One Night Stand

“Well that was fun,” she said, drawing short gasps for air.  

Ben pulled his half exposed body up beneath the sheets, propping himself up on the pillows laying against the headboard.  “Yeah.  Yeah it was pretty fun.”

She hopped out of bed, her athletic body still bare.  The floor creaked under the newly replaced carpet as she almost skipped to the window.  Her features became illuminated as she stepped into the cone of light protruding from the window.  Her hands found her hips as she gazed at the different colors of lights being emitted from the world outside.

“Do you mind putting some clothes on if you’re going to stand in the window?” Ben asked, rubbing his eyebrows with his thumb and pointer finger.  

She was silent for a moment.  She seemed to be in some kind of a trance.  Her eyebrows had dropped and the corners of her mouth were lower than they had been the rest of that night.  

Her eyes fluttered and her smile that Ben thought was permanently plastered to her face returned.  “It’s really not a big deal, Benjamin.  Nobody here cares.  Remember?  Whatever happens here stays here?”  She turned her shoulders slightly to Ben and gave him a wink, her smile grew even bigger.

He sighed and relaxed his muscles, lying down flat on the bed.  He was fully aware of what he had said but that was just the hormones talking, or so he told himself.

She pranced back to the bed and jumped on it, her arm landing on Ben’s stomach.  He let out a grunt and closed his eyes as his lips formed thin lines.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like me,” she teased, one arm propping her head up, the other tracing his chest.  “With the way you were talking to me tonight, I think you’ve got a little soft spot for me already.  The guy behind the bar said it looked like there might even be a second date.”  Her eyes seemed to narrow as they fixed themselves on Ben’s; he could tell she was wearing a big grin even without looking toward her mouth.

Ben snickered, “Lenny?  Don’t listen to that guy, he just loves messing with me.”

She forced a frown, the corners of her mouth twitching, threatening to smile once again.  After a few seconds, Ben released a few laughs.

“There’s that smile.  Haven’t seen that since we got here.”  She set her hand on his chest and leaned in.  

They kissed for a moment before Ben pulled back.  “Okay, okay.  Give me a few minutes to recharge here.  Geez,” he said with a slight grin.  

She giggled and bit her lip.  “Fine,” she sighed, drawing out the ‘i’, “I guess I can wait a little bit.”  She hopped out of the bed and started to make her way towards the door.  

“Where ya going?” Ben asked, getting out of bed himself now.

By the time he had gotten this question out, she was already out of the room.  “I figured I’d cook us up a little something, I’m starving,” her voice echoed from down the short hallway.  

His pants were pulled on now and he was sitting on the bottom end of the bed.  As he switched the TV on, he said: “Umm… okay.  I guess.  I’m not sure how much food I have in there to cook.”

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” she shouted, the sound of cupboards closing confirmed his estimate.

Ben didn’t feel a need to respond; he got the sense that she was going to find a meal to cook anyway.  His attention turned to the TV; News Channel 19.  Some new horror movie broke the box office record for an opening weekend since COVID started.  Apparently, there was a shortage of chicken across the U.S.  Next week, they could expect the hottest temperatures the city had seen yet this year.  

Hmm, must’ve been an uneventful weekend if they’re not talking about anything local, Ben thought to himself.

He had spoken too soon.  The news anchor with the bald head and monotone voice interrupted this generally uneventful string of news stories; “Breaking news from The Strip: a local man has been murdered and the killer is at large.  Officials say that Nick Simpson, 34, a 6’2, 240 pound white male murdered Dave Evans after Simpson discovered that his girlfriend was having an affair with Evans.  Simpson’s girlfriend--”

“Hey, do you want eggs or a sandwich?  That’s about all I could find,” she asked, the rhythmic sound of her waltzing announcing her presence even before her voice.

Ben’s gaze stayed on the TV as he responded; “Eggs are fine.  I should probably get my protein in, anyway.”  He pointed toward her and then swung his finger over to the TV, “Hey Sara, come check this out.  Some dude got murdered down the street.”

There was silence for a moment as Ben continued to watch this news story.  After a few seconds, the world around Ben came back as he took a quick breath and turned his head to her.  Her stare was blank as she gazed at the TV, save for her eyebrows, which were pointed downwards, the skin between them compressed into a few ridges.  She kept this stare for a moment before her shoulders dropped and the life came back to her.

“It’s Kara, dummy.”  She turned toward the threshold and put her hand on the door frame, “He didn’t mean to do it, you know.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed as his head cocked a bit toward her.  The sound of the news reporter’s voice became drowned out.  “And just how would you know that?”

