After Midnight

46
REUNION

Unfortunately, the rest of Elroy wasn’t attached.
His head tumbled out of the den like a lopsided, mutant bowling ball, did a little hop over the door’s threshold, then dropped to the concrete outside. As it dropped, his tongue was sticking out. The concrete clipped him on the chin, and he bit his tongue nearly off. It hung by a string of flesh as his head rolled a crooked course toward the pool—toward me.
He seemed to glance at me each time his face came up.
The stump of his neck flung blood through the air.
His tongue came off.
He bounced and rolled all the way to the pool. By the time he reached its edge, his nose was flat and his front upper teeth were broken out. He gave me a quick, awful grin, then sailed off the edge and plopped into the water about a yard in front of me.
The water went pink around his sinking head.
I waded backward as fast as I could.
Elroy’s head seemed to pursue me.
But I stopped paying attention to it when the den door rumbled open.
Out stepped my midnight swimmer.
He held the saber in his right hand.
He wore nothing but shorts. From face to feet, he was spattered with blood. Except for his left arm, which was sleeved with it.
Somewhere in Serena and Charlie’s house, he must’ve made an awful mess.
If he kills me, I thought, at least I won’t have to worry about cleaning it up.
(You think odd stuff at times like that.)
He walked straight to the edge of the pool, then stopped and rested the point of the sword on the concrete beside his bare foot.
“Hello again,” he said. He seemed serious, but calm.
I didn’t say anything. I was having trouble breathing. Then I flinched as something brushed against the side of my right leg.
“You must’ve known I’d come back for you.”
I took a step backward to get away from Elroy’s head.
“Don’t. Don’t try to get away from me. You can’t get away from me. I’m way too fast for you. And today, I’m the one with the sword. I could kill you in the blink of an eye. Or slice off small parts of you here and there. You don’t want me to do that, do you?”
I shook my head.
“You be my good girl, then.”
I nodded.
“Don’t move,” he said, then raised the saber, stepped off the edge, and dropped into the pool. As water splashed up around him, I took a single step backward. He didn’t seem to notice. But he waded closer to me, and I didn’t dare move away from him again. “You’re very lucky to have a pool,” he said. “I wish I had one.”
Lowering his sword, he crouched down until the water covered his shoulders. Then he swished his left arm around, apparently trying to wash the blood off, and the water around it went pink.
“Your name is Alice, right?” he asked.
(Of course, he didn’t say Alice. He said my real name, which is my secret.)
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I’ve heard.” He dunked his head.
I thought about making a break.
Before I could decide, his head came up, hair matted flat, water running down his face. With his left hand, which wasn’t bloody anymore, he rubbed his face.
“I’m Steve,” he said.
“I’m charmed,” I said.
He smiled. “Glad to hear it.”
“That’s sarcasm, Stevie.”
His left hand smacked me hard across the face, burning my cheek and knocking my head sideways. My eyes filled with tears.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I said.
“Depends which side you’re on.”
“From this side, it sucked.”
“If you didn’t like it, you’d better learn how to behave.”
“Consider me taught,” I said.
He grabbed me through the front of my bra, squeezed my nipple and lifted. Both my hands were free. I didn’t try to fight him, though. Wincing, I went up on tiptoes and kept my hands down by my sides. Instead of begging him to stop, I hissed through my teeth and glared at him.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, keeping his grip. “We’re going to climb out of the pool, then have ourselves a nice party. Margaritas and barbecued steaks. You have my permission to marinate them. Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” I gasped.
“This could be a very pleasant experience for both of us.”
“I bet.”
He pinched me.
I flinched and tears ran down my face.
“You made me do that, Alice. And I enjoyed doing it. Did you enjoy it?”
“No.”
“Then why did you make me do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you like me to do it again?”
“No.”
“I can even do worse. Much worse.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’ll be my good girl?”
“Yes.”
“My sweetheart?”
“Yes.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Yes.”
He pinched me again. I jerked rigid with the pain, and cried out. He squeezed even harder. Writhing, I arched my spine and threw back my head. Tears spilled down my face.
And I felt his tongue.
Even as he kept pinching me, he licked the tears off my cheeks.
Finally, he let go of my nipple. He put his arm around my back and I sagged against him, sobbing. His hand caressed my back gently.
I thought about taking a bite out of his neck.
I could probably kill him if I did it well.
But he had the sword underwater in his right hand. Even mortally wounded, he could kill me with it in an instant.
Just wait, I told myself. Do everything he says. Be his good girl, his sweetheart, his slave, his whore, his anything-he-wants-me-to-be.
Sooner or later, I’ll get him.
I’ll get him good.
He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.
Hasn’t got a clue.
But he’ll find out the hard way.
His hand slid down below the waistband of my panties, and gave my bare buttock a squeeze. “So,” he said, “are we ready to enjoy our party?”
“I’m ready,” I said.
I must’ve said it okay, because he didn’t hurt me.
“Let’s climb out of the pool,” he said. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you. Do everything I tell you to—without hesitation or wisecracks—and we’ll have ourselves a merry time. I might even allow you to live.”
