The pianist led a double life.
For all his grand philosophies on satisfaction, and how it was best delayed, sometimes the urge was too strong. The need too great. There were groups for this kind of thing. There were groups for all kinds of addicts, but Cedric would not attend. As much as he knew he should abstain, his sordid escapades were serving several purposes.
One, he needed to feed.
Two, the women were willing, and the satisfaction was always great.
They took him home with him. Sometimes, they took him to hotels or motels. Sometimes, they were wives, or girlfriends, but they were seduced by him. By the music, or the accent. By the smile, which was rarely given, and was disarming when unleashed. Whenever he booked into the motels and hotels, it was always under an alias. It was always with their credit cards. The women always laughed; they thought he was referencing Christian Grey, though they didn’t notice the spelling. Gray, not Grey. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t take that elevator with him. They would not slip that key so willingly into that keyhole; they would not look at that sparse hotel room as if it offered them anything other than disgrace.
Laurie Shears reminded Cedric of his wife. Slight of frame, she had a face that held all the wonders of the universe within its gaze. Eyes as blue as a sky in spring, wide, framed by dark lashes and perfectly sculpted brows and cheekbones. Those eyes never could tell a lie; they smiled when she smiled, and sparked when she flared. Her anger was a force to be reckoned with, words enunciated by plump lips, highlighted by that single, tantalising dimple in the middle of the lower pout. Curls framed her face, brunette and always soft, always glossy. She was such a fragile creature, but she soon learned to be strong. The last time Cedric had seen her, her expression had been hard. Her eyes were flint, her mouth pressed thin - as if she knew exactly what he loved about her, and refused to ever let him see her smile again.
That was how he would always remember her.
Except Laurie Shears reminded Cedric of his wife. Laurie Shears laughed for him, and he could not resist. She was the first name on his list; the first number he called. The last week and a half, she had not answered. He hadn’t thought much of it.
The smart phone buzzed non-urgently beside the til. Cedric was closing the Cocoa Bean for the night. The number was one he did not recognise, but he answered anyway.
“Cedric,” his name was gasped, a painful breath of air.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Laurie, Cedric. I… I’m pregnant,” she said. Something wasn’t right with her voice. She was hesitant. That was to be expected. But there was something else. Cedric wanted to question her, but the flow of his voice caught in his throat as Laurie screamed.
“Something’s wrong, Cedric. I didn’t know what to do. Please… please help me,” she gasped. There was another scream.
Cedric stared at the phone. Pregnant? No. She didn’t know who he was. He hadn’t given her his name. She didn’t know that he now owned several businesses; he had met her at one of the other clubs, when he was saving for to start his own. He didn’t owe her anything. The phone went blank as he put his head in his hands, staring at the rings of permanent condensation in the wood of the bar. Closing his eyes, he could see Alaya. He could feel his daughter clinging to his leg, as if she were there with him, now. He heard her laughter, and his jaw clenched.
The money was stashed in the safe, and the door hastily locked behind him. Laurie had been one of the ones to take him home. To her home. She lived alone with her cat, but she was fiercely independent. Some nights, he didn’t feed. Some nights, he only slept with her, because he wanted her to remember. He wanted to be able to come back. But… pregnant? Was that possible? Could it…?
Within twenty minutes, he was there. His boots thudded against the pavement as he walked through the gate and up the steps to her porch. He knocked. The lights were on inside. Her car was in the driveway. Inside, he heard another muffled scream. With preternatural strength, it didn’t take much to shoved the locked door open. He took the steps two at a time up to the bedroom. What he witnessed had him immediately reeling backwards.
She reminded him so much of his wife. There was his wife, her eyes bloodshot as her clawed fingers reached for him. But it was too late. Far, far too late. He’d arrived only in time to see her die. There was a sickening crack, a tear, a rendering of the spine. Laurie’s body was snapped in two as the monster emerged from her stomach. It unfurled like a demon out of hell, sucking all the light from the room. A monstrosity of unhinged imagination.
Cedric might have shouted as he stumbled backwards; as the creature’s unearthly gaze settled upon him. He lingered only a few seconds more, watching as a passerby might watch a dead body being wheeled from a car crash. But then he had to avert his gaze. He had to run from the monster. He had to run from the implications. He had done this. She was pregnant, and it was his baby. That… thing. That was his baby.
In the driver’s seat of his car, his phone buzzed across the dashboard.
Terri.
The second name on the list.
What the **** have I done?
