Page 7 of Encircled in Darkness
Shortly after, I met Greg by accident at a coffee shop near the state hospital. He bumped into me as I was leaving the hospital and he helped pick me up from the ground. He offered to buy me a coffee and visited with me while I ate a discounted donut. I spoke to him like I had known him forever, when in reality, I had never met him. My brain reasoned it was strangers-won’t-tell-your-secrets mentality and that was both my saving grace and my descent into madness. I was also so lonely that having a conversation with anyone had been comforting.
Greg had listened and before he left, he handed me a card with an offer to help. A few weeks later, I reached out to him out of desperation, hoping he could help me find a job. I had no actual skills and he put me in contact with Victor, which led me to tonight. Sitting in a car worth more than my house, speeding down the highway and into the unknown. The soft seats wrapped around my tired body and the lull of the highway drew me into a much-needed sleep. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream, but I felt a hand brush a lock of hair off my shoulder with a gentle touch to my exposed skin.
We slowed and I blinked into the darkened car, remembering where I was. I glanced outside the car to see we were driving past the public entrance to Pierce Lake. My eyes caught the lights shining through the trees across the lake, giving quick glimpses of the ultra-expensive houses and the powerful family that inhabited them.
Cautiously, I turned to find James more relaxed behind the wheel and I exhaled the fearful breath I had been holding. He softly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, a silent tune playing in his head as he drove through town. It was hours earlier than I usually got home and I clutched my purse in my lap, the check from Victor securely inside.
I needed to understand what he wanted from me, but from the way tonight went, I don’t think he knew what he wanted. He was an influential man, of that I had no doubt, but what kind of influence was what scared me. I had heard tales of a powerful man who used to run the Flats of Portstill, and he was the bogeyman that parents used to scare their kids.
Callahan.
Just his name would spark fear in people, and my mother used to swear she could tame him if she was given a chance. She was beautiful and used that to swindle men for money, hoping to land a payday. Neither my sister nor I looked much like our mother, and we didn’t resemble each other very much either. At an early age, we realized our mother didn’t know who our fathers were, and eventually we stopped asking.
Was James the same kind of man as Callahan, or was he worse? Was he a sadist like Victor or was he compassionate? I could usually get a read on people, but from the few times I had seen him, James was an enigma. He always leaned against the wall, watching the events unfold in front of him, his hypnotic green eyes taking in everything.
I still didn’t know why he bought my contract, but with the amount of help my sister required, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I could handle whatever he threw at me, hopefully, until Victor returned. I longed for the day I didn’t have to whore myself out to cover her needs, but if the darkness remained strong inside me, I could shuffle my moral decline into it and lock the door.
His words broke through the silence. “Tell me about yourself.”
That’s what he wanted to know? Why? No one cared about a whore.
I cleared my voice and replied, tying to be vague enough to still be honest. “I... I’m...”
Realizing I had no life, no friends, no family, and no education, the tears built in my eyes. Focusing on what he bought me for, I tried to reason quietly. “I’ll submit to you however you request but my agreement was no more than three nights per month. I have no hard limits except for bodily fluids and permanent marks on my body.”
James let out a frustrated sigh as he turned into the entrance to my neighborhood. I had no idea how he knew where I lived, but I presumed Victor must have told him. A few turns and he pulled into my driveway until his car was under the large tree next to my house. He turned the car off and moved so he could face me. I mirrored his stance and waited for him to speak. I had learned it was better to wait than to screw up with wrong assumptions.
His beautiful face stared across at me and I swallowed deeply, the silence now growing deafening. He blinked and I noticed how thick and long his eyelashes were. James licked his lips and I wanted nothing more than for him to put those pouty lips back on my aching pussy and make the pain disappear.
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the contract we had signed earlier. With a quick motion, he ripped it in half and laid the shredded document on my lap. My eyes grew wide as he reached into the other pocket, pulled out a black envelope, and handed it to me.
“Everything is inside.”
I took the envelope with trembling hands and let my eyes track from it to him. He nodded and pressed the unlock button for the door. With stealthy silence, he left the car and walked around to my side before he opened the door and assisted my exit with the reach of his hand. He was soft and respectful with me as he placed a hand on the small of my back and walked me to the front door.
James waited at the bottom of the steps as I unlocked the door, confusion and fear lancing up my spine. Did he just fire me? Was I out the money for the next few months? The hard look on his face told me he wouldn’t explain anything to me, and I glanced over my shoulder once before stepping into my house.
Just before the door closed, he spoke, his voice a deep timbre that resonated through my body, sending chills down my spine. “I’ll see you soon, Amaya.”
I nodded one time and he turned to walk away. He was about to open his door when I whispered, barely audible. “Who are you?”
He turned to me with a sexy smile and winked before cranking his car and pulling out of my driveway. Bewildered, I locked the front door and secured the extra locks I’d installed. I placed the envelope on the small kitchen table like it was a bomb and went to my bedroom to change. Deciding a shower would help, I washed the thick coat of makeup from my face and brushed my teeth, I felt like I could still taste Victor and his plaything on my tongue. Drying myself off, I left my thick hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in a pair of shorts and a thin tank top. With careful steps, I reentered the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine.
My birthday was last month, and I celebrated by getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself. The times when I was alone were when the demons screamed the loudest and I had learned long ago that alcohol and weed would mute them, somewhat. I couldn’t afford to waste money on weed to numb my pain, so alcohol became an occasional companion. I didn’t drink often, but when I did, I drank until I passed out, always paying for it the next day.
The memories of my actions played through my head like a graphic porno during the worst of the loneliness and somehow, I still ended up finishing myself off, crying as I found my release, using my greatest shame to push me over the edge. How could I use what should be horrific as the mental picture in my head as I masturbated?
I knew I was a whore like my mother and that was something Natalia and I fought to avoid, yet at the first sign of trouble, I ran to the easiest option. All I managed to do was destroy myself in the process. Tipping the glass up, I finished it and poured another, the black envelope still sitting on the table unopened, taunting me.
“Fuck it!” I proclaimed to the empty apartment and sat down at the small table with two wobbly legs.
Carefully opening the envelope, I pulled some folded pieces of paper with a paperclip holding them together. The first thing I saw was a check for twenty-five thousand dollars with the words short term employment on the for line. My eyes grew watery as I removed the check to find a handwritten letter underneath.
Amaya,
Please take this and use it for whatever you need.
James
