Page 28 of Lust

December 16th

Aaron

Thesteelbladeofmy knife gleams in the thin December sunlight as I file away every imperfection. Once the blade is smooth as glass, I polish the loopy, scrolling B carved into the handle.

As I work, a plan coalesces into my mind. I thought Brent was going to have a tragic accident, but now that Gary invited himself onto my list, there’s an arguably easier task: convince them to eliminate each other. Or at least make it look like that’s what happened. Shouldn’t be too hard once they’re both in love with the same woman.

And, speaking of the devilish diamond, a text message from Delilah pops up on my phone.

Delilah:

This dude is nasty.

Perfect. Gary’s already getting hooked. I pick up the phone and call her. I won’t risk putting our conversation into writing.

“You work quickly.” I don’t bother with hello.

“Trust me, there was minimal effort on my part. He’s a creep, and he thinks he’s the shit.”

“Excellent. Keep reeling him in. Speaking of creeps, how’s Brent?”

“He came into the diner this morning.” Her sigh radiates through the phone. “I should get an Emmy for pretending not to know that drunk asshole.”

“And that’s why I need you to keep working there a little bit longer.”

“I’m not complaining. Well, okay, fine, I guess I am complaining. But only about the fact that I have to be civil to him. Oh, and he wants to ‘meet’ me on New Year’s Eve. Our first date.”

This just gets better and better. It’s like these two dudes are suicidal.

“Make plans with Gary, too.”

“He’ll be thrilled.” She doesn’t ask why.

I make a mental note to give her a raise.

“Keep in touch.” I end the call. I got a feeling this next one is going to be a good year.

Ruby

Even though it’s the day after our holiday party, I drag myself home exhausted after a full shift on Sunday. Holiday season means working seven days a week.

Since Brent discovered the diamond necklace, I’m terrified to check the mailbox. My Secret Santa’s been giving me presents on Sundays, and I don’t believe Brent fully bought my Manuel story, so I assume he’ll monitor the box even when the mailman doesn’t come.

Sure enough, the mailbox is empty. Fear twists my stomach as I walk into the house. The kitchen table is also empty, though, and there’s no sign of Brent. Breathing a sigh of relief, I put on a pot of water for pasta and go back to my bedroom to change.

I take my time undressing, despite not having anything new to put on. Naked except for my vibrator necklace, I stand in front of the mirror. There’s no gift today, but everything else this guy has given me makes it clear that I’m wanted, and that thought alone is enough to make me smile. Now, if only I knew who the fuck was doing all of this. And why.

The note from yesterday is stashed in my underwear drawer with the rest of my treasures. Pulling it out, I remind myself to start locking my bedroom door when I’m not home. The last thing I need is Brent finding all the other gifts.

I’ll watch these diamonds sparkle on your pretty neck tonight,

while I count down the days until you’re wearing my hand.

The words cause a sharp intake of breath, and I can feel an invisible hand on my neck. It’s not fear that makes me gasp, though. Anticipation is what gallops through my veins.

Ever since I testified against the Fioravantes, my life stalled into a monotonous suburban purgatory. I was about to be someone, maybe even become famous. But when I realized that the people who’d promised me the world were dangling that same promise in front of other girls to trap them into sexual slavery, I threw it all away to take them down. I did the right thing, but it cost me my future. And I became Carol Jackson, and her life fucking sucks. Sucked. Until now.

Unclasping the vibrator from my neck, I open the drawer on my bedside table and pull out the lube. Santa may have missed today’s gift, but that doesn’t mean I won’t put on a show. Just in case someone is watching. Carol wouldn’t do something like that, but Ruby motherfucking Alvarado sure as hell will.

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