“O-okay.” I
bumbled awkwardly out of his office and shut the door. Now with my
memories back, I knew I’d been somewhat sexually adventurous. At
least before Professor Stevens. And I’d been largely comfortable
with my own nudity even outside of a sexual context.
A lot of people separated nudity into categories. There was shower
nudity, always okay. There was sex nudity... largely essential and
normal and nobody felt uncomfortable because everybody naked was
engaged in a shared naked activity. And then there was random walking
around the house nudity, which most people were only okay with inside
a long term relationship involving plenty of random nudity.
I had been okay with random nudity, even in a full frat house after
all the sex and games were over. I was just that way. But with
Shannon it was different. I felt so overwhelmingly awkward when he
looked at me that way outside a specific sexual context. If we were
engaged in some naughty activity, fine, but otherwise... let’s just
say I was more than relieved to close his office door and be outside
his line of sight.
The white cat gave me a dirty look and stalked
me up the stairs. I’d meant to ask Shannon how nice the place was
and what I should wear, but I’d been caught off guard by his
continued irritation over the candles, the way he watched me move, as
well as knowing that this
private
call
most likely involved his latest
hit.
There was no way I’d go back in there and interrupt such a call to
ask about wardrobe, so instead, I selected a simple navy summer dress
with a cardigan to go over it. It
was
still winter... if you
could call it that. The temperature had peaked at fifty-five, and
wouldn’t drop below forty until well after midnight.
I took a quick shower and got ready, pausing only briefly in front of
the bathroom mirror to inspect the burn marks left by the wax. I’d
played with candles and wax before. Most of the time, it wasn’t
nearly so scary because we usually used soy wax since it melted at a
much lower temperature than paraffin. So it stung a little, but
didn’t usually leave marks behind.
In truth, I kind of liked these marks. And if I took care of it, they
wouldn’t linger very long. I applied burn cream from Shannon’s
first aid kit and finished getting ready.
When I descended the stairs, he was waiting for me on the living room
sofa, stroking the white cat, who had rolled onto her back so he
could rub her belly. She hissed at me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
The cat jumped off the sofa and flounced off to another part of the
house in full-on diva mode.
Shannon input the code, and I followed him outside to his nondescript
black hitman car and got into the passenger side. I managed to wait
until we were out of the neighborhood before I asked the question
that had plagued me for days now.
“Why did you leave so fast that morning? Was it because of what I
told you? About my professor?”
Shannon didn’t reply, but he gripped the steering wheel harder, and
the muscles in his jaw and running down his neck tightened
noticeably.
“Let’s just have a nice dinner, and we’ll talk about it when we
get home.”
I was sure I couldn’t have a
nice dinner
until after we’d
talked about it, but I didn’t want to ruin things.
“Are you going to let me leave the house more?” I asked.
“Of course. You’re not a prisoner.” But the way he said it
wasn’t very convincing.
Sure, I wasn’t a prisoner. He’d just made clear on more than one
occasion he was never letting me go and stated in pretty absolute
terms that he felt I belonged to him. Why would I think I was a
prisoner?
“Are you still mad at me about the candles and wine?”
“No. I wasn’t mad to begin with. But you knew I wouldn’t like
it.”
I was quiet for another ten minutes until he pulled up beside the
restaurant and turned off the ignition. The restaurant was in what
had once been a somewhat old-fashioned cottage in the historic
district.
“Oh my God, Shannon. Please, please for the love of God, talk to me
about it now! I can’t have a nice dinner if I don’t know what the
fuck is going on. You just ran out right after fucking me, and you
didn’t even say goodbye. You were just gone.
Whoosh.
Then
you were mad when I called. And then I thought you just didn’t want
me at all because the balcony was unlocked and there was money and it
was just all too easy. Does what happened to me change how you feel?”
At this point, I was sure I just honestly didn’t care if he dragged
me out and strangled me in the parking lot. There was no way I could
sit in a restaurant and politely eat pasta in romantic lighting
without knowing what the fuck was going on.
