As promised on my EIT Facebook page, as a thank you for my fans, here is another quick Dex POV from Darkhouse — the popular “pie” scene. Man, it is a rollercoaster being in this man’s head. The Dex-Files is going to be very interesting (and fun) to write. And I hope come August, it will be just as much fun to read.
And without further ado.…
Dex’s POV – Darkhouse Excerpt #2
“Oh come on, just shoot the freaking zombie already!” Matt or Tony yelled at me. I couldn’t tell which one. They both looked the same and sounded the same – deafening.
I’d been playing video games with Perry’s cousins for the last hour while she checked her emails and we waited for night to fall. My zombie-hunting “skills” seemed just as useless as my ghost-hunting skills and the noises and the graphics were fucking up my equilibrium. I mean, shit. After what went down in the car, running into that psycho, Dame Edna lady again, I was surprised it took me this long to realize everything was doing my head in. I had enough.
“That’s it,” I said, throwing my controller down on the couch and getting up. “I’ve died for the last time.”
The twins made a noise in unison. It sounded like false disappointment. It was eerie.
Then they continued playing like I had never even been there. Also eerie.
I made my way over the kitchen and started to pull out my notebook from my overnight bag. It still smelled like apple pie here, the one that Perry managed to bake earlier. What possessed her to try baking was beyond my cloudy brain. Just one more thing to scribble down on my mental notepad headlined PERRY and sorted: things I needed to get to the bottom of.
It was good too. Not the best thing I’ve tasted in my life, but it was good considering she randomly cooked it in her uncle’s place. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had homemade apple pie. Had I ever? The only time I could think of was the God awful Christmases with Jenn and her white-ass rich folks, and if I knew them, they probably ordered those pies from some epicurean pie catalogue for old farts.
But the thing is, it wasn’t so much what it tasted like but what it smelled like. The damn pie smelled like home to me. But apple pie didn’t exist in my fucked-up youth, and if it had, it wasn’t at the hands of my mother. Perhaps a nanny had baked every now and then. I don’t know, I didn’t care to remember that shit. That whole period was blocked out for very good reasons.
But the smell still stirred up memories that never could have existed. It felt…like, warm. Good. Honest. How the hell did those things belong in my life?
I looked at Perry as she came into the kitchen and sat down at the table across from me. Her face was anxious, like she was having another battle inside that head of hers. There was something about her that stirred up the same feelings. Maybe this had nothing to do with apple pie at all. Maybe it’s that she made it, and when she handed over that first slice and met my eyes, I could see she made it for me. And no one had ever made me anything.
Naturally, I wasn’t about to tell her that. It was retarded, actually, to even think this funny little girl thought of me more than some crazy mustached fucker in her uncle’s kitchen. She just met me. She didn’t know me. And if she thought she did, she was mistaking me for someone else. Someone who didn’t hide medication in a hollowed-out book.
I kept my mouth shut and began to write an overview of the day. I still managed to watch her at the same time, watch her debating whether to tell me something or not. A glint of something gleamed in her blue eyes. It was almost…hot. Was she thinking something naughty? I found myself shifting uncomfortably in the chair.
“So,” she said, her voice high and self-conscious. “A local ghost hunter’s club in Salem was hoping I could come aboard their team and perhaps show them around the lighthouse.
The…fuck? I stopped writing, trying to process what she was saying. Competition? Already? I knew I should have fucking got her to sign a contract. I knew I was being a fucktard by just trusting that she’d stick with me and not go to someone else with this fucking access, someone who actually knew what they were doing. All that shit we said to each other in the car, all the things I said – that didn’t mean shit, did it? Fuck I was a fool.
I cleared my throat and tried to sound casual. “And?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t gotten back to them.”
How considerate, I wanted to say but I shut my mouth. This was not the time to fly off the handle. I knew I wasn’t thinking straight lately, especially today, I knew I was predisposed to say shit I didn’t mean, hell, shit I didn’t even think. I couldn’t fuck everything up now, not when we were so close.
“Well, you can do whatever you want to do,” I lied through my teeth. “You’re a free agent. We haven’t signed anything.”
Cuz I’m a dick-grabbing monkey, that’s why.
My cell phone rang, preventing me from saying anything else ridiculous. It was Jenn but I was grateful for any distraction.
“Hey babe,” I said.
“Dex?” Jenn’s voice sounded tinny through the poor reception. “Sorry to bug you on your little adventure but Cynthia and Relece wanted to have a girl’s night out and…”
She droned on but I had quit listening and was watching Perry again. Her nose twitched (how cute was that?) and a faint flush of red crept up her neck and onto the side of her face. She straightened up in her seat as soon as she noticed me looking but it didn’t stop the girl from looking like she’d rather be in a million other places than sitting here in front of me. I hoped she wasn’t seriously thinking about that pussy ghost hunting club. Who the fuck decides to form one of those?
