His Favorite Sin

TWO

TRUE FRIENDS

Nine Years Ago

There was very little information one could find on the internet about Mr. Ben Dvorak. And when you do find something, they don’t go into details.

One of the few things you would find about him or his family was that they were farmers. That made no sense at first because the house they lived in looked like it could pass as some modernized European castle. Further investigation, however, revealed they were a generational family of farmers. The whole town initially began as a farming community working under the Dvoraks. The rows of cornfields that ran for miles, which I had to pass on the way to their home, were a very tiny fraction of the land they owned altogether. They didn’t just own crop farms but also poultry and other agribusinesses scattered around.

There was nothing about their net worth, just speculations of figures that left my jaw hanging. But overall, the family kept a very low profile.

One suitcase was enough for me to pack the essentials that I needed for my limited stay at Mr. Dvorak’s. I informed my nana about my new living arrangements, and although she was skeptical, she knew I couldn’t stop me, so she just pleaded with me to be extra cautious. She planned on paying Mr. Dvorak a visit once her health allowed her.

After accepting the job, we had gone over what was expected of me. Lance could fend for himself pretty well, I was told, even with his disability. He grew up and spent his whole life in that house, so he was familiar with the surroundings and could move around with ease; no help was needed. He barely left the house anyway.

Previously, his mum had dedicated her time to assisting him, but she could no longer do so. No further explanation was given as to why that is, and even though Mr. Dvorak spoke cordially, I knew not to pry. The same way, I knew to be formal and still call him Mr. Dvorak, even though he once told me I could refer to him as Ben. It was just something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, the vibe he gave off.

Mr. Dvorak always spoke and acted pleasantly to everyone, or at least to his employees and me, since those were the only ones I had seen him interact with during the short time I had known him. But no matter how warm his smiles seemed or how charming he spoke, there was a disconcerting way he could make those around him feel. He had an intimidating aura.

For instance, when he told me I could feel at home, he followed with an advice for me never to leave the house late at night without supervision, which was understandable since I was under his care now and he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to me. However, the way he phrased it made it seem more like an order than a suggestion.

‘I know kids your age love to... socialize till late at night. However, for your safety, I advise against leaving the house past ten. There are wild animals in those woods; we try to keep them out, but still. And we can’t exactly... hurt them legally because we’re trying to ‘save the planet’ by ‘preserving wildlife,’ even though the ‘wild’ wouldn’t think twice about killing us.’ He sounded sarcastic, so I smiled in return.

‘I will be careful, Mr. Dvorak.’

He nodded and tilted his head at me, ‘I’m sure you will. But still, I will be more at ease if you don’t leave the house too late.’ The smile slowly left my face when I noticed all traces of amusement gone from his face.

‘Okay...’

His smile slowly returned after a chilling, long pause. ‘Just for your safety,’ he added.

Maybe I was overthinking it, and he was genuinely only concerned for my safety. Perhaps it was just me, still overawed, and I couldn’t get over the fact that I was in the same space as such a wealthy figure, so I was intimidated by his position. But still, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off about that man.

It didn’t matter anyway. This was only a temporary job until they got a real, qualified assistant for Lance. For now, I would just follow the rules because the pay was too-too good to ignore.

Lance was a sweetheart, though. I was settling in and arranging my stuff in my room, which was close to his for ease of the job, when I noticed the lone figure standing in my doorway. I had left the door open while I unpacked.

‘Oh, hey.’ I was going to wave at him, but then halted my hand in midair as I recalled he couldn’t see that action.

In his hand, he was holding the stem of a white rose, and next to his leg was his dark cat that still loved to stare a lot. Noticing he remained at the doorway, I walked over. ‘You can come in, Lance.’ I touched his arm and guided him inside. His cat followed, too, instantly stalking and sniffing its way around. I led Lance to a chair in one corner, where he could sit.

Straightening up, I noticed his cat had found a spot on the windowsill to curl up with its yellow eyes settling back on me.

‘I was in the greenhouse and thought to bring something back to welcome you properly,’ said Lance, bringing my attention away from the cat as he handed me the rose stem. ‘I’d like us to be true friends.’ I realized he was indirectly quoting from one of the poems that I had read to him the first time I was here, a verse from José Martí’s book.

‘I have a white rose to tend

...I give it to the true friend.’

‘Oh.’ I took the flower and observed the thorns had been thoughtfully pruned. ‘Thank you. White roses are actually my favorite.’ I divulged, then leaned in and whispered, ‘Reds are overrated, I tell you.’ That caused his lips to curl up in amusement.

Keeping the flower down on the bedside table, I made a mental note to get a small glass of water later so I could put it in. Once more, my eyes caught those of his cat, which was freakishly still glued to me and my every movement. Seriously, that was irksome. ‘Hey, Lance? What’s your name for your cat?’

‘He doesn’t have one.’ I heard him shrug.

‘Then how do you call him or get his attention?’

‘He knows when he’s needed.’ His answer made me raise an eyebrow, amused, and look away from the cat back to him. And surprisingly, he was serious. He had his face to the bedroom door while I stood more to his side, by my bed.