“He told me.”

She skipped back out of the room toward the kitchen, leaving Ben sitting like a statue.  His eyebrows pointed downwards quizzically as his pointer fingers formed a point in the center of his forehead, his thumbs holding his head up.  His mind raced with the endless possibilities of situations that could have led to this murderer telling Kara that he didn’t mean to do it.  Scenario after scenario popped into his head, not giving the previous time to fully form.  

A sizzling sound from the kitchen broke Ben’s trance.  He turned his head slightly toward the door, shifting his hands to continue holding his head up.  “W… What do you mean he told you?” he called, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

Kara responded in a rhythmic voice, like she was talking while dancing to a song that wasn’t even playing, “He texted me after it happened.  He said he only wanted to hurt him, let him know that he wasn’t a guy you wanted to mess with.”  She paused for a brief moment before saying in a matter-of-fact way; “It’s a shame, I liked Davey Boy.”

Ben froze.  He could feel his eyes drying as they stared, unblinking, at the ground.  The moisture on his hands grew but he couldn’t seem to move to wipe it off.  The taste of salt entered his mouth and he realized that it wasn’t just his hands that were sweaty.  

Well, there goes the chance meeting theory, Ben thought.  She actually knows this guy.  Well, maybe not.  Maybe he had been stalking her and found her number somehow.  Maybe--

“How do you want your eggs done?  Sorry, I never asked,” Kara yelled from the kitchen.

Ben barely heard her.  His attention had turned solely to the flat-screen on its stand.  Channel 19 had just returned from commercial break and the same reporter from a few minutes ago returned to the screen with new details on the murder down the street.  It turns out that not just the murderer was on the loose, the girlfriend was also unaccounted for.

Oh lovely, he killed his girlfriend too.

The reporter continued; “Kara Underwood was last seen in her apartment on 76th and Mason.”

Kara…?  That could just be a coincidence.  Right?

“If you see this woman or know of her whereabouts, we ask that you contact the proper authorities.”  The video of the reporter was cut and replaced with a still photo of a woman; silky blonde hair, sharp jawline, a radiant smile.

That smile.  That damn smile. 

“Wow, look at that.  I’m famous!”  Kara laughed from the doorway.  She walked in with two plates of eggs, both scrambled.  She grinned as she set the plates down on the bed (on a normal day, Ben would have sternly told her that there was no way that they were going to eat on the bed, but this was no normal day).

Sitting down on the bed now, she said: “You never answered my question, so I figured I’d make what I thought you would like.  You’re definitely a scrambled egg kind of guy aren’t you?” she said, teasingly.  

“Sara, do you realize how serious this is?” Ben prodded.  “Your boyfriend just murdered someone because of you and you’re worried about whether or not your pretty face is all over the news!”

She smiled and poked his chest, “See, I knew you thought I was pretty.”  She stabbed at a small mound of eggs and shoved it in her mouth.  While chewing, she continued: “And this is not because of me.  It was Nicky that killed him, not me.  And for the last time, it’s Kara.”

Ben stared, his mouth open, at her.  He stayed like this for a few seconds before blinking and said: “You cheated on him.  I think it’s pretty reasonable to be mad about getting cheated on.”

“I was just having funnnn.  I don’t cheat on Nicholas, I just like to have fun,” she said, putting another forkful of eggs in her mouth.  “Besides, he always calms down eventually.  He just needs to blow off some steam.”

“He killed someone, Sara!  I’d call that a little more than blowing off steam!”

Kara sighed, “It’s just what he needs to do, Benjamin.  I probably would’ve killed half of them myself if he didn’t,” she chuckled.  Her smile diminished, her eyes appearing more open now; “Most of them end up pissing me off by the end of the night anyway.  And let me tell ya, you’re really starting to piss me off with how many times you’ve messed up my name tonight.  Who the hell is Sara, anyway?”

Blinking repeatedly, he shook his head.  “I don’t even know a Sara.  I just… I wasn’t paying enough attention, I guess.”

“I guess not,” she said.  She pointed to the untouched plate of eggs next to her own, “Eat up, Benjamin.  I should probably get going before Nicholas comes looking for me.  Maybe we can go again before I leave.”  She winked and turned her head to the TV.  

Ben’s gaze hardened.  His mouth opened repeatedly but nothing came out.  How Kara was so calm was an absolute mystery to him.  Eventually, he stammered: “You… you think he’s going to come looking for you?”

Shaking her head as if Ben should’ve known this, she said: “He’s my boyfriend.  Of course he’s gonna come looking for me.”  She grabbed both plates and made her way to the door, “I’m gonna go wash my plate and warm up your eggs since they’re probably cold by now.  I made these for you and you don’t even have the decency to eat them.”

