Archie turns to me with a curious expression and asks, “Tessie, isn't it? I was wondering if you might happen to know Dan's whereabouts.”
A shiver runs down my spine. How does he know who I am? My mind races as I try to think of an answer. I know exactly where Dan is - trapped in the depths of hell. But I can’t reveal that to everyone. I try my best to remain calm and collected, but my thoughts are in disarray as I feel uneasy.
Mike's voice echoes down the hallway as he interrupts, shouting, “Tessie...Rae…class started two minutes ago!”
Rae tells Archie she will catch up with him later. As Rae and I walk toward the classroom, I still process the fact that Mike intervened in our conversation. I was feeling grateful, I didn't know what to say to Archie. As Rae enters the classroom, Mike pulls the door behind her, ensuring nobody from the class can see us. He leans in and whispers, “Everything ok?” I look up at him and nod my head. I whisper back, “We'll speak later.”
After a long day at college, Mike and I finally arrived home and settled down. We notice that Nate and Cain haven't returned yet, so I start to prepare some delicious pasta for their arrival. Mike puts music on the radio as I gather all the necessary ingredients. The upbeat rhythm fills the kitchen, creating a lively and inviting atmosphere. The aroma of the simmering pasta sauce mixes with the music to create a perfect ambiance.
I start chopping garlic and Mike starts chopping onions. Suddenly, he asks me about the young guy he had seen at college earlier that day. As I answer him, my eyes begin to water a little from the onion fumes. “He was talking to Rae about Dan," I say. "He asked if I knew where Dan was. He even knew my name, which creeped me out.”
Mike's expression turns grim as he tightly clenches his jaw. His voice fills with anger as he demands, “What is his name? I'll make sure Cain knows about this.”
I reach for the cuff of my sleeve to wipe away the tears. With a shaky voice, I manage to say, “His name is Archibald, but I'm afraid I don't know his surname.”
Mike mentions that he has the ability to obtain Archie’s surname from the college system. I take a break from chopping and grab a glass of wine.
I observe Mike still standing at the kitchen counter and I can see his hands moving swiftly, adding various ingredients to the simmering pasta sauce. The room is filled with music and I notice Mike bobbing his head to the beat. After a moment of contemplation, I decide to take a seat at the kitchen table. Summoning my courage, I clear my throat and ask, “So last night…” However, Mike doesn't turn around to face me. He continues to chop vegetables with a sense of hesitation in his voice as he responds, “The screaming, right?”
With a dishcloth casually thrown over his shoulder, he stirs the simmering pasta sauce on the stove before joining me at the table. As he settles into his seat, he reaches for my wine glass, takes a sip, and sits back, sighing.
“Have you ever come across the phrase behind closed doors?” I gaze at him, a tad perplexed, and arch my eyebrows inquisitively before responding, “Yes…”
I gaze at his face and I can see that he is reluctant to discuss the matter at hand. I try to ease the tension by saying, “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.” However, he quickly interjects, placing his hand on the table, gesturing for me to hold it, and says, “No, no. I want to talk about it.”
As he scratches his head, he begins to speak, “When I was younger, my life seemed perfect on paper. My parents had wealth and I grew up in a grand manor house with abundant staff. I had everything a kid could ever dream of having. From the outside, it appeared that I had it all. However, no one really knew what was happening behind closed doors.”
I sit there, my wine glass in hand, attentively listening to him share his past. I can't help but take another sip of my wine as I absorb everything he says.
He continues to speak, his voice trembling slightly. “Around seven, I noticed something happening between my mother and father. My father would drink heavily and it would often lead to arguments and fights. I soon realized he was physically abusing my mother day in and day out. Her body would be black and blue.”
I gently place the half-empty glass of red wine on the table and raise my hand to cover my mouth. My voice quivers as I whisper, “Oh, Mike.”
