Page 25 of Savage Seduction

“I’m really glad you asked me to come over tonight. It is a good change from being in my apartment scrolling through the same four channels on the television.”

Ben takes another sip of wine. “Tell me about your evening. I know you just said about being bored and nothing on T.V. but what else did you do?”

A vicious internal debate plays out inmy mind. Confide in Doctor Ben or play it cool and pretend my life is peachy? “Do you want the generic answer?”

“There’s more than one answer?” Ben asks.

“Well sure,” I say. “I could tell you that I had a decent evening. Nothing special. Living the dream. That sort of thing. Or… I could tell you the truth.”

Ben snickers but then grows quiet when he realizes I’m not joking around. “I think I’d like to hear the real answer. I’m a big boy… I can handle it.”

“The Cliff Notes version is that someone broke into my apartment, scared the shit out of me, and now I hate the idea of ever being home alone again.” I stop and take a sip of wine. “Makes me quite the chicken shit, huh? Does this make me more or less attractive to you? You know… since we’re being honest and all.”

“First of all, are you okay? Do you know who did it? Are you sure you should even be going back home? Have you contacted the police?”

“Woah, doc. One question at a time.” I regret opening up. It’s not like me to be so honest with people I barely know, even though I’m really enjoying getting to know Ben more. “It’s nothing to worry about,” I lie. “I’m not too concerned. Probably just some tweaker looking for money, drugs, or something to sell for drugs. I don’t exactly live in the best of neighborhoods.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Ben reaches over and puts a hand on mine and squeezes. “You are more than welcome to spend the night here.” There’s a twinkle in his eye that sends a little tingle through my belly. This is potentially the closest I’ve been to having sex in years, and I don’t want to blow it by being weird.

But tonight, is not the night to go to pound town.

“I would love to, but I’ve got to be up early in the morning and then work a later shift than I usually do.”

“I know all about working late and getting up early the next day. Sometimes being an Emergency Room doctor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He looks down at his wine and takes a sip. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be complaining. I bet that makes me sound like a real whiny piece of shit?”

“Oh god, not at all,” I say quickly. “Trust me on this… there’s not a job out there that I couldn’t find something to bitch about after a while. I think it’s probably more about the annoying people we have to work with than the actual work. And that is completely normal in my book.”

“Good, I’m glad you think so. I’ll still try and be mindful of it, so I don’t get annoying.”

We share a laugh, and the conversation goes from there. We discuss our hopes and dreams. How no matter what we’ve accomplished so far, in life and career, there was so much more to do, see, and experience. I can’t help but think that we were really made for one another. At least to be really great friends, if nothing else comes of this.

Time flies by, completely unnoticed by either of us. That is until I yawn. Since we’re all done eating and it’s getting quite late, I stand up to say my goodbyes. As I do, I bump the half glass of red wine sitting in front of me and reach to steady it. I haven’t sipped a drop in well over an hour, having switched to water to make sure I could drive home safely. Having said that, a slow-motion disaster begins to play out with me picking up the glass, fumbling it, and ultimately losing control. The glass hits the table and wine splashes everywhere.

“Oh, shit,” I say as a large droplet of wine hits my face. I close my eyes for a few seconds, embarrassed and listening for signs of annoyance by my mishap.

Ben bursts into laughter. I open my eyes. The tablecloth looks like a murder scene, as does my shirt. Other than a few drops on the chair and floor, my shirt took thebrunt—thank God. Instinct takes over, and I pull off my shirt to help mop up the rest of the wine before it stains anything else.

I work hard to get every last drop soaked up when I become painfully aware of Ben’s eyes boring into me. I look up and realize by Ben’s expression, the scars etched across my abdomen and side shocked him. I stand and put the shirt awkwardly in front of me to cover up The Butcher’s handiwork. “I’m so sorry, Ben. I should really get going.” I start backing away and go straight to the front door without slowing down or waiting for a response.

Ben hurries to catch up but is only in time to catch the screen door as I run out to the car, embarrassed and ashamed. I curse under my breath. “Why did I take off my shirt? I’m such an asshole.” I’d only shown a handful of people the scars left behind by the madman, and usually, it was after a lot of prep work on my part. Making sure the viewer was ready to see my mangled flesh.

I look up from behind the wheel, and Ben stands on his top step waving to get my attention. I roll down the window to hear him out.

“Don’t worry about anything, Max. It’s not a big deal.”

Not a big deal? Bullshit.

Ben continues, “I’ll give you a call.”

I wave and whisper, “I’ve heard that before.” I roll my window back up and peel out onto the street.

I’m no longer scared. It doesn’t matter to me at this moment whether I return to my apartment and am killed by the intruder, or if I simply die of embarrassment.

CHAPTER 11

Ben

I'm standing alone in the kitchen, the damp tablecloth clutched in my hands, feeling the weight of the evening's chaos settle around me like a thick fog. Max has just stormed out, leaving behind a swirl of confusion and a wine-stained reminder of what just happened. My heart races, thudding loudly in my chest, almost drowning out the quiet of the now empty house.

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