Midnight Truce

The bedroom is dark, and Katrina is fast asleep after her visit to the ‘cunning linguist’. Wes is lying under the covers, unable to stop thinking about the interloper downstairs. He can’t explain it, but the mere presence of the stranger on the floor below unnerves him. After what occurred on that fateful night, he tries to imagine the motivations that would lead a person to live with someone who had beaten and bruised her. What reason did she have to come back here? ****? Scenarios and questions loop through his mind.

She must have some weakness or flaw to exploit. An epiphany hits him like a freight train. “Money! Of course! She even said it that night ‘Just pay me and you’ll never see me again.’” It’s so incredibly obvious to him now. He removes the covers and stands up to get dressed. In case things go south, he grabs a short dagger from the nightstand and tucks it into his short’s pocket. Carefully stepping down the stairs, he noiselessly arrives to the foot of the folded-out bed.

He looks upon her sleeping body. Dawn’s chest rising and falling is her only movement. Wes flips on the lamp on the end table. He reaches over the bed and prods her exposed shoulder. Coldly, he states “Wake up.” Her face twitches but her eyes remain closed. He nudges her harder and repeats himself, stopping only when she yelps “Ow! What’s going on?” Discovering the source of the poking, she chastises him “That shoulder still hurts asshole.”

“Keep it down.” He instructs as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Indifferently he asks in a quiet voice, “How much do you want?” Her eyes squint and lips tighten before she quietly replies, “How much… what?” He sighs “How much money will it take for you to leave?” She sits up and rests against the couch cushions arranged like a headboard. “Seriously, you woke me up for this nonsense? I don’t want your money.”

“Three thousand dollars cash and you leave by the end of the week. Make up any believable excuse you want.” She guffaws at the offer “Living with no rent is worth more than three grand.” He counters “Five thousand and you leave the minute your car is fixed.” Annoyed, she no longer speaks in a low voice. “Dude, what is your problem? You come down here in the middle of the night to try and pay me off? Its way too late for that now. Fuck off and go back to bed.”

“Ten thousand and you leave the moment I hand the cash to you. Based on how you talk and act, I know you have some scheme planned. You can just skip all of it and get payed for leaving. C’mon, are you really going to turn down $10k? Admit it, you could use that kind of money. For what, I don’t know nor care. This is my final offer and I will not offer again.”

Dawn lets out a long sigh and rubs a finger along her brow. Her hand falls to her shoulder and she scratches at the strap of her pink silk camisole. Taking a deep breath in, she finally answers. “Mr. Staunton, the manner in which I speak is a reflection of those around me.” Her voice has dropped an octave and is as smooth as glass. If this voice is a reflection, it is bouncing off an obsidian mirror. “I do not have Machiavellian machinations designed to ****, deprive, or oust you. I am taking up residence here because unlimited room and board for an indeterminate amount of time is worth a great deal to someone as destitute as I.”

Wes stares at her, frozen in shock. Domeno continues “Now that we have established my presence and motives, what about yours? What drove you to throw me down the stairs, to beat me, and then cast me out? How about betraying your best friend’s and girlfriend’s charity allowing me to stay here by trying to bribe me into leaving? It is almost comical how much you despise me for entering your life… your haven.”

Wes stands, recoiling in horror. He was here to bargain with what he thought was a prostitute looking for a big score, not a succubus with a voice that pierces right through him. “Tell me, is it solely my occupation you find so offensive? Would you not do the same to prevent yourself from becoming homeless? If not for yourself, what about Katrina? Would you agree to exchange sex for money if it meant she didn’t have to live on the street?”

Taking another step back, he stammers “I… I…” Domeno unleashes another volley. “Although, it’s not just me is it? I’ll bet no one else has dared enter your little haven as none are worthy in your eyes. You wake an injured sleeping woman in the middle of the night and stand over her both physically and morally... Why? What broke you so badly that you brought a knife that is large enough to cause your shorts to sag unevenly? For a man with such investigative aptitude, have you never turned it around and inspected yourself?”

Stunned into silence, Wes stands as still as a statue. His brain swirls, this interrogation has been flipped on its head and he is feeling the full brunt of it. His mind replays the events from the previous night. The bright light, the fall, the strike, her sobbing, and his rage. He vehemently disapproves of his actions regardless of how justified he felt they were at the time. He lost his cool, his composure, and his control over himself. He struck first and asked questions later. He knows what he should do next, but it still takes another moment for him to sack up and do it.

Finally gathering himself, Wes apologizes “I’m sorry. I overreacted… a lot… okay a shit ton. It was unreasonable of me to treat you so harshly and without giving you the chance to defend your own actions. You weren’t threatening any of us when I pushed you. I just love Katrina and Andre so much; they are my world. The smallest chance they could be in danger meant I was willing to go almost any length to end the threat. Had Andre not stopped me… I would have…”

“Apology accepted.” Dawn says in her normal voice. “I don’t expect you to trust me overnight, nor I you, but we can live together peacefully, I hope. Now please turn off the light so I can get back to sleep.” She slides forwards while pulling the blanket over herself and Wes dutifully turns off the light. He turns and walks up the stairs as quietly as he had come down.

Back in bed, Wes wonders why he did what he did regarding Dawn. Well ‘wonders’ isn’t really the correct word since he knows exactly why he reacted the way he did. If the previous night was an important one in his life, then another night years ago was even more so. The light, the impact, the restraints, the blindfold, the sounds-

“Enough of that.” He says out loud to himself. He tries to focus on the situation with Dawn… Domeno? He’s unsure how to address the dual roles she can swap back and forth from so easily. He has to work with her starting tomorrow on the unfinished ground level apartment. Does he really need to plan anything other than the work itself? His eyelids close and somewhere in his musings he falls asleep.