His Favorite Sin

FOUR

ALL THAT WAS LOST

Nine Years Ago

Hannah had told me things; a lot of things; about the bodies that had been found buried in the woods surrounding the Dvoraks’ mansion, the same woods I pass through every time I make my way up here. My skin prickled with chills just from the thought of it.

Every investigation that had been launched surrounding the Dvoraks’ mansion always concluded with the same speech – ‘“...a victim of a wild animal attack.” We’ve barely ever seen any “wild animals” here!’ Hannah had snapped. ‘Also, I’m pretty sure wild animals can’t bury their human victims. Seriously, do they think we’re stupid?’

I distinctly recall Mr. Dvorak mentioning wild animals being present in those woods and him being strict with the curfew.

‘We’re not supposed to be talking about this.’ Derek muttered as we three walked together down a small pathway in the small park of the town. He had been mostly quiet while Hannah talked, and I could see how uncomfortable he was with the discussion, his eyes darting around anxiously as if he were a fugitive cautious of being monitored.

‘I can talk whatever the f**k I want to, and anyone dissatisfied with my words can go suck it!’ Hannah flipped her hair unapologetically, coffee in one hand and her phone in another, which she used to take a quick selfie of us three before we resumed walking. ‘Great. Derek ruined the shot.’

‘Are you sure it’s not just wild animals?’ I asked before she and Derek could get into another bickering.

She shrugged, ‘Could be, but those wild animals must worship Mr. Dvorak because they only attack those who go against him or locals who refuse to sell their lands.’ I was taken aback, and she luckily went ahead to clarify after taking a sip of her coffee.

‘Old Johnny Thomas once owned this little piece of land that was part of numerous other parcels that Mr. Dvorak was trying to acquire to expand his cattle farm. A few wouldn’t sell, including John. He never liked Mr. Dvorak prior to that, and I’ve heard him cuss out Mr. Dvorak, even called him a wolf in tailored suits, a polished predator, etc. A man like that would never have stepped foot near the Dvoraks’ home, but somehow, he was found in those same woods after the rain had unearthed his body. As usual, the cops ruled it another “wild animal attack.” A month later, with John Thomas gone, it was easy for Mr. Dvorak to purchase the land from his next of kin, and he got his cattle farm.’

‘You think Mr. Dvorak killed him?’

‘Everyone thinks so.’

A heavy feeling settled on my chest when my eyes shifted to Derek, who still appeared fidgety but didn’t disagree with Hannah’s words.

‘If there are so many murders happening around him, why wasn’t he investigated or arrested?’

‘Are you kidding? Look around, he owns all these.’ She gestured to our surroundings, including the park and the local businesses in our line of sight. ‘He owns the whole town,’ she added quietly.

When I first came for the interview, Mr. Dvorak explained that the reason he didn’t have many applicants for my current job was due to some ill rumor going around about him. I hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

I didn’t care for the truth, just my life, and I was ready to rush back to the mansion, pack my things, leave an apology note, and get the hell out of there for good. But in the process of packing my clothes, Mr. Dvorak arrived home and asked Anna, their maid, to get me. Filled with dread, I reluctantly made my way to his studies. I was unprepared when he handed me a check for my salary, in advance. My eyes nearly popped out of my eye socket looking at the amount on the paper.

‘A whole year in advance?’

He laughed heartily, ‘That’s a month. That was the amount we agreed on when you first came here, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but I thought it was for a year’s salary...’ He chuckled again.

‘Lance likes you. He’s had it rough this year, but I can see him more relaxed around you. You’re doing great. I’m happy I hired you.’ I was stunned speechless. A minute ago, I was ready to pack my things and run for the hills, but now that would mean rejecting this generous check, and I really needed the money. This sum was just impossible to return when it was already in your hands.

‘Thank you, Mr. Dvorak.’ I said instead, shutting out the voice in the back of my head saying otherwise.

Dazed, I slowly turned, making my way out when Mr. Dvorak stopped me.

‘Oh, and Dahlia?’ He held my gaze as I turned back to him. ‘I was serious when I said you could call me Ben.’ And with that, he dismissed me again. I staggered out of that room, dumbfounded as I tried collecting my thoughts. Mr. Dvorak had been nothing but kind to me from the start, and perhaps I had misunderstood him. He had let me into his home and was generous to me. So far, he had given me no reason to dislike him, and yet, I had been skeptical about him and even thought him weird. But he wasn’t. I had just been weirded out by how amiable he was when I was used to the notion that the rich and powerful were disgusting snobs.

