Daphne

 

“Shit!”

 

Daphne Carver snatched her phone off of the dining room table. Turning it on, she checked the time and saw that she was, as usual, running behind for work.

 

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

 

Daphne gasped and turned around and saw that Jack, her three-year-old son, was standing right behind her.

 

“What’s ‘shit’?”

 

“Um, nothing,” said Daphne, shoving her phone into her pocket. “I mean, it’s not nothing; it’s a bad word; don’t ever say it.”

 

“Don’t say ‘shit’?” asked Jack, looking up at her with his big blue eyes.

 

“Just like that,” said Daphne. “That’s the word, but don’t say it.”

 

“Um, okay,” said Jack, clearly confused about the whole situation.

 

Daphne knew that she didn’t have time to explain things. She rushed to her bedroom and began going through the clothes in her closet, trying to find something among her work outfits that was clean and pressed for her shift at Hendrick’s, the boutique clothing store where she’d worked for a year, and recently been promoted to assistant manager. She leafed through the outfits of chic, trendy clothes that she’d purchased with her discount from work, taking a little pleasure in the fact that she at least had a halfway decent wardrobe.

 

She settled on a simple pair of stylish gray slacks and a white blouse; Daphne knew she didn’t have time to assemble a more complicated outfit. Once dressed, she looked herself over in the mirror. Daphne was a pretty, twenty-five-year-old girl with short, dark hair styled in a pixie cut, and a face that was slim and angular, with elfin features. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and her lips were a small but full Cupid’s bow. Leaning close to the vanity, she applied a little bit of makeup, her eyes on the phone as the time ticked closer and closer to the time she absolutely, positively, had to be out the door.

 

Daphne finished the rest of her getting ready process as quickly as she could.

 

“Are you working today, Mommy?” asked Jack from the entrance to her room.

 

“Yes,” said Daphne, applying her eyeliner. “Mommy’s working during the day today.”

 

“But it’s a Saturday,” said Jack. “Grown-ups don’t work on Saturdays, right?”

 

“This grown-up does,” said Daphne, putting on the finishing touches and placing her makeup back in the kit.

 

“But why?” asked Jack.

 

Daphne turned to her son, who had a pleading expression on his adorable face, as though he could convince her of how silly it was that she was working and get her to stay home. Like always, Daphne was struck by just how closely Jack resembled his father, Xander. Jack had the same piercing blue eyes, the same chocolate-brown hair, and even the same headstrong, stubborn attitude.

 

“You like pizza, right?” asked Daphne.

 

“Yep, with extra pepperoni,” said Jack, his eyes widening at the idea of his favorite food.

 

“And you like your PlayStation, right?”

 

“Uh—huh.”

 

“And you like having a roof over your head when it’s all rainy and stormy out, right? Some people have to stay outside in the rain, you know.”

 

“Really?” asked Jack. “That’s weird.”

 

“Some people aren’t as lucky as you and I,” said Daphne, walking over to her son and scooping him up off the ground. “Some people don’t have all the things we do.”

 

Truth be told, Daphne didn’t feel like the lucky person she was making herself out to be to Jack. In the years since she’d left Xander, life had been hard for her and Jack. When he was a baby, she had been dependent on the charity of her family, having to move from month to month to various aunts and uncles and cousins’ houses, staying as long as she could and leaving when she felt she was being too much of a burden.

 

Finally, her Aunt Caroline in St. Louis, having been a single mother at one time, had given her the offer of staying with her for as long as it took for Daphne to get her head above water. So Daphne had moved in and taken the first job she could find: cashier at Hendrick’s, an upscale women’s boutique in one of the trendier parts of town. Daphne had taken the job and worked her fingers to the bone, working whenever the manager needed her and saving every last dollar she could. After a year and a half of work, she’d managed to move her way slowly up the ladder at Hendrick’s, going from cashier to shift leader and eventually, to her current position as assistant manager. This promotion was more responsibility and more hours, but gave her the income she needed to finally be able to afford a place of her own.

 

“Why not?” asked Jack, who was right in the middle of the phase in a child’s life when “why” is their favorite word.

 

“Because some people just have harder lives. You’ll understand when you get older.”

 

“You always say that,” said Jack.

 

“Because it’s true,” said Daphne. “You’re such a smart little kid; there isn’t much you’re not going to understand when you’re a grown-up.”

 

“Then I want to be a grown-up now,” said Jack.

 

“No, no,” said Daphne. “Trust me—you absolutely do not.”

