Dark Notes

by Pam Godwin

As I take a step off the front lawn, I try to shed the past ten minutes from my mind by compartmentalizing it into baggage. The old-style kind, bound in brown leather with those little tan buckles. Then I picture the baggage sitting on the porch. It stays here, because I can only carry so much.

“A slut?” I lower my voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “I haven’t had sex in a while. I mean, it’s been like forty-eight hours.” I turn away, wait for their gasps, and spin back, grinning at Ann. “But your dad promised he’d make up for his lapse tonight.”

Now is the time to run, but my feet aren’t moving. Why? I need his permission, I think. I want his permission.

“I don’t want to share you.” “Too bad.” “Fuck, Ivory! You’re so—” He rubs his hairless cheek and softens his tone. “I got an increase in my allowance. I’ll pay you more, enough to cover what you’re making from everyone else, if you stop seeing them. Give me a price.”

She blinks up at me, eyes unfocused, and grooves crease her forehead. “Where did you go, gorgeous girl?” “Somewhere deep.”

“The gum.” She covers her mouth and whispers behind her fingers, “I just swallowed it.” Next time I’ll remind her to keep it so she can pass it back to me while my tongue is between her lips.

“I didn’t buy that piano to—” “I know. Which is why I sold it to you, and why I will never tell her you bought it, even if she asks.” He bends closer, hands braced on the counter. “She owes you nothing.”

“You’re disobeying me.” I press my cheek against the ledge of his pecs. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” “I will hurt you.” “Okay.”

“Mr. Marceaux?” I rub my palms on my thighs, holding his gaze, and whisper, “You’re sharing your notes.” Lines form on his forehead as he grips the back of his neck. “What?” “I feel your notes. Here.” I touch my breastbone, my voice shaking. “They’re dark and hypnotic, like your breaths and your heartbeats.”

“You won’t just lose your job. You’ll go to jail. He’s not worth it.” I reach up and grip her hand against my heaving chest. “But you are. You’re worth it.”

Our hypnotic, dark notes.

Christ, this girl… She’s my music, my place in this life, my part in it all.

“But I’m not stopping, Ivory.” Another hungry kiss. “You’re mine.”

“You have no idea what that does to me.” “What?” “The way you stare at me like I’m worth more to you than”—he glances around the room—”a big fancy house.”

I push the little black flats off her heels and let them drop to the floor. If she only knew how many size-seven replacements I’ve bought her. The whole damn closet behind me is filled, not just with shoes, but clothes and bags and… Jesus, I sound like a psychopath, even in my head.

body. The bed frame creaks as I kiss her deeper, pull her closer, pursuing her with fingers and teeth, silently demanding she take everything I give her, because it’s all hers. I’m hers.

“You’re mine, Ivory. That means your problems are mine. Your bills, your worries, your safety…” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “All of it belongs to me.”

“I know how to touch my girl.”

I died somewhere between my release and his. And now I know how it feels to be alive.

she’s innocence wrapped in sin.

“I don’t share. That means no more high school or neighborhood boys. You’re in my bed and no one else’s.”

“It’s against the law. You’re my teacher!” “You’re my girl.” He lazily swipes the screen on his phone. “That’s the only law you need to worry about.” What? My head hammers. “You’re insane.” “You’re mine.”

I look forward to her reaction when I give her a car.

I just wanted to see her smile one more time. Now I can breathe again.

I’ve never lived with a pet, but he seems friendly enough. The shedding, though… “Can we shave this thing?” I shout toward the back room. The creak of her footsteps pauses. “I thought you didn’t like shaved pussies.”

The power is mine. I bask in it. His hands tremble, and I grab them, hold them, our fingers intertwined. I have him.

Today’s lesson: the worst punishment is a denied orgasm.

My heart squeezes and shrivels. She knows him better than I do. He’s been inside her, put a baby in her, and I’m… I don’t know what I am to him. We haven’t even had sex.

I’m his Ivory, and he’s my darkest note.

I open my eyes and collide with his, a smile pulling at my cheeks. “I’m fucking my teacher.”

“I love you.” I’m not the first woman who’s said those words to him, but I’ll make damn sure I’m the last. I comb my fingers through his hair. “The kind of love that doesn’t end in betrayal.”

“Name a song that’s not boring.” The tick of your watch. The harmony of your breaths. The tempo of your heart. The notes I feel whenever you’re near.

“You want to see my come?” I grip her wrist and hold her palm against my erection, desperate for relief. “You can watch it drip out of your cunt.”