If I had been wrong about him, Hanna and Derek could be wrong about him also. He was a very wealthy and influential man, living in the most secluded part of this little town, and that gave him so much privacy from others. They didn’t know him well, so there could be jealousy, contempt, malice; of course, gossip would begin to form.

But what if I wasn’t wrong?

*******

Present

The scent of Drew’s lavender body wash had always eased me into a state of calmness before we slept whenever we cuddled at night in bed. I could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest below me while he had one muscular arm loosely holding me close. My eyes strayed up to admire his face as he slept quietly, and I was tempted to reach out and trace the sharp angles of his jaw with my fingers. Instead, I sighed and silently peeled myself from him to get out of bed.

Making sure not to wake him up, I took one last peek at him before going over to the desk in the corner, picked up the piled pieces of documents on it, and then sneaked out without a sound. I easily navigated my way through the dark and made it to my little balcony, where the air was welcoming and the moon luminescent. Crammed into the corner was a lounge bench with strings of little light bulbs lined above it, perfect to sit and relax while I propped both my feet on the soft cushions.

The city’s scenery and its many lights had always been breathtaking, with the high-rise buildings particularly eye-catching, lit up like Christmas trees. As a kid, I had always dreamt of living in a big city with an exciting job that allowed me to explore and wander about like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada. But then, as I grew older, I realized I preferred fiction to magazines.

Well, I did fulfill my dream of being in a big city, just not the way I wanted it to go.

If you had lived the same way that I had, you would roll through chapters of misery brought about by mental distress. First, it was fear; fear of being caught, of never being able to truly hide away from what I was running from. The Dvoraks, being who they were, must have eyes everywhere, so how do you hide away from people like that? Seemed like an impossible task. So, for a long time, I believed they were just playing a game of cat and mouse, where the cat played with its prey before pouncing. I couldn’t believe I really got away.

The thing about living with fear for a long time is that it torments you. You are always looking over your shoulder, being overly cautious, skittish like a horse, easily spooked... It messes with your mind until all that is left is a shadow of your former self — weak and despondent. It feasts on your will and determination until, suddenly, you stop to care, and that’s when regret comes in; regret that I had let sentiment prevail and taken up a job of helping a “poor” blind kid. Regret for the things I could have had, the life I could have had. I had to leave school behind, my nana, the only family I had, the few friends I had, my dreams!

It’s at this point, as one mulls over loss and all you could have had, that’s when the anger starts to seep in, quiet at first, like a boom-slang’s venom, slowly moving through the bloodstream, taking its time, poisoning you from the inside. You lash out at the smallest of things, and by the time it consumes you whole, all that is left is hate. Hatred so calm, deep, and profound that I went out and bought a gun. I didn’t even think twice about it. Life had dealt me the shittiest of hands, and just like William Cowper once wrote, hatred and vengeance became my eternal potion. I wanted every Dvorak dead, the monsters among them, till I had had justice and was contented.

But all of that faded into a mist when, one day, I was scrolling through a news article and discovered a headline, one that announced the death of Mr. Ben Dvorak.

Just like that, I was stripped of all those negative emotions and became numb. It was shocking to read the news. And, as always, the article provided as little insight into the family as possible. Only reported on the death, covered a few details about the burial, and a brief history of the family’s farming business.

The next day, I began packing again and resolved to move to a new city, starting afresh for the third and final time in four years. I found an apartment that went unnoticed in the chaotic city, locked myself indoors for months, and then poured out all that I had been holding in, into manuscript after manuscript, mostly as short stories and Novellas. My memories from the mansion, my ignorance of the truth, all the horrors, all came out in a fierce outburst with my keyboard. It took me months, and I felt much lighter at the end. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted my stories out there, to share with the world. So, I began looking for an agent, and that was how I found Tammy.

She suggested I merge some of my short stories together and create a collection out of them, so I handpicked the ones I preferred most and handed them over to Tammy. It seemed like I was getting my life back, little by little, and all hope wasn’t lost after all. More than two years later, having not found a publisher interested, I began desperately seeking a real job. Running for so long had depleted all my accounts, and once more, all sense of hope seemed to be lost. My dreams were slipping through my fingers like grains of sand until a few weeks ago when Tammy announced a company’s interest in my book.

I should have known it was too good to be true. Good things never last when it comes to me. It had always been like that for me. Just when things got a bit better, it suddenly all took a dive to the ground.

True to Lance’s words, Isabel had sent over the contract for my book within the week. Before she came, I couldn’t count the number of times I packed, then I unpacked. One part of my mind kept yelling at me to run! But the other, more logical part always asked, ‘Then what?’ Lance had already made it clear that if I wanted to be safe from his family, then I needed to run very far, farther than I ever had. And I was low on funds, so I couldn’t afford that. It made me wonder if they had always known where I was from the start.

