My bed was littered with the papers from the file. On the top of each sheet was the name "C. Clarke" written atop a thick swipe of white-out. Most of the dates on the bottom were from about three years ago. Ellis had to know about Charles's past before he hired him. A knot formed in my throat as I read deeper.
Words like "mantic outbursts" and "bipolar disorder" "unstable" were gut-wrenching to me. Who the hell was this man?
I glanced down at the manila folder that was tossed to the floor. A piece of paper peeked out from its corner. I scooted off the bed and pulled the paper out. This one was different than the rest. It wasn't from the mental institution. It was from a hospital and the date on the bottom was from five years ago. The name on the top said, Clarissa Clark. I read down the page over all of the unimportant medical information. My eyes stopped mid-page at the words "attempted suicide?" Yes, there was a question mark. It was as though the doctor had no idea what happened to Clarissa. I read further down and it explained the large cut down her arms, how many stitches she needed, and so on.
I shoved all of the papers back into their rightful place. My head was spinning. Was I the only one thinking Charles was a psycho? Ellis had to know, he couldn't be that dense. But who was I to ask him about it? What if I'm completely wrong? My mind began to wander, then, to Ryland. Oh god, Ryland. He saw me snooping. He's going to tell Charles and then he'll definitely know I'm the one that stole from him.
My skin grew warm and perspiration covered my arms. I had to set things straight. Tell Ryland I was just dropping off the check and that's it. I put it in the drawer and nothing more. Or, maybe I tell him what I found. Tell him that Charles is dangerous. I paced my room knowing that sounded completely ridiculous, even more so when I thought about it. I snatched up my car keys. I had to tell him something, anything.
Scurrying to Ellis's office, I found the emergency contact list that he left for me. At the top of the list was Mark Pierce. I only hoped he would be home to tell me where Ryland lived. I entered the address into my phone and hurried to my truck. Why I was in such a panic, I didn't really know. Maybe it was my adrenaline kicking in from what I just read. All of the words on those pages swirling around my head. I shook them from my mind. I had to focus on only one thing, clearing my name.
Mark Pierce's house was so quaint. Nothing like the Clarke's or Ellis's. A white fence lined the property and the house sat on a small lot with two other houses right next to it. I had to park outside the fence a few feet away because their driveway was blocked off with tape after getting repaved. I walked up the edge of the driveway. An American flag poked out from the side of the garage. The wooden porch creaked under my feet. A small yellow rocking chair, with an unreadable name in white paint across the back of it, sat next to the black door. This place felt like an actual home. Not a palace.
Just as I was about to knock on the door, it swung open. Mark gasped in fear, holding his hand over his heart.
"Talia... Hello." He tried to catch his breath, steadying himself by holding onto the door frame.
"Hi, Mr. Pierce." He looked so casual in basketball shorts and a black tank top. Obviously not going into work today.
"Sorry, you startled me." He finally got a hold of himself and smiled. "Can I help you with something?"
"I just need you to tell me where Ryland lives."
"He lives here," he said with a cocked head.
"Oh, he does?"
"He should be home soon, he just called me. I'm heading out to the gym. But, you could wait for him in his room if you would like."
"Sure. Thanks." I walked inside while he walked onto the porch.
"I'll be back in a little bit, okay?" He said fumbling with his keys.
"Yeah. See you later."
Mark closed the door, leaving me alone in their house. A carpeted staircase to my right and living room to my left. A bunch of family photos covered the walls: Graduation pictures of Ryland and pictures of Mark and Ellis. I walked up the stairs reluctantly.
Am I overstepping some kind of boundary? Do I even care? Not at all.
I walked through the first door I saw. A large bed with a white bedspread sat in the center of the room. Two brown nightstands on either side of it. A bookshelf with various chemistry and biology textbooks sat on the opposite wall. This had to be his room. I pictured it a lot different though. I expected clothes to be laying on the floor and sports-themed wallpaper. But this wasn't a room for a seven-year-old and the walls were ivory with nothing on them and a pair of Nike sneakers sat on the floor.
I examined the picture that sat on the nightstand. It was Ryland as a child in the arms of a woman, who I'm assuming was his mother. Before I could admire it any longer, I slammed the picture down at the echo of a voice, no voices, outside the door. Ryland. But there's someone else. A girl. The girl giggled and snorted. Oh my god, that's Kristen.
I scrambled around the room. I was going to look like such a creep if the two of them found me.
Oh my god, they're definitely going to benefit.
At that moment, I did what any sane person would do... I hid under the bed.
It was a lot tighter than I thought as I pushed myself under. The springs under the mattress scraped against my back. The door flew open. My breath choked in my throat.
Their legs entwined together. Laughing, they fell onto the bed. The mattress crushed me, causing that breath to escape my lips.
Get out of here!
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't move. I felt every movement of the mattress on my back. Falling right in front of my eyes was a red lace bra. Classy. I wanted to roll my eyes, until the mattress began to smash against me in rhythmic intervals.
Oh, God! Oh, God!
But that didn't come from the voice in my head. That was Kristen. I tried to move my hands to cover my ears, but they were lodged under my chest. I had to hear everything. Endure every agonizing moment.
Every stroke. Every slap of skin against skin. Every cry of pleasure from her. Every moan and grunt from him. Every orgasm. And then, again, every orgasm. It all rang in my ears like a swarm of a thousand bees and I couldn't do anything about it.
The two fucked like rabbits. I was surprised when Ryland suggested going a third time. Did his dick not fall off?
I was under that bed for what felt like an eternity, but more realistically two hours. When they left the room to shower together, I made my escape. I struggled to get free from my hiding spot, but I did it. I ran out of the room, but not before Kristen bra got tangled around my big toe. I gagged in disgust as I kicked it off. Running through their yard, my truck was finally in sight. I started it up and drove down the road, passing by Mark's Range Rover. Perfect timing.
***
It took me a couple of days to get those sounds out of my head and multiple showers to rid my body of their pheromone stench. I knew it was all in my head, but I felt dirty. I stepped out of my second shower that day and wrapped the white plush towel around my waist. My fingers combed through my tangled hair. I spent about an extra hour in the bathroom, moisturizing, brushing my hair, just relaxing things. I needed to destress. Ever since I came to this damn place, my life has been a continuous downward spiral into drama and stress, and I just didn't want to deal with it anymore.
I slipped out of the towel and threw on an oversized Oak Grove Community College t-shirt. It made me think about how nice it would be to attend Harbor View University. That school was definitely a step up and could open more future doors for me. I spent my night lost on the internet looking up pictures of the university and the classes they offered. And, for shits and giggles, I filled out the online application. Even if I got in, I probably wouldn't go. Well, maybe. I don't know.
My stomach growled causing me to look at the clock on the wall. It was eleven at night. But, that didn't mean it was too late for one of the chef's desserts that he kept in the back of the fridge. I emerged from my room but stopped at the top of the stairs when I heard people talking. I assumed it was the TV. That is until I leaned my head over the railing and looked into the living room. Ellis sat on the couch next to Clarissa. She smiled at him and he laughed at something she had just said. She placed her hand on his knee and laughed some more. Her thumb stroked his skin. He glanced down at her hand and then covered it with his own. Ellis mumbled something and stood, turning towards the stairs. I ducked behind the wall. I crawled back into my room before I could see anything more.