Something Fierce (24 page)

Seth heard himself talking about his brief time with a film company in L.A. that produced low-budget movies. “The turnover was so high,” he said, trying to reconnect with the group, to be part of the evening again, “that everyone started as a temp. If you survived, you got promoted to fulltime.”

“What were you hired as?” Christina wanted to know.

“My official title was Office Coordinator,” Seth said, “which unofficially translated to ‘scapegoat.’” He let himself get into the story and telling it was a nice distraction. He even began to enjoy it. Everyone in the room was enjoying it too and that fed him until he was part of them again. Kerri refilled his wine glass as he brought to life an office where the entire support staff—receptionists, personal assistants, office workers, even computer technicians—were wannabe actors, writers, and directors while working sixty hours a week on a low-paying job that they hadn’t the slightest interest in or talent for. “The actors were the worst. They were always trying to get noticed, like some producer was going to walk in, see them emptying the trash and make them America’s next superstar.”

There were plenty of places he could go from here, so many characters and stories to choose from. This well of experience, in fact, was where he drew the characters that filled his second, unfinished novel. He missed writing that novel. He missed writing period and yet he felt himself drifting further and further away from it. He chose a story involving an actress—a real dough-head, as his mom would say—hired to be the receptionist. Her name was Daffodil.

“Daffodil?” Dylan asked.

“Daffodil,” Seth said. “Not the smoothest whiskey on the shelf, but she knew she had to distinguish herself from the other pretty girls in the office. So she wore a different hat every day. I made it three months and never saw the same hat twice.”

As he was building to the climax of the story—the day Daffodil peed her pants—Kerri left his side. She left the room entirely. This troubled him. Rather than assuming that she was going to the restroom or out to the kitchen for something, he felt that she was purposely taking the opportunity to slip away from him, to visit a separate life that she kept from him, one that she made sure he knew nothing about.

From the moment she’d left him, he’d been of two minds, one telling a story to her family and the other wondering where she was and looking for an excuse to go in search of her. He worked hard to focus. “Well, that day I had completely forgotten to cover the front desk so Daffodil could go on break,” he said, “and by the time I got to her, she was sobbing.”

Bethany, mouth agape, said, “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Rather than leave the phones for ten minutes, the bonehead just sat there and wet her pants. And to make matters worse, she chose that day to be wearing a red, yellow, and orange beanie with a propeller.”

“Oh, the poor dear!” Kerri’s mother said, burying her face in her hands.

“I felt guilty for leaving her stranded and was trying to come up with a way to sneak her out before anyone noticed and then the phone rang.” Seth snapped his fingers. “Just like that she turned off the tears and answered like she was overcome with joy. ‘It’s a wonderful afternoon at Pristine Pictures,’ she said, ‘my name is Daffodil. How can I assist you today?’”

Everyone laughed and shook their heads and asked him questions…and still, the bigger part of his mind was preoccupied with Kerri’s whereabouts. The anxiousness, the frustration he’d been feeling for the past several weeks was back. She was up to something. He felt it.

Even when he was no longer in the spotlight, getting away wasn’t easy. It seemed that everyone wanted to talk with him. Kerri’s Uncle Ron and her cousin’s wife, Sarah, both made a point of telling him what a positive influence he was on Kerri and that they were glad she’d found someone so well suited to her. “She’s so damned smart,” her uncle said. “She needs a guy a little older than her.”

But Seth was a lot older than her and he couldn’t say the positive influence was mutual. His life was falling apart, his mind was unraveling and he didn’t know how to stop it. He wasn’t blaming Kerri exactly, but it was as if the madness of the passion that he’d once cherished between them was turning to just plain madness. Things didn’t add up, didn’t make sense, and yet, when he tried to point to something, it wasn’t there or seemed like an exaggeration on his part. This whole “separate life” that he imagined Kerri led was a good example. It was something he felt instinctually but had no proof of whatsoever. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have needed proof; he would have listened to his instincts and acted accordingly.