“….and I know you won’t be home till late, but I won’t be there until probably much later. Is that OK?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“You sure?” Jenn asked and from her tone I knew she didn’t give a fuck if I said it wasn’t. She’d still go out, as she always did. I didn’t even know why she was calling to ask. Maybe she wanted to check up on me.
“Seriously, I don’t mind. Go do whatever it is you girls do.”
After I told her I’d be home in the morning now, I hung up the phone and decided to jump right back into it.
“OK, where were we?” I said out loud. What did we need to know for tonight?
“She doesn’t mind you staying another night?” Perry asked.
I raised my brow. Odd question. Why did she care?
“No,” I said, not wanting to talk about how pathetic our relationship truly was. I let my gaze fall to the window where the wind was shaking the trees loose. I breathed in and let that smell of home bring my heart rate down a notch.
“Do you have anymore pie?”
“There’s a slice or two I put back in the fridge…” she said, as if she wasn’t sure.
“Would you mind getting me a piece of pie?” I asked. I wanted to see if she’d do it. And if she’d hand it to me again with that look in her eyes. I needed that look right now. I sensed some changes inside, the wiring coming loose and needing a good cauterizing. My thoughts were getting lost.
She tried to look annoyed but she failed at it big time. Cuz she still got out of her chair and walked over to the fridge. She opened the door and had to bend over in front of me to get a bottle of milk. My God she had one hell of an ass. Not too big that your dick would get lost but just big enough to get a good, meaty hold of and squeeze and smack and come until the cows came home.
I must have been pretty obvious in my leering. Wasn’t I trying to impress her, not creep her out?
“Were you staring at my ass?” she said. She sounded surprised but she was glaring at me, so I had no idea what the fuck she was thinking. Did she like the idea? Was she going to tell her mafia uncle to pour cement in my shoes and chuck me out in the Pacific?
“Yes,” I told her. Why lie? I’d put on the cement shoes if I had to. I’ve done worse for a woman.
She made some exasperated sound and shook her head. But she still came back with a piece of pie. She was beet red now and avoiding my eyes. Maybe she liked my attention after all.
“Obviously, I’ll need a napkin too,” I told her. Pushing buttons, pushing buttons.
“Obviously,” she muttered and she tossed one to me. I took it with all the grace of a dandy and folded it in my shirt pocket. I was a gentleman over everything. An ass-appreciating gentleman. We are the finest kind of man. I should open my own ass-appreciating gentleman’s club one day.
I shoved the pie in my face (pie-appreciating gentleman that I am) and noticed she wasn’t having any. To think of it, she hadn’t had any earlier either. That’s probably why I thought she baked it for me…she certainly didn’t bake the desert for herself.
Oh no, don’t tell me she’s one of those self-conscious girls who have absolutely no reason to be self-conscious. I eyed her full breasts and couldn’t fathom why she’d want to diet.
“You’re not having anything?” I asked, pointing my fork at her in an accusatory fashion, hoping she’d prove me wrong.
“I don’t like pie,” was her stupid answer.
I laughed and a pie of pie shot out. “You don’t like pie? What kind of person doesn’t like pie?”
I poked her with the fork to make sure she was still real. “You can’t be trusted.”
She took a swipe at the fork, looking annoyed. “You’re the one with the fork.”
Without thinking, I reached over for her hand and opened it, soft and warm. I placed the fork in it and gently closed her fingers over it.
“Now you have the fork,” I said softly and sat back in my chair. She stared down at the fork, thinking. I stared down at the paper. Thinking. Sometimes you came across women who had everything going for them…looks, personality, smarts, and they had NO fucking idea what they were worth. How amazing and beautiful, they were, how they oozed sex and secrets. Then you had those women who knew they had what you wanted and used it. Repeatedly. Just to get what they wanted. It was an unbalanced universe.
Now I could see that Perry was the former. She did look self-conscious and unsure of herself at every turn. She was always pulling down her shirt or tugging up her jeans, or keeping her chin as far away from her neck as possible. She’d cover up her breasts with heavy jackets and boxy shirts, like they were something to be hidden. The girl was fucking nuts and for all the wrong reasons. It made me feel strangely helpless.
“I just want you to enjoy all the pies in life, Perry,” I said, gazing at her, trying to get her shy eyes to meet mine. “That’s all.”
I wondered if she’d let me try.