Shannon, for his part, looked perplexed. He turned in his seat to
face me. “Why would it change how I feel? How I feel about what?
About you?”
I nodded. And all of a sudden I felt like a complete moron. Whatever
he felt had to be infinitely smaller than what normal humans felt in
romantic relationships, and here I was cornering him... asking him to
define everything. To explain himself. I was being the
where is
our relationship going
girl to the last guy on the planet who
wanted to hear it.
“Why would it change how I feel about you?” he asked quietly. He
seemed to really be struggling trying to figure out the complex
algebra I’d laid out.
“You don’t think I’m dirty or tainted somehow? Like... like
damaged goods?”
“No.”
As much as I was grateful for the silence with him, for the lack of
intrusion and overwhelming emotion and smothering, I needed more than
one word. Damn.
Shannon’s expression darkened. “I left because I was losing
control of my emotions. I never lose control of my emotions. It
disturbed me that I didn’t feel I had control of myself, and it’s
always been the one thing I’ve felt sure of, that I was in control.
Knowing what he did... I thought sex in the shower that morning would
take the edge off, and it didn’t. Then I thought the job would. The
job helped some, but not nearly enough. I’m going to kill that
motherfucker.”
It was like a chorus of angels singing.
I’m going to kill that
motherfucker.
I couldn’t help the smile creeping up my face. No matter how hard I
tried, I couldn’t mask the utter joy at the idea that not only was
Professor Stevens going to pay for what he’d done, but Shannon was
going to do it. It almost made up for the tragedy of crying for
Trevor. Almost. I would have given almost anything to go back in time
knowing the truth, and to coldly watch Trevor die without mourning
him.
“I want to go with you,” I said.
Shannon hesitated. “I really work better alone.”
“I have a right to be there. This is my vengeance. Not yours.”
For a moment it felt as though the two of us were two pieces that
came together to form one whole, that nothing made sense without both
of us together as one unit.
“Let’s eat dinner. Let me think,” Shannon said.
I didn’t push further because I knew that ultimately he would
decide if I got to go or not. Even if I ran away from him and tried
to do it all on my own, I wouldn’t know where to begin, and I would
very likely get caught. And I wasn’t going to do time for my
bastard professor.
It was hard to appreciate the restaurant. I wish I could have. It was
warm and cozy with what seemed like endless candles. There were some
low lights recessed into the ceiling, but the sheer proliferation of
candles made it seem as if the space was lit entirely by candlelight.
The food was amazing, authentic. I felt as though I were actually in
Italy.
But no matter how nice the atmosphere or how good the food, my mind
kept going back to Professor Stevens and the giddy sense in my
stomach that finally, finally, something in my life was going to go
right. Finally, someone who had hurt me would pay. Finally, there was
a man fully in my corner and on my side who was focused on the same
dark goal as me.
Neither of us spoke much during dinner. Shannon seemed in his own
world, planning this impromptu pro bono job. I didn’t even have to
pay him for it. He was clearly set on doing this no matter what. Even
through just the course of one dinner, I could see how his energy
shifted to this one idea. I wasn’t sure if all of his thoughts were
about planning the logistics or if he was also considering my
involvement—perhaps running parallel scenarios in his head of how
it would go down with just him versus adding me to the mix.
I was surprised when he ordered us dessert. I’d expected, with his
current intensity level, that we would eat quickly and leave.
I was sure the other patrons in the small restaurant were looking at
us strangely. I wondered if they thought we were in a fight or
something. It was extremely odd to be in such an intimate setting
sharing a romantic dinner in utter silence. Then I started to worry.
Wouldn’t the people of Stoney Oak gossip? This was such a small
town after all. Shouldn’t we at least make the pretense of small
talk?
But before I could make any real effort in that direction, we’d
finished dessert and the check was unobtrusively placed on the table.
“I’ll take that when you’re ready, Mr. Mercer.”
“I’m ready now,” Shannon said, pulling out his wallet and
sliding a credit card inside the payment folder.