Ben’s chest started pulsing rapidly, his eyes twitching from side to side.  A pounding ache emerged from in between his eyebrows and he moved his hands to rub it.  

What the hell is going on? He thought.  There’s no way this is happening right now.  No way.  What the…

From the kitchen, he heard the running of water and metal hitting porcelain.  Ben’s thoughts had begun to fail him.  He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on; there was so much happening that he couldn’t piece together exactly what was happening.  There was only one thing that he knew for certain: he had to get out.

Ben got up from the end of the bed and threw on his shirt that Kara had ripped from his torso no more than an hour ago.  His eyes traversed the room, looking for something, anything that would help him.  He wasn’t even sure what he needed help with, he just knew he had to look.  He saw loose shirts draped over chairs, his framed degree, the remote for the TV.  Nothing helpful.

Ben grabbed at his hair, his scalp beginning to burn.  His head began to whip from side to side and his body turned too, making him look like a dog watching a bird fly around him.

The water stopped, the microwave a second after.  A little closer than last time, Kara said loudly: “I have to use the bathroom, quick.  I’ll be right back with your eggs.”  The bathroom door in the hallway shut and the metallic clink of the door locking rang through the hallway.

This was his chance.  He had to go now or he would have to go through her to leave.  His head turned more rapidly now until it fell upon his desk.  He wanted to sprint to it but told himself that this would attract Kara’s attention from the bathroom.  He speed-walked instead.  He slid the drawer open quickly and right there on top was his pocket knife.  He grabbed it and closed his eyes.

Good Lord, please don’t make me have to use this.  

His eyes opened and he put the knife in his right pocket; the side of his dominant hand.  He made his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.  Straight ahead, he could see the door to the apartment room.  His escape.

His footsteps slowed once he got into the hallway, almost tiptoeing as he passed the bathroom.  Once he got out of earshot, they quickened again.  He shoved his hand forward and clutched the doorknob.  His hand had just begun to turn the handle when his breath suddenly left him and his grip was lost.  He stumbled against the door as a pair of arms found their way around his neck and two hands fell together over his chest.

“Where ya going, Benjamin?  I thought we were going again?”  A laugh came as Ben felt a kiss on his cheek.  Kara turned him around, her arms angled upward as her arms remained around his neck.  

Ben blinked repeatedly, sweat running into his eyes, “I uhh… I had to go get some ice from the ice machine.  My headache is getting worse.”

Kara made a pouty face, “Aww, I’m sorry Benjamin.  But we don’t have time for that.  I want some more time alone with you before I go.”  She pulled herself in closer, so her lips were only an inch or two from his ear, and whispered: “I know that’s not really why you were leaving, anyway.  Don’t you want some more time with me?”

Ben’s head fell back and he pulled at the collar of his shirt, pulling it away from his body.  He needed to leave, he didn’t have time for this.  “Sara, I need to go.  I’m not waiting around until your boyfriend--”

“MY NAME IS KARA!!” she screamed.  A burst of flames erupted from his cheek as her open hand made contact with it.  Then another eruption on his shoulder.  Another on his chest.

Ben’s hand reached for his pocket but hesitated.  He shielded his face with his left hand and tried to reach for the doorknob again.  

This time, an explosion of pain arose from his ear.  He whipped around and shoved Kara with all of his force.  She collapsed to the floor, taking a nearby lamp with her as she fell.  She hit the floor elbow first and she grimaced with pain briefly before another look donned her face.  Her eyes widened drastically and her mouth stood barely open.  She wasn’t staring at Ben, rather, she was staring to the right of his waist.

In his hand was the knife.  He didn’t remember pulling it but there was no denying that he had.  There was no blood visible on either himself or Kara, so he must not have used it.

Kara’s face turned to one of sheer anger.  She scrambled around on the ground, trying to gain her footing.  He had the separation, he needed to go now.  He dropped the knife and turned toward the door, which he had gained some distance from in his scrap with Kara.

Now from behind him, Kara yelled: “IF NICKY BOY DOESN’T GET YOU, I WILL!!”

His breaths quickened as he limped toward the door, realizing that Kara had landed a few kicks while he tried to shove her.  Behind him, he could hear a step on the floor; she had found her footing.  

He reached the door.  His muscles twitched to reach his hand out to the door yet again.  A new noise stopped him right where he was, his hand not six inches from the knob.  A noise that echoed throughout the apartment and seemed to do the same to Ben’s bones

Someone was banging on the door.