This Darkest Man
Authors: Sinden West
This Darkest Man
by
Sinden West
Copyright
© 2014 Sinden West
All
rights reserved
No
part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without
permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by reviewer, who
may quote short excerpts in a review.
This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover
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“Any
ghosts?” Clay asked with a grin as he set his bag down in the room that I had
just said that he could have. He seemed out of place in the room with its
delicate antiques and faded floral décor.
I
smiled tightly and shook my head, not sure if he were joking or not. This old
farmhouse had enough history to be teeming with them, and strange noises were
not unknown in the night, but more likely it was a sign that the place was
falling down and needed desperate work. I had started on that by hiring the
contractor, but he hadn’t gotten very far because the very first thing that he
had discovered was a grinning, yellowing skeleton in the walls. That put a stop
to all the work and he hadn’t been back since, not even after I told him that
the skeleton was a century old and had been transported to a university to be
studied. But as it turned out, any money I had needed to go toward servicing my
aunt’s debts so I never would have been able to pay him anyway.
The
skeleton left, and Clay arrived. He was a historian and had heard about the
discovery through his connections at the university. He arrived on the doorstep
and intruded on my isolation with his easy going grin and absolute
gorgeousness. He was model-pretty, with the blackest hair that I had ever seen.
I had taken hold of the copy of the book that he handed me that had his name
blazoned across the cover in large letters. He was researching unexpected
findings in old houses in the area and wanted to do a chapter on my skeleton.
What’s more, he wanted to board in the house while he did his research, even
after I explained to him that there was no cell phone reception or Internet.
Even the electricity was intermittent.
Why
did I let him? Me, who avoided people like the plague for fear of saying
something stupid and had lived here in self-imposed exile for the last six
months. I could tell myself that it was the money, because the amount owing on
the property was enormous and there was no way I could pay even a fraction of
what was owed by the deadline.
But
deep down, it was because he was good looking, charming, and smart. All the
things that I wasn’t. He couldn’t have been thirty yet and he already had a PhD
and published several books and academic articles according to the book jacket
of his latest work that he had handed me. I was twenty-three with a mediocre
arts degree. Since college ended I hadn’t even attempted to find a job, and the
only boyfriend that I had ever had had turned out to be the man of nightmares.
So
I went against the shyness and social awkwardness that was ingrained in me, and
invited him, probably flushing with embarrassment as I did so.
“We
eat at seven. Is that all right?” I asked him before I left his room.
“That’s
perfect, Mattie.”
I
frowned. “What?”
His
face relaxed into that easy, gorgeous grin again. “Sorry, Matilda. I thought
Mattie was short for it.”
“Oh,
it is. It’s just…no one’s really ever shortened my name before.” I was always
Matilda. It was a name that evoked images of a virginal, prim, prudish old
maiden aunt and I had hated it for as long as I could remember. I always
thought that Josh enjoyed saying ‘Matilda’ when he reprimanded me. He always
stretched out my name in a way that had me practically shivering with shame at
whatever I had done wrong that time. It was the same with my great aunt,
although as she got older, she tended to forget who I was anyway. I wished that
Josh would as well.
Erin,
my only friend, was the only one whom I didn’t really mind saying my name. She
managed to say it with warmth like she did everything
Clay
was staring at me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I cleared my throat. “I
had better get dinner started.” I turned to leave but he called after me.
“Matilda.”
I
paused and looked back at him just before I stepped into the hallway.
“I
really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It helps the creative juices.”
“You’re
welcome,” I told him before hurrying away. The old wooden stairs creaked as I
walked down them to the kitchen; one day I sure that they would collapse
beneath me. A knocking at the door caught me by surprise. No one ever came
here; it was so far out of the way.
One
of the farmers who rented some of the surrounding land stood at the door. I
always tried to avoid Marie if possible. She was a chatterbox who was always
jovial, and she always made me feel lacking that I did not have the same
friendliness that she had. I preferred her husband, who was the silent type and
only ever waved at me from afar.
“I’ve
just been into town and picked up your mail, honey.” She thrust the small pile
of envelopes toward me. The people at the post office obviously ignored federal
postal laws. But that’s what it was like here. Everyone knew everyone and you
were a newcomer unless your family at lived here for three generations. My
family had been here longer than that, but we were never welcome. My kin were
wealthy landowners, ruthless and greedy they had often lent money to struggling
farmers with high interest and no compassion for those who couldn’t pay. Larsen
was still a dirty word around here. My aunt had never cared though, she still
considered herself a cut above the rest, even though all that money was long
gone and the only thing of value was the land that the house stood on and some
of the surrounding fields which were leased out to Marie and her husband.
“Thank
you.” I took it from her, knowing that I should have invited her in for coffee.
“You’re
welcome. Did you buy yourself a motor bike?” She indicated with her thumb in
the direction of Clay’s shiny black bike that stood in the front yard.
“Oh,
no. It’s just someone inquiring about the skeleton.”
Marie
nodded knowingly. “Some people are so ghoulish. Anyway, if you need any help,
you know where we are!” She waved at me as she stepped off the porch and walked
toward her truck. I flicked through the letters. They were mostly bills, and I
placed the one with the ominous red and black Hellman logo at the back, but one
had Erin’s flowery handwriting on the front. I grinned as I ripped it open. She
was away teaching in France and I missed her terribly. She had befriended me in
college and was the closest friend that I had ever had. Actually, she was
probably the only real friend that I had ever had.
“Hey,
Miss Matilda,
How
are you babe?