For all his grand philosophies on satisfaction, and how it was best delayed, sometimes the urge was too strong. The need too great. There were groups for this kind of thing. There were groups for all kinds of addicts, but Cedric would not attend. As much as he knew he should abstain, his sordid escapades were serving several purposes.
One, he needed to feed.
Two, the women were willing, and the satisfaction was always great.
They took him home with him. Sometimes, they took him to hotels or motels. Sometimes, they were wives, or girlfriends, but they were seduced by him. By the music, or the accent. By the smile, which was rarely given, and was disarming when unleashed. Whenever he booked into the motels and hotels, it was always under an alias. It was always with their credit cards. The women always laughed; they thought he was referencing Christian Grey, though they didn’t notice the spelling. Gray, not Grey. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t take that elevator with him. They would not slip that key so willingly into that keyhole; they would not look at that sparse hotel room as if it offered them anything other than disgrace.
_____________________________
Laurie Shears reminded Cedric of his wife. Slight of frame, she had a face that held all the wonders of the universe within its gaze. Eyes as blue as a sky in spring, wide, framed by dark lashes and perfectly sculpted brows and cheekbones. Those eyes never could tell a lie; they smiled when she smiled, and sparked when she flared. Her anger was a force to be reckoned with, words enunciated by plump lips, highlighted by that single, tantalising dimple in the middle of the lower pout. Curls framed her face, brunette and always soft, always glossy. She was such a fragile creature, but she soon learned to be strong. The last time Cedric had seen her, her expression had been hard. Her eyes were flint, her mouth pressed thin - as if she knew exactly what he loved about her, and refused to ever let him see her smile again.
That was how he would always remember her.
Except Laurie Shears reminded Cedric of his wife. Laurie Shears laughed for him, and he could not resist. She was the first name on his list; the first number he called. The last week and a half, she had not answered. He hadn’t thought much of it.
The smart phone buzzed non-urgently beside the til. Cedric was closing the Cocoa Bean for the night. The number was one he did not recognise, but he answered anyway.
“Cedric,” his name was gasped, a painful breath of air.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Laurie, Cedric. I… I’m pregnant,” she said. Something wasn’t right with her voice. She was hesitant. That was to be expected. But there was something else. Cedric wanted to question her, but the flow of his voice caught in his throat as Laurie screamed.
“Something’s wrong, Cedric. I didn’t know what to do. Please… please help me,” she gasped. There was another scream.
Cedric stared at the phone. Pregnant? No. She didn’t know who he was. He hadn’t given her his name. She didn’t know that he now owned several businesses; he had met her at one of the other clubs, when he was saving for to start his own. He didn’t owe her anything. The phone went blank as he put his head in his hands, staring at the rings of permanent condensation in the wood of the bar. Closing his eyes, he could see Alaya. He could feel his daughter clinging to his leg, as if she were there with him, now. He heard her laughter, and his jaw clenched.
The money was stashed in the safe, and the door hastily locked behind him. Laurie had been one of the ones to take him home. To her home. She lived alone with her cat, but she was fiercely independent. Some nights, he didn’t feed. Some nights, he only slept with her, because he wanted her to remember. He wanted to be able to come back. But… pregnant? Was that possible? Could it…?
Within twenty minutes, he was there. His boots thudded against the pavement as he walked through the gate and up the steps to her porch. He knocked. The lights were on inside. Her car was in the driveway. Inside, he heard another muffled scream. With preternatural strength, it didn’t take much to shoved the locked door open. He took the steps two at a time up to the bedroom. What he witnessed had him immediately reeling backwards.
She reminded him so much of his wife. There was his wife, her eyes bloodshot as her clawed fingers reached for him. But it was too late. Far, far too late. He’d arrived only in time to see her die. There was a sickening crack, a tear, a rendering of the spine. Laurie’s body was snapped in two as the monster emerged from her stomach. It unfurled like a demon out of hell, sucking all the light from the room. A monstrosity of unhinged imagination.
Cedric might have shouted as he stumbled backwards; as the creature’s unearthly gaze settled upon him. He lingered only a few seconds more, watching as a passerby might watch a dead body being wheeled from a car crash. But then he had to avert his gaze. He had to run from the monster. He had to run from the implications. He had done this. She was pregnant, and it was his baby. That… thing. That was his baby.
In the driver’s seat of his car, his phone buzzed across the dashboard.
Terri.
The second name on the list.
What the **** have I done?