How does a cat just know when it’s needed?

My gaze flittered quietly between him and his ever-staring cat, and I, for some reason, got the chilliest feeling, especially when I held the cat’s gaze. My amusement was gone.

Guess his father isn’t the only odd one.

****

Present

Liquid wine spilled into my glass, sloshing in a circular motion until the glass was half full, and the bottle was withdrawn as the waiter moved away. It’s red, like blood, red, like the blood of a man who had his brains blown out in that dark, wet woods, leaving the watered earth to soak up the thick red liquid, red like mine will be when it’s spilled on the earth too.

The table was already packed with food; Tammy had ordered mine for me when she noticed the change in my expression and how quiet I had become.

‘I’m glad we are able to do this,’ said the publisher, Isabel, as she had introduced herself. ‘Usually, we meet authors at the company, but Young Mr. Dvorak thought it would be better to have a more informal meeting.’ Tammy said something in response, but I barely caught her words.

“Young Mr. Dvorak.” I haven’t heard that name in a long while. Not many go by that name, and I had hoped never to come across someone bearing such a name, but what was the saying? Never hope for luck?

I thought I was lucky that I had gotten away. It had been seven years, after all, since I ran away from that cursed house, away from its haunting atmosphere and the promise of my death. I was supposed to have all my dreams come true that night, becoming a published author. I didn’t expect the publisher to walk in, leading along with her, the very being that pushed me into hiding. And he, he was calmly sitting across me in his dark suit, his brown hair now slightly longer and almost grazing his shoulders. He was seated directly opposite Tammy and said something that made her laugh beside me, but I only saw his lips move, my mind suspended in dazed wonder as the world around me faded for a few seconds.

He looked different, older, of course. His jaw was covered with stubble he had intentionally let grow out, and when he smiled, you got a glimpse of his perfectly arranged pearl-like teeth.

‘Why are you here?’

The table fell silent as three, well, two actually, pairs of eyes turned to me. I hadn’t meant to blurt out the question like that, but it just came out, and I needed an answer.

‘Cora.’ Tammy quietly reprimanded me, and my attention turned back to her, then to Isabel directly opposite me, who had her drink paused halfway to her lips, and her eyebrows lifted. I suddenly remembered where we were and why we were here. Tammy knew nothing, maybe Isabel too, and I was probably coming off as rude and a weirdo with how silent I had been and then suddenly blurting out that question, but I couldn’t help it. He was sitting there, acting like everything was normal and that the last time I saw him, his hands weren’t stained with the blood of another man! Like he wasn’t the reason I had my whole life taken away from me and had to be in hiding for so long.

‘Mr. Dvorak is an investor in Starling House,’ Isabel clarifies, her tone frostier than it had been a minute ago. ‘And he was the one to pick up your manuscript and show an interest in it when no one else even gave it a second glance. He believes there is true potential in your horror short stories, and perhaps, after much editing from our editors, it might be a hit.’

‘Cora didn’t mean to offend either of you. She has been looking forward to this and is just a little nervous. This is a really exciting opportunity for her, one she is grateful for, Mr. Dvorak. Tammy quickly tried to dispel the tension clinging to the air, and I felt her palm lightly caress my shoulder.

‘Please, call me Lance.’ He said, and one look at the entranced smile on Tammy’s face, I could tell he had won her over. She was completely smitten by him, clinging to every word of his, giving him her full attention, giggling nonstop at his compliments to her. But I knew it was all a facade; get people to like him so they never suspected the evil within. His father used to do the exact same thing.

‘Lance. Forgive me, but you look so young.’ Tammy tried to keep the conversation going and the atmosphere light, but I felt her squeeze my hand under the table in encouragement while I remained stiffly seated in my seat.

He sipped from his glass while I bored holes into his head with my eyes. ‘Well, I did just graduate from college last year with a bachelor’s degree in business administration. My family primarily operates in agribusiness, but I believe in branching out and exploring more fascinating ventures to add to the family business. I am a lover of literature, poetry being my favorite. It helps with the imagination since that is all the visual my condition affords me.’ Tammy tilted her head sympathetically, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. Oh, please! The “poor-blind-kid” card. Lance Dvorak was the last person on earth deserving of sympathy, not when you know what he’s capable of.

‘I couldn’t help but invest in a publishing company and help get as many untold stories out there as much as possible. Joining Starling House seemed like the best way to go, and maybe soon, I could be more than just an investor.’

‘Oh, do you wish to work in the company?’ Tammy curiously asked.

He chuckled and shook his head, ‘No. I was talking about purchasing the company.’

‘And once my book is signed to the company, you would own its publishing rights.’ I concluded, realization dawning on me. He would own the best part of my life.

He c****d his head in my direction so I could now glare directly into his dark shades. Tammy’s bewildering stare beside me was almost impossible to ignore.

His lips pulled up as he comfortably leaned back into his seat. ‘I was instantly lured in by your manuscripts. Your short stories resonate with me, the ghastly way you tell them. You have a way of connecting with your readers. A particular story, “Stay Away,” drew me in. Perhaps it’s because I identify with the character since we both share the same disability. Tell me, what inspired you to write a story about a blind boy who lives alone in a castle with his butler but feasts on the hearts of anyone who steps into his land?’