But that wasn’t easy to do when you were sure of nothing, when you loved and craved a woman that you couldn’t seem to trust, when you could not sleep, when you could not sleep, when you could not
fucking sleep
, when you were depressed and underemployed, when you knew your job was ending soon and you had nothing else lined up, when you couldn’t remember what day it was, when you called yourself a writer but didn’t write, when you knew you were drinking too much but kept drinking anyway, when you kept losing things, forgetting things, making accusations that always, always, always turned out to be false.

Kerri had been gone for over half an hour when Seth couldn’t stand it anymore. Though Christina was asking him something about Europe, he abruptly cut her off and excused himself from the living room. He took the last swallow of wine and put a little more in his glass from a bottle on the kitchen table when he heard Rebecca’s voice behind him. “I’m sorry about the fiasco at dinner.”

“No, no,” he said, anxious to keep moving, “I’m just glad she’s feeling better.”

“Awww,” she said, coming up to him and touching his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” She was drunk and standing so close he could smell the wine on her breath. “Trust me. As long as my mommy is the center of attention, she is feeling fantastic!”

Seth didn’t know what to say to this. “Have you seen Kerri?”

She shook her head no. He realized she was wearing one of Kerri’s blouses and for the first time, he noticed how much Kerri resembled her mother. Their eyes were similarly shaped. They had the same mouth. “How’s my little girl treating you anyway?”

“Good,” he said. “Speaking of, I should try to find her.”

She stopped him by touching his arm and smiled. “Oh honey, you can tell me the truth. I know she’s a handful.”

“We’ve had a few bumps in the road lately,” he said, “but things are okay.”

“I hope so. I like having you around.”

“Thank you,” he said, uncomfortably, and excused himself. He checked the two bathrooms on the main floor. Then he went upstairs, checking the third bathroom and Kerri’s bedroom. His mind was racing now. He almost wanted her to be up to no good so he could catch her, so he could know something, anything for sure.

He headed for the fourth bathroom in the den downstairs. Someone said something to him as he went back through the living room but he pretended not to hear them. He started down the stairs that led to the den and stopped midway, listening. He heard Kerri’s voice but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He moved quickly then to the bottom of the stairs and saw her sitting on one of the leather couches, snapping shut her cell phone and shoving it into her pocket. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“What’s going on?”

“What are you doing down here? Why aren’t you upstairs?”

“I just needed to get away for a few minutes. I love my family but they wear me out sometimes.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“No one.”

“Wrong number?”

“I wasn’t on the phone.”

“I heard you.”

“You must have heard the TV.” She nodded toward the television which was quietly playing a nature program. “I wasn’t on the phone.”

“I saw you closing it and putting it in your pocket when I came down.”

“I was checking my messages.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Even as he took this stand, he realized that he wasn’t
sure
that it was Kerri’s voice he’d heard. It might have been the female narrator on the television.

She looked concerned. “How much wine have you had tonight?”

Too much, he thought, but was not about to be sidetracked. “Who were you talking to?”

“Hey, you two,” Rebecca slurred as she came down the steps, stopping part way. “Get your butts upstairs! Everyone is leaving.”

Kerri looked at Seth. “We’re coming,” she said.

“Well, hurry up! If I have to come back down there, I’m bringing the wooden spoon,” she said, “and using it on
both
of you!”

When Rebecca was out of sight, Kerri stood up. “We’ll discuss this later.”

Seth blocked her from going up the stairs. “Give me the phone.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“No, you don’t, but if we leave this room without you showing me your phone history, I’m going to keep walking right out that door and out of your life forever. I won’t give you the time of day after that.”

Darkness came into her eyes, or maybe it was sorrow. “Who
are
you? Who have you become?”

Realizing that he could not honestly answer either of those questions, he felt sad and scared. And angry. Mostly angry.

Kerri put her hand on his wine glass. “Please don’t drink anymore tonight.”

When he realized that he didn’t want any more, he let her take the glass from him and sit it on an end table. She moved to go past him and he countered her again. “Last chance,” he said.

“
W
hose last chance
?” she asked, off guard, not sure how else to respond. “Mine or yours?”