When the waiter slipped away to process the payment, I noticed a
familiar person amble over. It was June from the boutique near
Shannon’s house.
“Shannon! I thought that was you! I can’t believe you missed the
last town meeting. We were discussing whether or not we should cut
down that huge diseased eyesore of a tree in front of the courthouse.
The historical shade tree committee was there, and put up quite a
fight, but we won in the end. After all, it might be a three hundred
year old tree, but it was well past the point of survival, and we all
knew it. It would have been nice to have you there. I know you would
have been on our side.”
“Absolutely, Mrs. Privet. I hate that tree. It should have been cut
down years ago,” Shannon said, his voice soothing and warm. It rang
a little hollow to me, but June didn’t seem to notice.
I was certain that Shannon didn’t give a shit about whether or not
the tree in front of the courthouse was removed. I was surprised he
actually attended Stoney Oak town meetings. It didn’t seem like the
kind of thing Shannon would do. But then I remembered how he’d said
he wanted to fit in when he was a kid, and I thought maybe there was
a part of him that still did. Though, I was sure it wasn’t
just
that.
All at once his choice to live in a small town began to click
together for me. These were the
he was such a nice man, I can’t
believe he would do that
people who always seemed to pop up out
of the ether to defend serial killers and other violent criminals.
The people of Stoney Oak were an unwitting line of defense for
Shannon. Should suspicion ever fall his way, they would instantly
leap to his defense as character witnesses and alibis—unwitting
accomplices to his illicit jobs.
“I noticed you two weren’t talking much. Everything all right, I
hope?” she prodded.
Shannon smiled, a practiced friendly smile. I couldn’t believe he
could actually pull this off. Ladies and gentlemen of the academy,
give this man an Oscar.
“Everything is wonderful,” Shannon said without missing a beat.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit pre-occupied planning our next trip.”
June appeared immediately interested. “Oh? What exotic locale is it
this time?”
“Thailand. We’re going to a small village that is in need of
clean water and helping with the effort there.”
“That’s just lovely,” June said, clasping her hands to her
chest. I thought she might swoon at any moment if someone didn’t
show up to catch her. “When do you leave?”
“A few days,” he said.
I wondered where
Mr
. Privet was. Shannon had given her the
married form of address. I wondered if her husband knew how she pined
for Shannon.
She turned to me, suddenly, “This one’s a keeper. You hold onto
him. I don’t believe I caught your name?”
Smooth. No, I hadn’t told her my name during my earlier visit to
the boutique. I imagined she’d already asked half the town trying
to gain that information to no avail.
“Elodie,” I said, forcing an artificial smile that didn’t seem
to come as naturally to me as it did to Shannon.
Before June could intrude further, the waiter rematerialized with
Shannon’s card and receipt. He signed and added a tip, then stood.
“Well, Mrs. Privet, I’ll see you at the next town meeting, after
we return from Thailand.”
“I hope you’re bringing Miss...”
Damn, she did not let up.
“Evans,” Shannon supplied. Not my real last name.
“Elodie Evans, yes we do hope to see her at the meeting.”
Shannon navigated the social etiquette of disentangling ourselves
from the curious Mrs. Privet, and we made our way out to the car.
“I don’t think you should have given her your real first name.
It’s too uncommon,” he said.
“I was put on the spot. What was I supposed to do? Besides, if I’m
going to live here, it makes little sense to give a fake name I won’t
remember to answer to. It’s not like
nobody
has my name. Besides, if
somebody did remember it, they probably remembered it wrong. They probably
think my name is Melody. People called me Melody all the time.”
Shannon was quiet as he started the car and we pulled out onto the
road. Finally, he said, “I’m just careful. You know that.”
“I like that about you.” I’m not sure why that popped out of my
mouth. It just felt like the thing to say. I
did
like that
about him. It made me feel safe because he always thought of
everything. I felt as though nothing could ever thwart or harm me
while Shannon was around thinking so many steps ahead, always on high
alert.