 

Daphne set Jack down and checked her phone, sighing with relief when she realized she’d caught up on running behind.

 

“There’s no kindergarten today,” said Jack. “Does that mean I get to come with you to work?”

 

“No, it means that you get to spend the day with Amy and Jason.”

 

“Really?” he said, his eyes going wide.

 

“Really,” Daphne said.

 

Amy was another single mother who lived in the building and had a son about the same age as Jack. Amy, however, was the recipient of a pretty sizable alimony payment from her ex-husband, one that allowed her to have a part-time job. Daphne and Amy were close, and so were Jack and Jason.

 

Before Daphne could think another thought, her phone buzzed again. She slipped it out of her pocket, fearing that it was her job asking her if she could come in even earlier. But instead, she saw that it was a text from Margaret, a friend of hers for years now, and one who Daphne had very little time for now that she was a mother.

 

You know what day it is today, right?

 

Daphne thought hard, realizing that between her work and Jack, she had to think to even remember what month it was.

 

I’m stumped.

 

Moments later came the reply.

 

: ( It’s my birthday, girl! Come out tonight and get drunk with me!

 

Daphne paused, trying to remember when the last time was that she’d had more than just a single glass of wine after a hard day’s work. During her harder times, Daphne had seen what happened to single parents who spent too much time “unwinding” after hard days at work, and understood the toll it could take. She’d vowed to never be a parent like that.

 

I don’t know … maybe …

 

Her phone buzzed in her hand right away.

 

No maybes. I haven’t seen you for months, and if there’s one day that I get what I want, it’s my birthday.

 

Daphne thought about it, realizing that a night out with some friends did sound pretty nice. But it all depended on if Amy would take Jack for the evening.

 

Let me check with the sitter. I’ll let you know in a minute.

 

Then the response.

 

Better be yes! Bring Jack if you have to!

 

Daphne shuddered at the idea.

 

Spoken like a true non-parent, she thought to herself.

 

“Hey, Jack,” said Daphne. “What do you think about a sleepover tonight at Jason’s?”

 

“Awesome!” he said.

 

“Okay, I still have to ask Amy, but Mommy’s friend wants her to come out tonight.”

 

“Okay!”

 

Jack was clearly excited by the prospect.

 

Giving herself one last once-over in the mirror, Daphne left with Jack in tow. They headed down to the floor below and to Amy’s door. Daphne gave the door a quick rap, her stomach tightening at the idea of having to ask Amy for yet another favor.

 

Soon, the door opened to reveal Amy. A blonde beauty in the classic homemaker-style, Amy was one of those women who never seemed to have a strand of hair out of place. She had bright blue eyes, a warm smile, and skin that seemed to Daphne to glow.

 

“Hi, Amy!” shouted Jack before either of the two women could speak.

 

“There’s my big man,” said Amy, kneeling down and giving Jack a big hug.

 

“Jack!” shouted Jason as he ran to his mother’s side.

 

Jack and Jason greeted one another and ran off, disappearing into the apartment.

 

“Those two don’t waste any time,” said Amy. “Brothers from different mothers, if you ask me.”

 

“Thank you so much for watching Jack today,” said Daphne, her voice earnest.

 

“You know he’s welcome over here whenever he wants,” said Amy.

 

Daphne’s eyes flicked over Amy’s shoulder, noting the expensive furniture and décor that made Daphne feel like she lived in a flophouse.

 

“And,” said Daphne, working up the courage to ask, “there’s something else I wanted to ask you …”

 

“Sleepover?” asked Amy.

 

“How did you know?” responded Daphne, her eyes going wide with surprise.

 

“Just call it a single-mother sixth sense,” Amy said. “It’s not hard to tell when a mom needs a night out.”

 

“It’s just that it’s my friend’s birthday and I haven’t seen her in so long and I’ve just been working all the time and—”

 

The words came out in a wild flurry, Daphne not even taking a breath as she poured out her reasons. Amy responded by holding her hand up.

 

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” said Amy. “I’m your neighbor; I know how hard you bust your ass every day for that kid.”

 

Her voice hushed as she said “ass,” her motherly instinct kicking in.

 

“And it’s not like Jason won’t be happy about it,” she continued. “I’ll order them a pizza later, maybe take ’em to a movie; they’ll love it.”

 

“Thank you so, so, so much,” Daphne said. “I just feel like I’m going crazy sometimes.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Amy with a smile. “You’re not gonna find a man in your apartment, you know.”

