In the House of Spite

Author's Note: This story is NOT politically correct. A complex, political issue will be discussed. It might offend some people. The opinions and actions of any fictional characters I write about don't always match my own opinions and actions. Remember that.

***

What a stupid joke! Likely a scam!

Pearl was so mad that she couldn't think of a response. Maybe she shouldn't respond at all.

But when that same unknown number glowed on the screen, showing her that someone was trying to call, the temptation to answer the phone and bitch was too great. She tapped the green circle and held the phone to her ear. "Who the fuck is this?"

"What the hell, Girl?! Who pissed in your cornflakes?!"

Every part of Pearl's body chilled. She sat in a dining chair and gripped the edge of the kitchen table.

Why ... why was Darren's voice on the phone?!

Pearl's voice was as thin and weak as a starving puppy's. "Who ... who are you?"

"What? It's me. It's Darren."

"No, no you're not. Darren's with me."

A pause.

"Baby ... you need to put your phone on silent. Make everything silent. Then I'll set up a video chat."

Pearl did just that. She made sure her phone was completely silent. Then, through an app, she accepted a call for a live video feed.

The first thing she saw was Darren's tired and worried face. Pearl's eyes widened and she put her free hand on her lips. The camera moved with Darren, and then he seemed to point it towards a tablet's screen. The clock and date shown matched the current date and time, as if she needed more evidence that this was indeed a live feed.

Then the camera was set on a table, and she saw Darren's hands writing on a notepad. Then, after some time, the camera was held over the message.

"Don't fight him. Do whatever he wants. Where are you?"

Her hands were trembling. She thought she would vomit. She got some paper and an old pen from her purse. In a wiggly penmanship, she wrote out the basic directions to her location from town. She also described the truck and the house. Then she held her phone over the paper for a few minutes. When she next looked at her phone's screen, she saw a new message.

"I'm coming. Don't freak out if he takes you anywhere. I'll find you. If you fight him, he might kill you. I love you."

He ended the feed.

Out of concern for being discovered, Pearl deleted the messages from Darren, but before that she did saved the number in the contacts as, "Mr. Guy." She wasn't sure whose number it really was.

Her bare ass painfully digging into the hard seat, Pearl sighed and tried not to cry.

It wasn't difficult to figure out what the hell was going on. Someone that looked like Darren had lured her away, probably a twin brother Darren had never bothered to tell her about ... that his damn family hadn't ever bothered to tell her about. Why the fuck hadn't they? That isn't something you typically hide.

But even the man's damn hands seemed to match!!

Wait ...

Pearl's tongue poked and slid around against the crevices between her teeth.

If this twin also played the guitar ... then it would make sense that his hands were close enough.

Why did he do this, though? Why the hell did he lie about himself? Why did he take her away? Why did he ... why did he screw her? What kind of sick and twisted person was this guy?!

Oh no ... what if he had an STD?!

Pearl knew she was going to throw up then. She ran to the kitchen sink and emptied her stomach right there. It physically hurt. She rinsed the sink out and looked in the cabinets for cleaning supplies. Yes! The monster had thought to get some. She used a combination of bleach and water to clean the sink. Then she washed her hands, rinsed her mouth, and took a mint from her purse.

She needed to get dressed. She was getting cold.

But ...

Pearl hugged herself and sadly looked down at her bare toes.

He was up there. That creep. That nasty piece of work. He was up there! She didn't want to go up there!

Footsteps!

Pearl slapped her own cheeks and smoothed her hair out.

"Hey there, Baby Girl. You okay?"

The smile she practically taped on her face felt like it would split and flake away. She looked up to the nude man, whose true name she didn't know, and said with a false joy, "I'm fine."

Her heart felt like someone was digging their fingernails in it.

He looked just like ... really just like Darren!

What was she supposed to even call him in her head? Shithead? That might do nicely. Shithead was officially chosen.

Shithead's bare feet slapped the kitchen floor as he approached. He even had the same nail beds in his toes. God damn it!

He petted the top of her head. High alert bells rang in her ears as she listened to him. "I got something to tell you. I don't think you'll like it." His smile looked so warm and sweet, but it only frightened her.

"Can it wait until I put my clothes on?" Pearl let out a fake laugh and stepped away from him. "I'm chilly. The AC here is really good."