He glared at her and it was all she could do not to flinch, not to reveal the sudden terror she felt because he’d never given her an ultimatum before. She saw something in his eyes she’d never seen. It was as if some part of him, some powerful, pissed off part of himself had pushed aside the drunkenness and confusion and was right in her face, calling her a fake, a phony, plucking her secret fears like guitar strings and making demands.

If she backed down here, she would lose control. He would call the shots from here on out so she went around him and up the steps, playing it cool. But she was not cool at all because she knew if he left here tonight with that look in his eyes, he wouldn’t come back. She was sure of it. Somehow, someway she could not let that happen.

At the top of the steps, she couldn’t move any farther into the foyer because it was crowded with everyone putting on their coats and saying their goodbyes. She felt Seth behind her and then shove past her. She grabbed onto his shoulder and said, loud enough for others to hear, “No, honey, you can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Seth looked at her with hatred in his eyes. It cut her deeper than anyone had ever cut her before. “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said. “I’m calling a taxi.”

Uncle Ron offered to drive him home.

“Thank you,” Seth said, “but it’s too far out of your way.”

“Not at all,” Christina said. “Besides a cab this far out will be ridiculously expensive.”

Oh, how Kerri despised that girl. Kerri countered with, “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Absolutely,” Rebecca agreed. “We’ve got four couches in this house and one of them pulls out into a bed.”

Seth looked at Kerri, then to Mother. “Thank you, Rebecca, but I really have to go home tonight. I have a meeting early tomorrow morning and everything I need for the meeting is at the house.”

“It’s not that far out of our way, is it Dad?” Christina said, looking at Seth, trying to sweeten the deal with a smile.

“Hell no,” Uncle Ron said. “If you insist on going home, Seth, I insist on driving you. End of discussion.”

“Well, alright then,” Seth said. “Thank you. Let me grab my coat.”

Kerri couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even move. If he walked out that door—

No. No, that would not happen. She would not let that happen. Still standing on the landing at the top of the steps, she grabbed onto Seth’s shoulder. “Hey, you!” she said in a voice she frantically tried to make sound light and playful for their audience. “Where’s my kiss?”

When Seth pulled his arm free of her grip, she purposely, deliberately took a step backwards…

There was a flash of the ceiling, the side of her head banging off of the iron banister, someone screaming, her body tumbling over and over, the back of her head cracking against the hardwood floor at the bottom of the stairs, a bright spark behind her eyes, frenzied, far off voices, a dimming of the light.

“Impulsive,” Dr. Dipshit scolded her from the gathering darkness. “Reckless.”

Fade out.

Fade in. Seth. Over her. Touching her face. Telling her she would be okay. Looking worried. Her head hurt so badly she had to close her eyes. Someone was reciting her address in an anxious, loud voice. “Yes, she seems to be conscious but not responding.” Sarah. Fucking Sarah. “Keep talking to her,” she shouted. “But don’t move her.” Fade out.

Fade in.

“Kerri, look at me!” Seth was saying and she remembered the time he put his hand over her heart. “Look at me!”

Her head hurt so much, but she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m right here.”

“Promise.”

“Promise,” he said.

She let herself go then, sinking beneath the pain and into the darkness. “I love you, Seth,” she said.

Fade out.

I
n the darkness
, Seth felt the stirring begin, that faint tickling sensation, building, spinning upward, then spilling over and rippling through his body with a delicious rush of chills, peaking and then gently subsiding like waves moving out to sea. He opened his eyes. The room was lit only by the moon coming through the windows, bright and full. “Such a perfect cock,” Kerri said, kneeling between his legs. “Promise you will never give it to anyone else,” she whispered, angling down, gently taking one of his balls into her mouth and suddenly clamping it between her teeth. Her gaze went cold and a blast of adrenaline shot through his body, warning him how vulnerable he was under the strength of her jaws and the sharpness of her teeth, of the terrible power she had, of the irreversible damage she could do in an instant. He moved to push her off of him when he realized his wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the bedposts.