After Dark Read online

  I send an email off to the funeral home coming to claim the body tomorrow to let them know he’ll be ready for transport before shutting the computer off and getting to my feet.

  While I like to keep a meticulously clean workspace when able, I’ve done far too much heavy lifting tonight to give a fuck until I clock back in tomorrow night.

  As I pull my heavy apron off, and toss the butt of my now smoked cigarette into the trash can, I also realize that I may have to find a new place to have my midnight snacks.

  The last thing I need is to find myself attracted to someone that could easily be my next plaything—no matter how desperately I want to hear him squeal.

  Chapter 5

  The next few nights, again Bodhi didn’t show up at the diner. That was when I decided to stake out his apartment. The act of spying on someone, following them, learning their every move, isn’t new to me. I couldn’t help thinking that if Bodhi didn’t want me to find him, then he wouldn’t have shown me his ID. It was practically an invitation.

  I wait in the ally across the street from his apartment building, the only sign of my presence is the orange glow at the end of my Marlboro Red. Several times this week I’ve seen him in his window at night. Staring at himself in the mirror of his bathroom. I want to know what he sees in his reflection. I wonder if he knows how beautiful he is. I don’t know that I am ready to approach him again. What would I say to him? The last time we spoke, the conversation was light with a lot of awkward silence laced throughout.

  I check my watch. It’s almost 10:30, just about the time that I normally see him in the window. The thought of seeing him has my cock hard and I reach down to readjust myself. My draw to him has become stronger than the night we met. It’s more than the desire to have him run his fingers over my body. I don’t want to bring him harm, I only want to possess him. I want to own his touch.

  The light flicks on right at 10:32 and he steps up to the sink, just like each night before this one. His hair is a mess as if he’s just woken up. Staring in the mirror, he brings his hands to his face. He runs slender fingers over his feline features, which pulled me in just as much as his hands did the other night. He splashes water over his face and dries it off before grabbing his toothbrush.

  At the diner, he mentioned he was on his lunch break, so I know he works nights. I wonder what he does for a living. The idea of sharing a life with him creeps into my head, but it flickers out just a quickly. I would never be able to be open with him about my extra-curricular activities.

  The bathroom light goes off, but the light in his bedroom remains on. I can’t see in; I can only see the glow of the light shining from behind the shade.

  Should I follow him tonight? I ask myself as the light in his bedroom goes off.

  I need to see him again. Maybe if I hang around and follow him a little bit tonight, the opportunity to bump into one another will present itself. The sounds of other lurkers and passers-by mix together in the air around me as I convince myself that following him is the only way I’ll be able to see him again.

  Why the fuck is this so hard? I see someone. I like them. I follow them.

  There has never been an issue before; why now?

  It’s him; that’s why.

  I am pulled from my thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the pavement in the alleyway behind me. When I turn around, I expect to be face-to-face with a mugger, a druggie, or a whore, but I am pleasantly surprised when I see him instead.

  Bodhi.

  “How did you know I was here?” I ask him.

  “You’re good, I’ll give you that. I thought I saw the faint orange glow of a cigarette over here last night, but I wasn’t sure. But then when I saw it again this evening, I thought it had to be you.”

  “It could have been any one. How do you even know that I’m here for you?”

  “I don’t.” His face falls slightly and I immediately regret my words. “I guess I was just hoping that you were.”

  As we stand-off with one another, I stare him down, pinning him to his spot. The tension between us is thick and, if I had to guess, I’m not the only one hard as a fucking rock right now. I take one more drag of my cigarette before stomping it out with my boot.

  Then, I advance on him and catch his cheeks in my hands. My hands, which are used to snuffing people out, caress his high cheekbones. My lips crash into his—they’re full and plump, soft like velvet. I push him backward into the brick wall behind him as my hands work their way up into his long brown hair. I have no idea how he does it; how he can look like a meek little girl begging to be held down one minute, and in the next, look hard and strong like a god as he shoves me backward into the bricks on the other side of the alley.

  I begin to think that he is pushing me away, that he is rejecting me. Then, I realize his lips aren’t retreating; they’re fighting hard to keep our connection from breaking. He likes being in control as much as I do. That could be fun; or it could end us before we even begin.

  Begin what?

  Why am I acting like we would ever be a thing; like we could ever be a thing. I would never be able to be myself—my true self—around him.

  My lips leave his and trace the path over his cheekbone and down to his neck. I can feel his pulse beating beneath his skin and my cock hardens. He works his knee in between my legs, rubbing my balls as it goes. I open my mouth and a soft moan escapes me as I run my teeth gently over the skin just under his ear.

  Then, as suddenly as we began, he places a hand on either side of my neck and pushes me away from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he says with a pained expression, “I—I can’t do this.”

  Turning toward the street, I watch him walk away. I keep my eyes on him as he walks into the light streaming from the lamp above, until his last step back into the shadow that his apartment building casts upon the street.

  Chapter 6

  Playing a game of hide and seek with Knox was fun while it lasted. However, when I found him outside of my home, I knew that I had to end things before they even started.

