very least, emotionally.”
Matthew gazed vacuously up at Trent, shook his head in his disgust. Thinly he said, “I’m on the verge of forbidding Mae to see you, breaking her heart be damned. You’re worse for her than a broken heart could ever be.”
“That would be bad, Matthew. Very bad. For everyone. Every one. Tell me who told you that shit and Mae will sleep soundly tonight, cozied up in her purple pajamas, sleeping with a slight grin, happy as she can possibly be. Don’t tell me and things will be getting ugly in my apartment tonight, and it’ll be all on you. It’ll be your hands around her neck squeezing until her face turns blue.”
“I hope you burn in hell, Trent. Sincerely I do. The guy’s name is Edgar, is roughly your age. I don’t know anything else about him, his number or where he lives or where he works or anything. But he said that you aren’t who you claim to be—I’m not sure what he meant by that, but I don’t think he was lying—and said that he was at odds with you.”
“Huh,” Trent said amusedly. “Imagine that, I have an enemy and don’t even know who he is. He probably wants to fuck Mae and I’m standing in his way.”
“You’ve over-stayed your welcome. Get the hell out of my house.”