He continues his story, his voice trembling. “When my little sister was born, we thought things might improve. But my father just continued to be physical and controlling. When I started high school, he also turned his attention to me. I was too scared to fight back. My mother wanted to leave him, but she was afraid to go to the police. She knew he had connections and could easily pay them off. It seemed like there was no way out. But then, the gardener came to our rescue. He saw what was happening and offered to help. Together, he and my mother hatched a plan for us to run away.”
I hold Mike's hand tightly, showing him I'm listening and I care. I notice his eyes start to water and my heart sinks. I can see the pain and sadness in his eyes. My first instinct is to hug him tightly and comfort him, but I know that I need to let him finish speaking first.
He begins to recount his story to me. “It was a regular day and everything seemed normal. The plan was set for that evening to run away and never look back. I went to school as usual, but my mother never came to collect me when the day ended. Confused, I decided to walk home, hoping to find my mother and sister there. However, upon reaching home, the scene that greeted me was far from what I had expected. I could hear the car in the garage and the door was locked. After several attempts, I managed to kick it open and the fumes hit me. The air was thick with the pungent smell of gasoline and I was immediately overcome with fear and panic.”
As his tears flow down his face, I instinctively move closer to him and gently grasp his face with my hands. He sobs uncontrollably, his chest heaving with each breath as I try to comfort him with soothing words and a reassuring touch. “He found out about our plan! He locked my mother and little sister in the car with a hosepipe attached to the exhaust. They died slowly!” he cries out.
“Oh my–” I sob.
The emotions overwhelm me and I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. Mike's tears keep falling and our tears mingle as we share this intense feeling.
Mike slumps down from his chair. I draw him close to me, cradling his head against my chest. His shoulders heave with sobs, his breaths coming in gasps.
Mike’s head moves away from my chest and I notice his teary eyes have now turned into a fierce rage. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth before blurting out words that sting like a sharp knife, "My father was a coward. He took his own life with a gun—a quick death. Death was too good for that cunt. He should have died slowly like they did. I could have saved them!”
he screams.
I sit there in silence, crying with him.
Through his tears, he manages to choke out the words, “My father sensed something was going on. The gardener...he told my father...he told him the plan...to save his own life!”
Mike's face contorts with anger as he sits up. He grits his teeth and declares with a determined voice, “I got my revenge on him for giving up my mother and sister. I killed him with his gardening shears straight to the throat. I had the pleasure of doing it. Nate and Cain helped me hide his body.”
I should be feeling terrified after hearing his words, but instead, I find myself holding him tightly. Tears stream down my face as I weep with him. The thought of what he must have endured is unimaginable, yet I only want to offer comfort and support in that moment.
We both stand up and embrace each other tightly. I can feel the warmth of his body against mine and I know I never want to let him go. With conviction in his voice, he whispers to me, “I have witnessed too many people that I care about die when I could have saved them. That includes when I was in the army, too. I promise you, I won't let that happen to you, Tessie.”
I meet his gaze and the words slip out of my mouth, “What happened to your mother and sister was terrible. It's not always possible to save everyone. You did everything you could, Mike. Please don't blame yourself.” As I finish my sentence, he leans in and kisses me, a reassuring touch that makes me feel safe.
“Do you think I’m a monster?” he cries.
“Not even close,” I reply, wiping his tears away.
Mike leans in and whispers, “Take my mind off it.” His voice is soft and comforting as I can feel his warm breath on my neck.
NATE
I enter the house and a strange stillness greets me. I can sense that Mike and Tessie are around somewhere. The silence is soon broken as I walk into the kitchen. Tessie is bent over the kitchen counter with one leg up while Mike pounds her from behind. The room is charged with the intensity of their intimacy and I can't help but feel like an intruder in this private moment.
“Jesus! Not near the food!” I exclaim.
Mike suddenly turns his head around and shoots me a sly grin. He scoops Tessie in his arms and carries her off to their bedroom, leaving me with a mixture of amusement and envy. I shake my head and approach the stove, calling them, “Don't worry, I'll finish making dinner, then!”