A hand on his hip, his nose wiggling, Shithead said, "Alright. I should put on some clothes too."

Great. That meant he had to follow her. Ugh.

They put their clothes on upstairs. Pearl wanted to distract him. She said, "Let's watch more Netflix." But he took her wrist and smacked a kiss right on her cheek. It was so not what she wanted.

"Hey, sit down," Shithead said as he tugged her to the bed. They sat down on the edge, his body right on her left. Pearl imagined she was about to hear something really, really unpleasant. He took her left hand in his, lacing the fingers, holding it on his thigh. "You're really not going to like this, Honey. You're going to feel sick and freak out."

Her eyebrows rose as she wondered if this weirdo was actually going to tell the truth to her.

"I'm not who you think I am," he said as the edge of his long thumbnail moved around on her skin. "I'm sorry. But everything's still fine. I'm still great, right?"

Pearl decided that silence was the best choice. Anything she could think of to say might anger this clearly mentally unwell man. She turned her face away and gave what she hoped was an uncaring sigh.

"Baby!" He sounded like he was trying not to laugh at a child whose attention he wanted. His thumbnail tapped on her hand in such a way that made Pearl wonder if he was making a Morse code message. "You're probably going to want to go cry somewhere when I tell you this. It's okay. I understand." He put his free hand over hers and his. His voice lowered near her ear. "My name is Shawn."

Fine. Shithead was now Shawn. That didn't make her feel any better. Without looking, she twisted her hand away from him. Then she rose to her feet. At this point, she thought silence was even more dangerous than saying something offensive. He was clearly expecting her to respond. "I think I'm going to throw up. Or maybe not." She shuddered and folded her arms. "I don't know. Leave me alone."

She started walking towards the bathroom.

"Get it all out of your system," the man cheerfully said. "Cry it out. You'll be fine. I'll look after you."

She cringed as she closed the bathroom door behind herself. She locked that door. Then she sat down in the bathtub, her knees up against her chest and her arms around her legs. She didn't want to lean against the door. She worried that he might poke under the door with a stick or something.

She listened to him keep on talking to her like he was trying to argue for himself. "It's not so bad. I'm really just like Darren, but a little better, right? I can even play you a song." He left after that statement. Pearl listened to his footsteps disappear, then come back. To Pearl's embarrassment, she soon heard one of Darren's favorite songs being played on an acoustic guitar. If she later found out that his guitar looked like Darren's, she knew she'd want to throw up again.

Her eyelids twitched in the worst ways as she realized he might've learned how to play the guitar just so his calluses and fingernails would be similar enough to Darren's. The dedication was unreal! Pearl was sure that his teeth matched too!

After that song, another was played. A chipper little tune. Hoping that the true Darren would show up, Pearl groaned and rubbed one of her eyes. Did this evil twin really think he could drop a scary bomb on her and then seduce her into not caring? Nice things were, well, nice, but none of that could ever make up for being so evil.

A third song. Sensual, romantic. It reminded her of candlelit love scenes in movies. She really wanted to throw up again. She went to the toilet for another round. Then she rinsed her mouth out three times. Too bad she didn't have her purse on her.

By the fourth song she was bending over the sink and weeping, snot rolling out of her nose. She blew her nose several times. Her poor sinuses probably hated her at that point.

The music stopped. Shawn the Shithead's voice cooed out, "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell!" Pearl hoped she wouldn't get a nosebleed. That happened sometimes, especially when she was blowing her nose too much. "I need more time to process this!"

"You want some ginger ale? I got some in the fridge."

"No! It's fine!" Her belly convulsed a bit as more vomit teased her again. "Just ... just leave me alone. Please? I'm sorry. I don't feel good."

The footsteps left again. "I'll be here when you feel better."

Damn it.

Pearl threw up once more. She was pretty sure there wasn't anything left in her stomach. She rinsed her mouth a few more times. Then she blew her nose for what she hoped was the last time, splashed water on her face, and tried to get a smoother breathing pattern.

She was trembling. Her legs gave in and she was on the cool tiled floor, her cheek pressing against the sink's cabinet. Smooth, varnished wood. A lovely piece for any bathroom.

