Page 5 of After Dark

Page List


Font:  

I like being left alone and he seems to be offering me the exact opposite of what I want right now.

Maybe he’s offering me what I need instead.

Hm.

I use the cloth napkin on my lap to properly clean my hands of any excess grease I may have gotten on them while rapping on the table, then finally extend my hand toward his. He closes his around mine gently, shakes slowly, and smiles when the death of one thousand waits is finally over.

“Bodhi,” I offer after we pull free of each other’s grip.

“Knox.”

I nod as I use the napkin to wipe my lips one last time, then toss it onto my half-eaten plate. If I have to spend the rest of my break exchanging pleasantries with Knox, I’d rather not eat while I do it. I find that sometimes manners go a long way in forgiving what someone’s appearance is.

No matter how different.

I narrow my eyes again as I let my chin rest in the palm of my hand and wait.

If all he wanted to do was sit and stare at me, he could have stayed where he was.

“Was there something else?” I ask a little colder than I mean to.

I use the edge of my forefinger to scratch my chin and raise an eyebrow when I notice his eyes following the stroke of something so simple.

I wonder …

I decide to test the theory forming in my mind and lay my hands gently on the table in his line of sight, then begin to pick at the dead skin around my fingernails. His eyes watch every single movement, every piece of wasted flesh as I pluck it and toss it to the ground. And when I finally decide to fold my hands together, his gaze intensifies.

“Interesting,” I say quietly.

“Uh, what is?” he asks, finally tearing his eyes away from my hands and looking up at me. He’s in a daze it seems, and I think it has to do with the fact that I transfixed him so easily with something most people see as an anomaly.

My hands are slim and bony; my fingers long and delicate—and Knox seems to be infatuated with them.

“Nothing,” I say with a small smile.

Everyone has their vices and if this is something he needs for the moment, then I’ll let him have his fun before we part ways.

It’s not like I’ll ever see him again anyway.

“Do you have a last name Knox?” I ask as I crane my neck to look for my server. It would be nice not to have the smell of food assaulting me while I try to have a conversation. Unfortunately, I’m still hungry and I have to place a hand against my stomach to keep the sound of rumbling as muffled as I can. I’ll just grab a snack at the canteen before I head back down to the dungeon.

“Scott,” he answers.

I wave at the server when I see her. She comes over and takes my plate, asking my new admirer if he’d like another cup of coffee, to which he shakes his head.

“Do you?” he continues. “Have a last name, I mean.”

The way the blush creeps over his face makes this almost too easy. I feel like I’d be wasting my time in pursuing him at a later time, but as I already know, I’ll never see him again. I like to play with my food before I eat it, and a challenge he is not.

I think now is the time to break something to him that my appearance manages to hide so well. Much like the appendages he seems to love so much for some odd reason, the rest of my body is also slim, bony, and delicate. I’ve been mistaken for a female more than once because of my feral features, but I’m not interested in hiding what I am.

Unlike the wooden table quietly sitting under a dirty cloth, I prefer to be known for what I am anatomically.

I reach into my side pocket, fish out my wallet, then remove my driver’s license and slide it across the table toward him. He smiles at me uncertainly as he picks it up and I wait.

Rowe, Bodhi will be the first thing he sees, followed by my address. As his eyes continue to scan the piece of plastic, I know that next he’ll see my date of birth, date of expiration—though not the kind I’d hope for—and finally, he’ll see the sex.

But the smile never leaves his face as he takes in all of the information. It doesn’t falter, it doesn’t widen. If anything, his eyes are now wandering back to the picture of the sullen man staring at the lens of a camera, hoping things will end sooner rather than later.


Tags: Yolanda Olson, Murphy Wallace Dark