He let go of me, then stepped out of my way and gestured for me to step past him.
As I waded, I looked for Elroy’s head.
I spotted it a couple of yards to my left, hovering just above the tile bottom of the pool, staring straight up as if he were trying to figure the best way of reaching the surface.
Poor bastard.
He’d been a schmuck, but he didn’t deserve this.
I glared at Steve, but kept my mouth shut and waded on past him. At the wall of the pool, I braced myself with both hands and boosted myself up.
Steve swatted me across the ass with the saber.
Crying out, I flung myself over the edge and scurried to my feet. I hobbled away from the pool, clutching my buttocks. They felt as if they’d been lashed, but not slashed. There was no cut. He must’ve used the flat side of the blade.
“Looks count, too,” he informed me.
When I turned around, he was just standing up.
I kept rubbing my butt.
“You didn’t have to kill him,” I said.
“That’s a good one, coming from you.”
I gaped at him. “What’re you talking about?”
“You can’t play innocent with me, honey. I saw what you did last night.”
“What I did?”
“You’re about as cold-blooded as they come.” He smirked. “Maybe that’s why I find myself so strangely attracted to you. Let’s go inside, now. Take me to the kitchen.”
I turned around and saw the trail of blood leading to the den’s open door. “Okay if we go in the other way?” I asked.
“Suit yourself.”
“May I please get dressed?” I asked.
“You may not. I like you just the way you are. Let’s go.”
I led the way alongside the house, stepped behind the table and chairs, and slid open the living-room door. Steve followed me into the house.
Glancing over my shoulder, I asked, “What do you think you saw me do last night?”
“I saw what you did do. Involving the sword and a certain unlucky young man who came to your door.”
“I thought he was you.”
“Isn’t that a fine how-do-you-do?”
“Well, you had me scared.”
Entering the kitchen, I expected to find Elroy’s headless body on the floor. But it wasn’t there. Nor did I see any blood or signs of a struggle.
“Go ahead and marinate the steaks,” Steve said. “I know you prefer them that way.”
“You were spying on us?” I asked, heading for the cupboard where Serena kept her sauces.
“You might say that.”
“Where were you?”
“Trade secret.”
I took down the bottle of teryaki, found a platter, and stepped over to the counter where I’d left the steaks. I tried to pry them apart, but they were still frozen together. “Can you get them apart?” I asked Steve.
“They’ll come apart in the natural course of time.”
“Thanks.”
“That comes perilously close to a wisecrack.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”
“Better watch yourself.”
“I will,” I said. I placed the steaks on the platter, drenched them with teryaki sauce, picked them up rubbed them with both hands to make sure they were wet everywhere, then put them back into the platter.
My hands were dripping with the spicy brown liquid. As I turned toward the sink, Steve said, “Wait. I’ll lick them clean.”
So I held out both my hands, fingers open and spread. Steve licked and sucked them.
It seemed like a weird thing to do—like licking my tears off. But I’ve got to admit, it felt pretty good. Especially when he sucked each one of my fingers all the way into his mouth. In other circumstances, it might’ve been a real turnon. For instance, if someone like Murphy had been doing it to me. With Steve, I was too scared to enjoy it very much.
I had a big worry, for one thing, that he might bite one of my fingers off.
For another, I figured he had terrible plans for me, for later on.
As the last finger slurped out of his mouth, he smiled and said, “Yummy. You’re delicious.”
I almost said, “Eat me,” but stopped myself in the nick of time.
Instead, I said, “Thanks.”
“Now you may go ahead and wash your hands, if you like.”
I turned to the sink. I used soap and hot water on them. While I was drying my hands on a dish towel, Steve buzzed the blender a few times.
Then he said, “Get me out a clean glass. I wouldn’t want to use Elroy’s. Might catch something.”
“Like what?”
“I wouldn’t know. But he must’ve been gravely ill. He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Hilarious, I thought.
Keeping my mouth shut, I took down a clean glass for Steve. He lifted the pitcher of frothy margarita off the blender.
“Do you want salt on your rim?” I asked.
“I take my rims without.”
“Healthier that way.”
He chuckled. “Do you really suppose I’m worried about my health? With my lifestyle, I’m looking forward to a lethal injection—or perhaps a bullet—but certainly not hardening of the arteries.”
“And what lifestyle is that?”
“I like to think of myself as a ‘thrill-killer.’”
“Charming,” I muttered.
“Now, march,” he said.
“Where?”
“Out to the table. It’s time for the Happy Hour.”
I stepped past him and left the kitchen. On our way across the living room, I asked, “Did you get a thrill out of killing Elroy?”
“Not particularly, though it was amusing. I killed him because he was an obstacle in the way of you.”
“Where is he?”
“Here and there.”
“I know where his head is,” I pointed out. “Where’s the rest of him?”
“Already worrying about clean-up?”
“I just want to know.”
“He’s in the guest bathroom.”
“You killed him in the bathroom?”
“Standing at the toilet, as a matter of fact. Took him completely by surprise. I’m afraid his aim got thrown off when he lost his head. Pissed all over the place. But he finally fell into the tub. Would you like to see?”
“No thanks.”