  I’m not one for relationships.

  No one should have to sleep in an empty bed and anyone that I manage to seduce into the horror that is my life—man or woman—would get exactly that. An empty bed, because while I do enjoy my quintessential day job, I enjoy my nights off much more. My nine to five just so happens to be when the sun has gone down.

  That’s when I truly get to be myself and coming home to someone wondering where I’ve been, because you can’t possibly work seven days a fucking week, would be enough for me to do a little offside gaming.

  If you love someone, you shouldn’t hurt them, but I have no room in my heart for love.

  Lust?

  Perhaps.

  It’s a quandary I live with day in and day out, but I’m happy this way. I feel that it helps me hone my skills and become better at what I do when I don’t have to worry about getting home “on time” or having a good enough excuse as to why I didn’t come home at all.

  Still, the thoughts of Knox finding out where I live from a mere glance at my license sends a thrill through me that I haven’t felt in a very long time. The last person to grace my life as a partner was met with the same fate as any victim tends to do once the nagging reaches a level I can no longer stand.

  Unfortunately, it’s just how I’ve been built and I’ve learned to accept it.

  The longer the days seem to be, the more at ease I am with myself and my intentions, and when work doesn’t satiate the demon inside of me, hunting does.

  Knox needs to stay off my fucking back to stay off my radar, because while I would sooner filet him than fuck him, I keep wondering if maybe he can be something more. Maybe he can be the one that, when the demon does surface, he can caress it, hold it close, and become intertwined with it.

  A fool’s wish, I dismiss almost immediately as I enter the hospital and make my way toward the elevator banks.

  I’m sitting at my desk, spinning in the chair
. Some nights there are bodies to work with, while other nights are spent waiting for the coroner’s office to drop something off for me. On the nights I’m really lucky, nothing happens, and I get paid to sit in my chair and tidy up the place.

  While it’s very far and few in between that it happens, it suits me just fine. It means I don’t have to worry about going to grab something to eat smelling of death and sweat. I spin the chair again and glance up at the clock on the far wall and sigh.

  “Time for the ol’ midnight snack,” I mumble to no one in particular as I get to my feet and retrieve my jacket from the back of my chair. I shrug it on, grab my badge, then reach into the top drawer for my wallet.

  Using my hands to slick back my hair, I walk out of my workspace and back to the elevator at the end of the dimly lit hallway. It’s almost as if the place itself is Death disguised as an inanimate object.

  When the elevator bell dings after ten minutes of waiting, I step in, press the button for the lobby, then lean against the back wall with a smile creeping across my face.

  Oh, how true it is.

  Against my better judgement, I decided to go back to the diner I happen to be the fondest of. When I walk in, I scan the place through narrowed eyes and bite back a sigh of relief when I don’t see Knox inside.

  After his little game of find the predator, I was so damn sure he’d be in here waiting for me.

  “Hey, Bodhi!”

  I startle ever so slightly and glance to my left, smiling genuinely when I see my favorite waitress walking toward me.

  “Hey, Baby Jane,” I reply and she blushes. She takes it as a compliment, even though it’s really kind of a back-handed thing. She reminds me of the title character in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, which just so happens to be one of my favorite older movies.

  Regardless, she’s a sweet gal and likes having me around, which is something I’m not used to.

  It’s nice sometimes to have someone that genuinely appreciates your just being around.

  I also decided after the first couple of times she sat and chatted with me on the nights the diner was empty of everyone except for me, that I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s a good person that looks like she’s almost at the end of her life anyway, so there’s no reason to rush her along.

  “Same thing as always, darlin’?” she asks as I follow her to my favorite seat in the joint. I nod as I sit down and she chuckles as she walks away. I know she’s not laughing at me, rather the fact that I’m not very adventurous when it comes to my meals, but I quite like the meatloaf here and I’ve missed being able to have it for the past few nights.

  Baby Jane comes back and places a glass of water by my hand and I smile up at her. She shakes her head again as she disappears back into the kitchen and I let out a sigh before I begin to unfold my napkin, then drape it across my lap. I drop my chin into the palm of my hand as I glance toward the front door when I hear it open.

  I sit up almost immediately and narrow my eyes.

  A young couple, early to mid-twenties, walks in, holding hands, and obviously drunker than they can handle. I watch them as I reach for my straw and peel the paper back, then drop one end into the water, my eyes never leaving the scene unfolding in front of me.

  Baby Jane reappears and takes them to a corner table far away from me, and I nod at her in thanks when she glances over at me before she disappears into the kitchen again.

  The girl is loud, raucous, and obnoxious. The male is equally obnoxious with his loud requests for “some fucking head” when they get back in the car. I think that maybe tonight, I’ll have to leave work ahead of schedule.

  I’ll tell them I’m feeling sick, and it won’t be a lie.

  Sometimes, the only thing that can cure this ailment I have is the feeling of blood rushing over my hands.

  And tonight, I plan to feel better than I ever have before.