More guitar music. It only enhanced her desperate need for her real fiancé. He had to come. He had to come and save her from this complicated nightmare.

A doorbell?! This fancy house apparently had a doorbell because Pearl heard it.

The music stopped. Footsteps. "Coming!" Shawn was apparently going to see who was at the door. Fine?

The minutes were slower than a snail. Pearl pushed herself upright and listened. If there was a ticking clock nearby, she'd have noticed it. It would've made her go even more crazy.

A gunshot!

Pearl gasped and got to her feet. She hoped nobody was about to shoot her.

A man's voice was unusually clear for being downstairs. "STAY THE FUCK DOWN!! WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!"

Please be Darren! Please be Darren!

Pearl folded her arms and held her breath as quick footsteps hurried upstairs.

"Baby? It's me!" The bathroom's doorknob loudly jerked around. Pearl was grateful that she'd kept the sense to lock it beforehand. "Open the door, please!" He sounded so tired but also so desperate. "Hurry up! Open the damn door! I shot him in the leg, but he might get up anyway!"

Pearl stepped forward. She reached out, but then her arm drew back. "Darren?"

"Yes! It's me! I texted you. I got on camera for you. It's me!"

Shawn the Shithead wasn't supposed to know about that.

Pearl unlocked the door and opened it.

The man was wearing an old shirt with a cracking cross decal. Pearl had seen it before in the closet at home. Darren almost never wore that shirt. The worn jeans he had on looked familiar too. So did the gun in his holster, or the handle did at least. He had his key-chain back, his cell phone too. Both were clipped on the jeans. He must've taken them back from the Shithead.

His troubled face made room for a great smile as his long arms spread out. "Come here!"

Pearl hugged him. This was Darren, had to be. He held her up and kissed her face. Then he put her back down and told her to get her shoes and purse.

"What's going on?" she asked as she followed him. "Why didn't you tell me you had a twin brother?"

"I'll tell you when we get home." He took her hand and firmly laced the fingers. He really didn't want to let her go. "I'll take you to town first, so you can get the other truck."

Pearl sighed and just accepted the situation. At least she had the knowledge that this would be sorted out eventually. Downstairs, they saw Shawn in the kitchen, using a towel to lessen the blood flow in his leg. He was smiling, and even did more of that when he saw the couple. He happily said, "Drive safely!" He would've waved at them, or Pearl thought so, but he wasn't in a position to do that.

"Ignore him," Darren gruffly ordered.

Fine by her. She got her purse and made sure everything was inside it. Then she got her shoes and followed Darren outside to his truck, his normal truck that she felt so safe in. It was another symbol of home.

She thought to interrogate Darren during the ride back to town, but she assumed he was probably gathering his thoughts. This weirdness was apparently horror movie levels of fucked up. He needed to think about everything before dumping it on her head. So, Pearl hushed and enjoyed the relief of finally getting away from the creepy Shithead.

She hoped the coming explanation would make sense.

In town, Pearl got into the other truck. Then they drove all the way back home. Pearl was feeling much more energetic once she parked in the garage.

In the living room, the dogs perked up and wagged their tails. They were given many head pats and belly rubs. Then, when Darren seemed to have had enough of it, he took Pearl's hand again and led her up to the bedroom. Their shoes were left downstairs. They laid down on the bed without any worries over dirt.

When Pearl was nuzzling Darren's chest, her skin rubbing against the old decal, she finally asked in a tired voice, "What the hell was all that about?"

"I ... well," here, he was gently pinching her ear, "that's my twin brother."

"Shawn," Pearl said, almost regretting saying the name. It made her think she was tasting nasty things and pity everyone else on the planet with the same name. Her lips scrunched like she had a lemon rind in her mouth. She wasn't fond of lemon rinds.

Darren's chest heaved a little harder for a moment. "Nobody in the family wants to even talk about him anymore."

"Why the hell not?"

"Extreme black sheep." He moved his fingers to her scalp. "But maybe that's not a good way to put it. It's more like," a miserable breath here, "he went too damn far."

"What did he do?"

Darren tugged on her hair a little, not hard. She liked it. "It was a long time ago," he said. "I caught him hitting a woman. It wasn't self defense. I smashed his face into a tree. We didn't want the cops involved, we tried to find the woman to make peace with her, but she went missing. Then we found out she was an illegal alien. The cops didn't go looking for her. She'd never wanted the government to notice her anyway. Whatever happened to her wasn't formally investigated."