Staying
away from nasty Josh I hope? If I find out you’ve let that asshole back in your
life, I’ll jump on the first plane back and deal to him for you”
I
grinned. I had never known how important it was to have someone on your side
before she had made me see sense about Josh. The rest of her letter babbled in
great detail about the hot French men that she’d met and the food. A small bit
of jealousy reared in me. She was so bold and outgoing. I couldn’t imagine ever
just up and going to a foreign country on my own.
There
was another envelope hidden amongst the bills, and I didn’t spot it until I
placed them on the kitchen table. Josh’s strong, upright writing filled my
vision, and I stared at it for so long that the black ink seemed to swirl and
move in front of my eyes. I could just imagine him saying my name and address
as he wrote.
Matilda
would succinctly roll off his tongue and his shiny
white teeth would be revealed. I let the envelope drop.
“Is
everything okay?”
I
jumped, finding Clay standing behind me.
“Um,
yeah.”
He
smiled down at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that you
looked very pale for a moment there.”
I
waved my hand dismissively like it was no big deal. “Sorry, I’m just not used
to having other people around. You took me by surprise.” I gathered up the
letters, making sure that Josh’s was buried within the others so I didn’t have
to see his writing mocking me.
I
was aware of Clay still peering down at me and I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You
looked sick, like you were going to vomit.”
“Oh,
I just, um, got a letter from an ex. It brings back bad memories.” I wiped some
hair out of my face nervously. I really did suddenly feel sick, but that was a
feeling that Josh had frequently brought out in me. Toward the end, it would be
odd to have a day in his company where I didn’t have that feeling.
Clay
took me by surprise when he plucked the letters out of my hand. “And what’s the
name of this unsavory ex.”
“Um,
Josh. Why? I don’t want to read the letter.” Instantly, I felt stupid at how
panicked my voice came out.
Stop being so dumb, Matilda. It’s just a piece
of paper. He can’t hurt you.
His
lips turned up in a kind smile. “Of course you shouldn’t read it. Do you have a
lighter?”
“In
the cupboard above the sink.” I sank down into a chair as I watched him.
He
carefully plucked out Josh’s letter and left the others in a neat pile on the
table, before searching through the cupboard for a lighter. Once he found it,
he set fire to a corner of the envelope and held it above the kitchen sink
while it burned; only dropping it once it nearly reached his fingers.
“There,
all done.” He turned to me with a grin once the fire was extinguished and Josh’s
letter sat as ashes in the sink. “Simple.”
I
let out a slight laugh of disbelief at his boldness. “I can’t believe that I
never thought of that.”
“I
had a girlfriend once who was into all that holistic crap. That’s how she
cleansed herself of bad things, by burning them. She’d do it after every
relationship apparently.” He frowned slightly before his lips turned up in a
mischievous smile. “Actually, after we broke up, she tried to burn down my
apartment.
“What?
That’s crazy.”
“Yeah,
she was definitely crazy.” He pulled out the chair beside me and sat. “So,
Matilda, what do you do around here for fun?”
“Fun?
I read and clean. That’s pretty much it.”
Boring, you are so boring.
I
racked my brain for something interesting to say but came up short, as usual.
“Well,
there sure are a lot of books around here. Your aunt must have loved reading.”
He sounded like he was really interested. Whether he actually was or not, I
couldn’t tell, but I envied people like him, people who could put on social
niceties to win over others whenever circumstances required it. People with
charm, and this Clay Holt had plenty of that.
“They’ve
actually been collected by the family for generations. Some of them are so old
that they should be behind glass but no one’s ever bothered. I guess it’s up to
me now.” His denim-clad knee brushed against mine by accident, and I almost
lost my train of thought at the reminder of his proximity. “Um, I guess I
should get dinner started,” I started to stand, but his hand came to close over
mine.
“Sit,
please? You still look pale. Let me cook you dinner. It’s the least I could do
after showing up unannounced.”
“That’s
not necessary—“
“It
is
.” His hand squeezed mine in a comforting gesture before letting go.
“Sit.” He rose, and his leg brushed against mine again.
He
moved about the kitchen like he owned the place, more comfortable in this
strange house than I was in my own skin. He chatted all the while as he created
an artistic looking pasta dish. “Ta da! What do you think?” He lay the dish
down in front of me.
“Beautiful,”
I told him as he began to grab silverware.
“I
should have brought wine. I’m a terrible guest.” He sat down and began to serve
up.
“Actually,
there’s wine in the cellar. I’ll get it.” I stood and made for the small
doorway that led downstairs. I switched on the light beside the door and there
was a buzzing noise before the stairs were finally illuminated. “This whole
place needs new wiring. I’m scared that every time a light’s turned on that the
house will go up in flames.”
“That
explains all the candles.”
I
jumped. I hadn’t realized that he was right behind me and gave a nervous
giggle.
He
gave me that blinding grin again. “Sorry, I thought I might come down with you
since that’s where the skeleton was found, right?”
“Right.”
God I was stupid, jumping like that. “Just wait until I’m down first. I don’t
trust these stairs with the weight of two people on them.
“No
problem.”
I
started down the stairs, tensing at every creak that they made and as I felt
them move under me with each step that I took. As always, I held my breath
until I reached the safety of the bottom.
“You
weren’t kidding about these stairs!” Clay called as he followed me down. “We
probably shouldn’t be using them.” As he reached the foot of the stairs, his
attention immediately went to the hole in the wall that the contractor had made
and what had served as the resting place for some poor soul for decades. He
walked over to it, casting his eyes around the dark space. “Poor guy. What a
way to go.”
“It
was a lady; they said when they came to collect her. Haven’t you started the
research yet? I’d love to know more about her.”