  Chapter 7

  “Again,” I say to Jessa as I sit next to her on the folding bench I brought with me today; it’s larger and allows me to sit closer to her as she plays. I rub my hand over my cock. I don’t think there will ever be a time that I don’t get aroused while hearing her play; watching her extraordinary fingers slide over each ivory surface. I see her eyes glance down at my hand and I know she is nervous that I am going to touch her again; or make her touch me. The distraction causes her to hit the high F and G at the same time, absolutely ruining her melody.

  “Focus! Again,” I command gently and her eyes shoot back to her sheet music.

  She is off to a good start on her new piece. I’ve asked her to really challenge herself and I know she will shine, but she seems to have lost a bit of her determination since coming here.

  I can’t blame her. I haven’t been around as much as I had originally planned to be. Even when I am here, my thoughts are often consumed by Bodhi. It’s been a few days since our kiss and I’ve been debating on whether or not to go back to his apartment and confront him. I know that he said he couldn’t, but his actions while we were lip-locked told me a completely different story; one that I am not going to give up on until more of it is written.

  I stand up with a loud, frustrated groan as my cock twitches at the thought of how his knee rubbed up against my balls that night. The sound of Jessa’s melody ends as I turn away from the bench and start pacing.

  “I’m sorry,” I hear her whimper from behind me.

  “What?” I turn and ask her. “Oh. No, Jessa, it’s not you. You’re playing beautifully.”

  I sit back down on the bench and take her hands in mine. I can feel her tense beneath my touch and I begin to massage her fingers to help her relax.

  “I was thinking about Bodhi—he’s the man I was talking about the other night. I went to his apartment and watched him for a few days; just like I watched you. Like you, he pulled me in more and more each time I saw him. He discovered me in the alley across from his building and I thought he was going to be mad at me. I’m not used to making contact with those I wish to take. Not until the time is right. But with him, it’s different. I don’t want to take him, but I do want to claim him as my own.”

  I look down at our hands, still caressing her fingers.

  “He wasn’t angry, at least not at first. Actually, we kissed. I know that he was into it. I could tell as he pushed my legs apart with his knee to get closer to me; as he cupped my cheeks in his magnificent hands. Then, abruptly, he stopped it and practically ran away. I’m not sure why.”

  I pause for a moment.

  “Do you know why he would have run like that?”

  I looked into her eyes, thinking I was going to see pity there; that she might feel sad for me. That she might offer some insight. But there was nothing. Her face was devoid of any emotion. It made me angry and that doesn’t happen very often.

  I’m a lover and not a fighter, after all. When that side of me does come out, it’s like someone else is taking over and I have no power over him.

  My eyes narrow as I feel him beginning to take over.

  “Do you have any idea why he may have reacted that way?”

  My grip on her hands tightens and I link my fingers with hers, making her breathing increase.

  “Nothing?” I ask.

  “I—I’m not sure. Maybe he was scared?” she cries out as fear flashes in her eyes.

  I begin to twist her hands until her look of fear turns into a wince of pain.

  “Oh, does that hurt?”

  “Yes,” she cries.

  “Well, it hurts me when you act like you don’t care about me. When you act like I haven’t been here, trying to help you get better; to be the best pianist that you can be.”

  With that, I force her fingers backward, causing them to bend the wrong way. I push harder until I hear some of them crack as the bones under her perfect porcelain skin break. She screams out in pain as I let go and grab onto her throat, pushing her off of the bench and onto the dirty floor beneath it. It knocks the wind out of her, and her hands fly up, hit
ting the ground next to her head, causing them more pain. She lays there, crying, struggling to get a breath as I land on top of her.

  “I have been nothing but nurturing and accommodating since you’ve gotten here!” I shout in her face as I lean over her.

  “Perhaps I’ve been too nice!”

  I wrap my hands around her neck and begin to squeeze. She fails horribly at loosening my grip. I am not sure how many of her bones I broke, but she surely won’t be able to use the majority of her fingers for a while.

  “Maybe it’s time to cut ties with one another.”

  “No! I’m—I’m so—sorry. It’s my fault,” she struggles to speak. I loosen my grip slightly but not by much. It’s enough to let her get her next few words out.

  “I’ll do better,” she cries as a combination of hope and panic swirls across her features. Her eyes move back and forth between mine, like the pendulum of a metronome. Thinking of the clicking, tick-tock noise that I’ve known ever since I was a young boy helps my body to relax a little bit. She can sense it and her features loosen up slightly as well, hoping that I am not going to hurt her any further than I already have.

  The rush I get whenever I come down off of a violent episode always makes me hard; this time is no exception. I lower my head until our noses touch and begin to rub my pelvis against hers.

  She can feel my hard cock against her and her eyes grow wide again.

  “You want to do better?” I ask her.

  She swallows her fear and nods her head.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes, I want to do better.”

  “Don’t move,” I warn her.

  I get off of her and press play on the recording device. I press the repeat button so her new melody will play over and over again until I am finished. I kick the bench out of the way when I return to where she is laying on the ground. She hasn’t moved one inch.