Trying not to let her imagination turn wild, Pearl asked, "Did anyone ever find out what happened to her?"

"No, but we found out something else." His arms curled around her body, making her happily sigh and close her eyes. "Shawn ran off somewhere, hadn't heard from him in years. But he showed up to a family reunion one day. Daddy almost had a heart attack. Then Shawn visited us once in a while, but over time we figured out something was wrong with him. Something was wrong with the people we saw him with."

"Eventually," he continued, "we learned he was in charge of a massage parlor that was really a fucked up brothel. Pretty much all the employees were illegal women, and we don't think they agreed to do this kind of work. He might've been dealing drugs too."

Pearl said, "Nobody called the cops?"

His fingers tightened. "If Shawn was imprisoned, then eventually Aaron would force himself out. He has to come out. It's like taking a piss or something. You can't hold it in forever, not without killing yourself."

Rotating one of her feet, popping joints, Pearl asked, "Who's Aaron?"

"Shawn's beast."

Remembering what she experienced in that big house, she shuddered. "Oh. Okay. Like Reese but scarier."

"Yeah. Well, Shawn had figured out something a long time ago. The family would gladly cover up for him whenever he did something illegal, no matter what it was. But that didn't mean we'd put up with it. Daddy and I were ready to whoop his ass. if you're going to be a pimp, be a good one. Keep whores, not sex slaves."

Pearl groaned a little. Illegal aliens were easier to take advantage of than citizens. That was one of the reasons why she was so personally against illegal immigration. There were various economic reasons too. Legal immigration was perfectly fine with her, however.

"Shawn disappeared again," Darren said, "and so did all those women. The massage parlor was boarded up. We were pretty damn sure he's in charge of a human trafficking ring, or at least a major part of one, but we couldn't do anything about it. We had no idea where he was."

"But now you do," Pearl said as she gripped one of his arms. "Isn't it better to report him? What about all those women he's hurting?"

Another long, painful breath came from him.

"Honey, if this beast stuff came out, who knows what will happen?" His arms tightened around her. It made her think he was frightened of something. "China put Muslims in concentration camps just because they don't like them, and they harvest their damn organs. I know America is supposed to be better, and I'm patriotic, but governments are made of people and I don't trust most people. Corruption can be anywhere. I don't want to be strapped somewhere and cut up like a dead frog in a classroom."

Pearl's fingernails almost bit into his arm. "But! But those poor women!"

"Those women shouldn't have snuck over here in the first place!"

Quiet.

Pearl was oddly cold. She even shivered.

That was one of the cruelest things she'd ever heard Darren say.

"Listen ... Honey." He reached up to pet her head again. "I don't think they deserve what's happening. I don't want it to happen. But I do think that if you choose to break the law, and being undocumented, as some call it, is a crime, then you're choosing to put yourself in a vulnerable position, a position where it's really fucking easy for someone to hurt you."

"I feel awful for the kids that were dragged over here and never became legal," he said, "and I think the government should help them, but that's about it. It's not my responsibility to help a bunch of people that shouldn't even be here, that put themselves in this hellhole, especially when helping them would put me and my family at risk. Should I pick a bunch of strangers that shouldn't be here and ignore my own safety, plus my loved ones' safety? Nope. I'm picking loyalty over virtue."

"You can't just do nothing," Pearl squeaked out.

"There isn't much I can do," he murmured. "Even if I report this, those women will just be moved somewhere else before ICE can deal with it. Shawn's smart like that. Even if the women were rescued and deported, they might just find another way back in. Even if they don't come back, they'll probably get pimped out again. It's not exactly safe down south." He pulled her up closer, putting his nose and lips in her hair. "I don't blame them for wanting to come here. I don't. It's a fucked up problem. I wish we could hold everyone who wants to come, but we can't."

"And Shawn's taking advantage of the problem." Pearl thought her face was hurting from all her wincing and overall sadness.

"Maybe the best thing to do is to just fucking kill him," Darren suddenly thought aloud.

The scary part was that Pearl wasn't shocked. "Make it look like a wild animal did it. Reese needs to come out."