My fists are curled under the table, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. Beside me, Tammy, oblivious to the enmity between Lance and me, was encouraging me with a nod to go ahead and talk more about my book.

What inspired me? He knew damn well what “inspired” me to write that story. Most of the short stories in my manuscript were brought to life based on my experience in that mansion, things I hadn’t noticed until it was too late. I hadn’t realized the evil that was Lance Dvorak until that faithful night that led to me running as far as I could from that house. It was then that I realized what he truly was, what the whole family truly was. The hideous rumors that were being spread about them in the town were all true, but I hadn’t believed those stories until it was almost too late for me.

Hot, searing anger bubbled inside me as I stared at the boy opposite me and the annoying smirk playing on his lips. He was purposefully toying with me, enjoying watching me squirm. I gritted my teeth and abruptly stood up, almost knocking my chair down.

‘No!’ I spat out, unconcerned that my action was garnering the attention of the whole restaurant.

The amused expression on his face remained as he tilted his head up at me, ‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m no longer interested in having Starling House publish my manuscript,’ I spat. ‘Sorry, you came to this dinner for nothing. Have a good day. Tammy, let’s go.’ Tammy shook her head frantically, attempting to apologize to Isabel and Lance, but I was already reaching for my coat.

‘Do you have any idea what you’re doing? The opportunity you’re passing?’ I heard Isabel behind me, but I didn’t stop walking towards the door, ignoring the stares I was receiving. ‘There won’t be a second chance!’

The cool night’s air gently fanned my skin as I stepped out of the restaurant and began looking for a cab. I just needed to find a cab first that would take me home.

‘Cora! What are you doing?’ Tammy charged after me in her heels, stepping out of the restaurant as well and meeting up with me by the road, where I was hailing a cab. ‘What the hell? Have you finally lost it? What is wrong with you? Do you know how long we have been searching for a publisher to take your manuscript, how hard we worked for this, how hard I worked for this? Hey, are you even listening to me?’

‘Look, I’m sorry, Tammy, okay? I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I just... I can’t. I’m sorry.’ I kept on apologizing as a cab stopped, and I got in. She made no attempt to join me, staring at me in stunned silence, so I told the driver my address.

‘Cora?!’ Tammy still called after me as the car rolled away. I couldn’t tell her the truth, not without putting her life in danger. The truth was what set me on this lonely path; I witnessed it, and my life was never the same... will never be the same. And no one could help me.

It was then, in the back of the cab, that my anger began to slowly dissipate, and the reality of things started to hit me. Fear sipped into my bones, and my hands trembled in my lap.

I had to pack. I had to get out of here. This city, this state, maybe the country, or even the continent. And I had to do that as quickly as possible, perhaps tonight. No, tonight, I look for a secret hideout, and from there, I plan my next move.

The way home, I thought about different cities and countries I could move to and start afresh. The first time I ran and moved away, I had enough money saved up from working for the Dvoraks, so it wasn’t that hard. All of it was gone now, and it had been hard getting a good job as a college dropout, but I still had some cash from ghostwriting and other little jobs I had picked up. Hopefully, it would be enough.

I rushed and paid the cab driver the instant he stopped at my place, then dashed towards my apartment building. The building had a broken elevator and lots of stairs, and my apartment was close to the top floor. I struggled with getting the keys into the lock of my apartment with my shaky hands, but stopped halfway when the door creaked open.

Had I not locked it? I couldn’t remember. Everything was blurry now. It had all happened so fast, the three of us leaving home together. I think with all the excitement, I had forgotten to.

Hopefully, I wasn’t wrong. I took a cautious step into the room, my eyes searching through the darkness as I closed the door. It was dead silent and appeared empty. My pounding heart was the only thing one could hear until I found the light switch. Just as I flipped it on, I heard a rattling sound from somewhere in the apartment, and then it went silent again. I wasn’t sure where it came from, but my eyes zeroed in on the kitchen.

I forced my feet forward, making my way to the kitchen. I tried turning on the light, but the room remained dark no matter how many times I flipped the switch off and on. The hell...

My eyes caught something in the dark on the kitchen counter, and the blood drained from my face.

With no light on, it appeared gray, but I knew it was actually white. The lone rose sat on a thick piece of paper neatly folded. I picked up the flower and instantly hissed, letting it drop to the floor when a thorn pricked my thumb. Blood oozed out of the spot, but I sucked on the finger and picked up the paper to read its contents.

I recognized the words written in clear calligraphy with red ink. It was from a poem, one I had memorized after reciting it many times for a boy long ago.

‘...For the cruel one whose blows

Break the heart by which I live....’

It ended there, but I knew the next lines that followed by heart.

...Thistle nor thorn do I give:

For him, too, I have a white rose.

Another clattering sound came again from somewhere in the silent apartment, and my head whipped around at the sound. I was more certain then that I was not alone.

Luck runs out; that was the saying about luck.