He had been subtle about it, but Lance had also threatened me with Drew and Tammy that night, and I kept asking, would he hurt them just to get to me? Tammy and Drew were the only family I had here. They were everything to me. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything were to happen to them. I could risk my life, but not theirs.

Lance knew what he was doing. He had been very vague, leaving me to wrestle with my thoughts instead of receiving answers that only he could provide.

I eventually picked up the contract and went through it multiple times, even downloading a legal dictionary to help me understand the terms. I had to read some parts about five times and let the legal terms swirl around in my head before I finally understood half of what they said. The contract was a fine-print prison meant to seize every right to my work and grant it exclusively to Starling House. According to it, my work would undergo some editing process to get it “polished” for print, and the editing process could include the plot being refined, the characters, scenes... all with my consent. Of course, they added that, but then they also added another clause that made the company’s opinions trump mine. They made it seem like I would have control over my work, but reading between the lines, I knew I wouldn’t.

Essentially, they would own the book! I would be a fool to agree to this, but do I have a choice? My stories were about my experiences in the mansion, which was why Lance wanted them, so he controlled my narrative. He was clearly worried that his family’s misdeeds would come to light with the publication of my book. And if Lance Dvorak wanted exclusive rights to my book, he would have it. I did ponder why he didn’t just kill me instead, which would save him a lot of trouble.

He said I could negotiate with Isabel, but I wondered how much I would be allowed to make. What even was the essence when, at the end of the day, Lance would get what he wanted? If I gave him what he wanted, would he and his family finally leave me alone? He hadn’t killed me yet, so maybe he had no intention to, because if he wanted me dead, I already would be.

‘My snoring chased you out of bed?’ Drew’s voice pulled me from my pondering thoughts to where he stood at the entrance of the balcony, shirtless and gazing down at me with sexy, lazy eyes.

I smiled back at him, ‘You don’t snore.’

‘I know.’ He graced me with a smug grin before stepping out and coming to plop his large form beside me on the bench. I hugged my bare knees closer to my chest to protect myself from the cold night air because Drew’s hoodie stopped mid-thigh for me. Drew was unbothered by the chill, even though he only had a pair of shorts on.

‘What were you doing out here?’

‘Just thinking.’ I sighed as he pulled me into his warmth.

‘What about?’ I wanted to pour out every thought of mine to him so I wouldn’t feel so alone in tackling this, but instead, I shook my head against his chest.

‘Nothing. I already have it figured out.’ I shut him out, as I always do, and I felt his muscles tense beneath me, but he kept quiet. We both remained silent and watched the city lights twinkle in the near and far distance. I was tired of running, hiding, and being so secretive. I wanted a normal life, and perhaps I now had the chance to have it if I played my cards right, so when Tammy arrived the next day, fuming about the outrageous terms of the contract, all I said was, ‘I will sign it.’

‘What?’ She appeared taken aback.

‘I said I will sign it. Let them know.’ I shrugged, and she blinked back at me, flabbergasted.

She shook her head, ‘Cora, this is my job. Let me handle it, okay? There’s no way you’re signing something like this. These terms are preposterous! A publishing company should never ask for the rights they’re requesting from you. They basically leave you with nothing. And let’s not even begin to talk about the duration. I know the money is extremely tempting, but you have to understand how—’

‘Tammy–’

‘No, Cora!’ She slammed the documents in her hand on the coffee table. ‘As a matter of fact, I don’t think we should even go ahead with them anymore. Let’s totally forget them. I will get you a better company that won’t be such a—’

‘Tammy, just stop!’ I stood up, halting her from her angry pacing. She spun to me, out of breath and baffled. ‘I’ve made my decision. You have to trust me, please! I need you to trust me, okay? This is my choice.’ I noted to her, and she appeared even more puzzled at my determination as I left no room for argument.

‘Do you understand what you’re saying? This is your hard-earned work.’

‘Yes, I do.’ I replied in a monotone. Her eyes sought mine for answers, and even though unsatisfied, she nodded.

‘I will contact Isabel. But I don’t support this,’ she added, shaking her head.

‘One thing though.’ I stopped her before she could march away. ‘I want a meeting with Lance Dvorak first, then I will sign.’ I surprised her with my demand, but I had mulled it over and over again. Maybe I could get my life back, make a trade for it so I wouldn’t have to run and change my name every one or two years, hide and live alone from the rest of the world, be afraid every time someone looks at me more than once in the street or even makes eye contact, be so secretive. I could finally be free, and this was my opportunity to.