 

“Yeah, definitely,” said Daphne, feeling the idea of her meeting anyone was totally ridiculous.

 

“Okay,” said Amy. “I’ll take over from here; I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

 

Daphne shot out some more “thank-yous” as Amy shut the door. Once the door was closed, Daphne remember that she had to be at work, and soon. She rushed down the stairs of the apartment and was soon in her cheap Honda and on the road to start the hour-drive to Hendrick’s.

 

During the drive, she found her mind drifting back to nearly four years ago, when she first learned that she was pregnant with Jack. At the time, she’d been involved with Xander for around a year, and she was in love in a way that she hadn’t known was even possible. The two had met at a kegger, and Daphne could recall with perfect clarity her and Xander’s eyes meeting for the first time. As she drove, a small smile formed on her lips as she thought back to Xander standing near the kegger bonfire, a beer in hand, the orange of the fire reflecting off of his thick biceps.

 

Goddammit, she thought, turning her attention back to the road. Focus!

 

She straightened her car on the narrow lane of the boulevard and tried to clear her mind. But it was no use; her thoughts drifted back to her former love.

 

Xander was like no man she’d ever met before. He was dangerous, bold, and dripping with testosterone. Xander was the kind of man that Daphne knew was nothing but trouble, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to him despite the voice in her head telling her to stay far away.

 

Once Xander caught her eye that night he didn’t waste any time in approaching her. Daphne remembered it with fondness; Xander was nothing if not bold, and the type of man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go get it. He worked his rugged charm and Daphne remembered realizing that she didn’t have a chance. After a few drinks around the bonfire, their bodies moving closer and closer to one another as they talked, they ended up taking a ride his motorcycle for a quick ride into the woods.

 

Daphne remembered that ride like it was yesterday. She thought back to the feel of Xander’s hard but trim body through the cool leather of his vest as she wrapped her arms tight around him. She remembered the industrial smell of the engine’s exhaust mixing with the fresh scent of the woods around them. She remembered the full moon peeking through the branches that formed a canopy over the road. And, of course, she remembered just how incredibly hot their lovemaking was when they pulled over, unable to keep their hands off of one another during their ride.

 

The shrill honk of a car behind her snapped Daphne out of her daydreaming. Coming back to reality, she saw that the light ahead of her was now green. Offering a feeble apology wave to the driver of the honking car as he pulled past, Daphne turned her attention back to the road.

 

The passion between Daphne and Xander started that night and only grew as their relationship went on. During the first few weeks of their relationship, Xander made it clear to Daphne, typically after a particularly heated session of lovemaking, that she shouldn’t get her hopes up, that he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to settle on one woman. At first, these comments made her blood run cold—though they’d only been dating for a short time, she knew that she didn’t want to lose him. But when weeks turned to months and Daphne found herself hearing the same speech, though now with decreasing frequency, her reaction to his warnings turned from fear to almost amusement.

 

His mouth says one thing, she remembered thinking one night, but everything else says something entirely different.

 

For a time, Daphne thought she might’ve found the one. But there was still something nagging her, something that tugged at the back of her mind—just why was Xander so secretive about his work? Xander knew that Daphne was a waitress—that had been covered right away—but whenever the subject of what he did for money came up, he would, without fail, dismiss the subject out of hand.

 

“Don’t worry about where my money comes from,” she remembered him saying one day. “I make enough to take good care of you; that’s all you need to know.”

 

And he was right; Xander was an old-fashioned kind of guy who believed that a woman shouldn’t have to pay for a damn thing. Dinners out, shopping trips, weekends out of town—Xander was happy to provide them all. But only on the condition that Daphne didn’t ask where the money came from. All he’d say was that he worked for a “distributer;” any more details beyond that were off-limits.

 

Daphne, however, couldn’t leave well enough alone. At first, it was only the strange, irregular hours that Xander worked which raised Daphne’s eyebrow. But she was able to write this off easily enough—after all, not everyone worked a nine-to-five. She, as a waitress, understood this. But soon, things began to happen that she wasn’t able to dismiss so easily. Xander would come home with cuts and bruises, looking like he’d just been in a fight. His irregular hours turned into all-night affairs, with him sometimes taking calls in the dead of night and leaving for hours at a time, arriving back later as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Once, when putting away their laundry, she found a pistol buried in the back of Xander’s sock drawer.

