Page 56 of Now Comes the Dark

Mallon had been at university, studying in Lyon, when he had received a call from home, from one of the waiters in the restaurant. His mother had stabbed his father eleven times during an argument in the kitchen. Despite the best efforts of the staff and emergency services, they had not been able to save him. His mother had been sentenced to life imprisonment when he was twenty-three years old. Mallon had made his own way in life ever since and had vowed that his children would never experience anything like the disorder and pain of his own upbringing.

His mother had been released from jail the past summer, after serving fourteen years of her sentence. The parole board had deemed she was no risk to the public. Mallon had visited her three time since, in a small village far from where they used to live. He saw little evidence that she had changed. She was mean-mouthed, sullen and ungrateful. She might not pose a danger to members of the public, but there was no way he would ever allow her to meet his children…not ever.

Mallon continued his walk along the Blyham waterfront. Most of the restaurants were busy this evening, their customers huddled inside, out of the cold.Not much farther to the apartment. His hands were warm enough to light another cigarette. It was a filthy habit, and he wanted to quit. The children hated it, and though Roman tried not to reveal his distaste, Mallon had noticed the way he turned his head away while he smoked, avoiding the polluted air. Mallon looked after himself in every other way, keeping fit, eating healthily most of the time. Surely he owed it to the people he loved to kick this one remaining vice.

Apart from his children, his life had been an unsatisfying ride for most of the time, as he avoided his parents and had formed a series of unsatisfying relationships.

Roman was the best thing to happen to him in over a decade. He was the perhaps the only meaningful and serious connection he’d made in his adult life.

Mallon couldn’t throw that away.

He had no idea how Roman would deal with the bombshell news he’d delivered this evening. It was selfish to expect he would want to, but Mallon would not give up on him easily. He wouldn’t take rejection without a fight. Roman cared for him, he was sure of it—maybe not as strongly as Mallon felt for him, but enough to make it work, enough to invest in some kind of future together.

In the beginning it had always been about sex. How could it not be when Roman was the hottest man he’d ever encountered? That face, that body, that ass.Oh, God, that ass. Mallon could not get enough of it, especially in those early days. As important as the sexual heat between them remained, something had overtaken it. Mallon looked forward to getting to know Roman. He wanted to take him out, to spend time with him, just to sit beside him and feel his closeness. He loved the deep, rhythmicsound of his breathing while he slept, the gentle murmurs he elicited in his dreams. He adored the sleepy look in his eyes first thing on a morning. Like most younger people, Roman was not at his brightest when he woke up. It only made Mallon love him more.

I can’t do without him.

Iwon’tdo without him.

Mallon reached the outer door of his apartment building. The security guard was not on duty. He let himself into the lobby and bypassed the elevator in favour of the stairs. Despite the lengthy walk back in the cold, he felt a restless energy coursing through his body. He took the stairs two at time, arriving at his apartment door sightly out of breath.

He had left in a hurry earlier, changing out of his suit after work to rush to Roman’s place, wanting to get there before he came home. Mallon’s cleaning service had been in that day and the apartment was immaculate, though it smelled strongly of air freshener and polish. How different it would be to return here at the end of a busy day to find Roman waiting for him.

Mallon grabbed a tumbler and opened a fresh bottle of Scotch. The whisky was smooth and oaky and soothed his throat as he swallowed. It warmed him from the inside and banished the cold of the January evening. He drained the glass and poured another.

He crossed to the window, unlocked and opened the sliding door onto the large balcony. He stepped out and gazed over the side, half hoping he would see Roman making his way along the waterfront towards him, that he would have wasted no time following him from the café.

The pavements were empty.

Mallon deflated further.Of course he isn’t there. He wondered again whether he had made a terrible mistake? He couldn’t stop wondering what was going through Roman’s mind. Would heeventually accept the secrets Mallon had revealed? Or was it over between them for good?

He questioned if he should text? Nothing serious. He could keep it casual. Let Roman know he had made it home safely and ask if he’d done the same.No, don’t make things worse than they already are. You’ve already overloaded the poor boy. Give him space and let him get in touch with you.

The wait would be interminable.

Better to wait than fuck it up for good.

Mallon stood on the balcony, gazing at the inky black water of the river and finished the whisky. He loathed this feeling of utter helplessness. With a sigh, he wandered back inside, leaving the door open a few inches to air out the smell from the cleaning products. He refreshed his glass for the third time and went into the bedroom, checking his phone. There were no messages. Resisting the urge to call, he put down the phone and undressed. It had been a long day. He’d gone into the office at six that morning to ensure he got away in good time. He would take a shower, have something light to eat and try to get an early night. It was wishful thinking. He knew it would be impossible to sleep until he had heard from Roman.

He ran the shower as hot as he could take it and stood under the faucet. He shampooed his hair and lathered his body, washing away the sweat and oils of the day and a little of the stress, though he suspected the whisky had done more to relax him than the water. After ten minutes beneath the scorching jets, he turned it off and stepped out. His body tingled with the heat.

He grabbed a towel from the rail and dried himself from head to toe, enjoying the softness and freshly laundered scent of the towel.

It had done him good. He felt better than when he’d gone into the shower. With another whisky and some food inside him, maybe he could unwind enough to sleep that night.

The bathroom resembled a sauna with its swirling wraiths of steam.

Mallon wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door to the bedroom.

As he stepped towards the bed, lost in his thoughts of Roman, he became aware of a change in the atmosphere.

Mallon realised he was not alone a fraction too late.

A blow to the back of the head with a heavy object sent him sprawling to the floor, and his entire world spun in a cruel vortex.

And after that…darkness.

Chapter Twenty-One

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