 

And that was all to say nothing of his friends, who were a group of the meanest-looking bikers she’d ever laid eyes on. Daphne knew by the fearsome-looking patch on Xander’s leather vest that they called themselves the “Shadow Hunters,” but any details beyond that weren’t up for discussion.

 

Daphne managed to live in ignorance for a time, silencing the nagging voice in her head by telling herself over and over that Xander was just a guy who liked to live on the edge, and liked to keep his work and home life separate. She even managed to convince herself that the two of them might have a future together, one with a nice house in the suburbs and two cars in the garage.

 

Daphne shuddered at that, ashamed at how naïve she’d been.

 

After around a year of dating, Daphne began experiencing strange symptoms, most noticeable of which were the vomiting spells that she had early in the mornings. It didn’t take her long to realize that she just might be pregnant. She eventually worked up the nerve to take a test, and sure enough, it came back positive. She should’ve been overjoyed, but the issue of Xander’s work still gnawed away at her. So, before she told Xander the news, she resolved to find out just what it was that he did for money, just why he stayed out so late, just how he came back looking so rough and beat-up.

 

So, one night, when Xander when out for one of his late-night “meetings,” Daphne decided to do a little detective work. She pretended to sleep when Xander got up to leave, and, after throwing on some clothes, she rushed to her car and followed him. She remembered how her heart pounded that night through the entire drive; she was worried beyond belief that she might be caught.

 

Eventually, Xander pulled up to a warehouse far outside of the city, a dozen or so other bikes parked in front. Watching from afar, she scanned the men in the group, recognizing them as some of the other members of the Shadow Hunters.

 

But she wasn’t ready for what she saw next.

 

Soon after she arrived, a large black van arrived and parked near the entrance of the warehouse. The Shadow Hunters gathered around it, all of them with eager expressions on their faces. Then, to her horror, she watched as one of the men opened the backdoors of the van, reached in, and pulled out two bound and bloody men. Daphne could remember with perfect clarity to this day the muffled cries of the men through the duct tape that covered their mouths. Xander and the rest of the Shadow Hunters dragged the men into the warehouse. Each of Daphne’s heartbeats was as loud as a cannon, but she knew she had to see just what the Shadow Hunters had in store for the men.

 

Once everyone was inside, she snuck up to the warehouse and entered through a side door. Hiding behind a large set of steel shelves, she watched as the Shadow Hunters strapped the men down into a pair of chairs and began interrogating them, Xander taking the lead. For the next half hour or so, Xander worked the two men over, demanding information about “shipments” and “cargo,” in between driving hard punches into their faces and stomachs.

 

Daphne watched the events with horror. She remembered the men begging to be let go, and how they spit blood on the concrete ground when Xander delivered a particularly hard punch. Eventually, she fled out of fear, getting back in her car and driving home as fast as she could. Once back at home, she rushed into bed, hiding under the covers as though a monster were lurking nearby. She cried for hours, realizing the man she thought she knew was someone else entirely.

 

Again, as she drove, Daphne looked back on that night with frustrated shame, wondering just how what she learned about Xander that night could’ve been any kind of shock at all.

 

I was living in total denial, she thought as she turned off the highway.

 

The next morning, she made a decision. She vowed that the baby she carried inside of her would never be exposed to the life that Xander led. And as the days went on, Xander became more and more like a stranger to her. After all, if he’d kept something like this from her, what else was he hiding?

 

So, two weeks after that fateful night, she made the decision to leave him. She wouldn’t say a word, knowing that he’d likely take the news very poorly. Daphne packed up her things, shoved them into her car, and drove off, no destination in mind other than being as far away from Xander as possible.

 

Daphne knew she had made the right decision, but in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but feel regret for what she’d done. And she never heard from Xander again.

 

The vibration of her phone in her pocket snapped her out of her reverie. Shaking her head and coming back to the present, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and checked the incoming message.

 

Sure enough, it was from Margaret.

 

Tell me good news, girlie.

 

A smile forming on her lips, Daphne typed in that she’d be there.

 

Fuck, yeah! Meet me at my house. You do remember where that is, right?

 

Daphne smirked as she responded.

 

Come on, it hasn’t been that long.

 

Moments later came the reply.

 

I don’t know … I’m worried I might not even recognize you. Anyway, come ready to party!

 

Daphne confirmed, sending the text after coming to a stop in the parking lot of Hendrick’s.

 

But she couldn’t help but sit there at her wheel for a time, thoughts of the man she’d left running through her mind.