NightWhere

Chapter Eight

Home Alone

When Mark pulled the car into the garage at 4:00 a.m. after their evening at NightWhere, Rae was out the door almost before he put the thing in Park. She had said nothing the entire ride home; she’d simply stared out the window, as if she were watching a movie.

He followed her into the house and kicked his shoes off as she went to the fridge and tilted back a bottle of water. He saw something sticking out of the middle of her purse on the table, and he stepped over to see what it was. The paper was red, with black writing on it.

“What’s this?” he asked while pulling it out.

Rae shrugged and set the bottle down.

He looked at it and held it out to her. The front had a simple illustration on it-a black snake, twined in a circle until its mouth met and ate its own tail. Around the image, in black letters, it said simply, “The Red”.

Rae looked at it and then reached out to take it and shove it back in her purse. “Just a flyer,” she said. “Someone handed it to me at the club.”

But Mark knew better. He heard Selena’s voice in his head: “Has she mentioned The Red yet? If she goes in there, you will never have her back, I’m just warning you.”

An hour later, Mark watched her sleeping and knew that something was different. In all of the times they had played the switch-partners game, Rae had never come home to him so silent. So elsewhere. The first time at NightWhere, she had returned to their bedroom excited.

The second time, she returned, but did not really return. On their ride home she had stared out the window. He’d asked how she’d enjoyed her night, and she’d sighed a distant, “Fine.” She didn’t ask about his experience. And she wouldn’t elaborate on her own.

When she’d joined him in bed, she had given him a smile and a quick peck on the lips-the way old people might say good night. Then she had rolled on her back and groaned slightly, before closing her eyes. That was it. She was gone.

Mark was scared to death about what would happen the next time they went. Would she come home with him at all?

“I’m worried,” Mark said the following night. He’d met Randy after work up at the Quigley’s. “It’s never been like this between us.”

“Have you talked to her about it?” Randy asked, lifting a Guinness from the bar and taking a long swig. “You know that making this thing work is tricky. It’s not like a normal relationship, but the key is still communication.”

Randy was a friend that Mark had made at one of the swingers clubs he and Rae had spent many a weekend at over the past year. In fact, Randy had slept with Rae several times; they had even had him over to the house a few nights. Mark trusted him with more than just his friendship.

“I’ve tried to ask her about it, but she clams up every time. She just says this club gives her what she’s been looking for. What she needs.”

“Then that’s a good thing,” Randy said. “If you can handle it.”

Mark laughed. “You know I can handle her with others. This is different. Something else is going on here. I’m worried about this pain fixation she’s got now. All she ever wants seems to be whips and pain…”

Randy frowned. “She’s always been kind of aggressive but…I don’t know what to tell you there. I know S &M’s a big part of this NightWhere club. I’ve never been there, but the people who get invited…they’re pain freaks. That’s the rep. All I can say is that if you want to keep getting invited, you’re going to have to find a way to play along.”

“Do you know anyone else who goes?”

Randy tilted back his beer and belched. Then he winked at Mark and grinned. “Not really. They don’t let pigs in.” He stretched and looked at the ceiling a minute, visibly thinking.

“You know, people talk about NightWhere, but nobody really knows much about it. It’s almost like an urban legend. There was a woman who used to hang out with us-and I mean, literally hung out-the chick was fuckin’ stacked! She was one of those who was into the flogging and stuff, used to have nipple piercings and shit. Loved to get bent over the couch and have her hair pulled during, you know? She used to talk about wanting to find NightWhere, and then one weekend she came back to the club and said she’d been there. I remember it because she had really beautiful skin when she came to the club-perfect complexion, no tattoos or moles or zits or anything like that. Pretty, though she had a little extra on the side, you know? Anyway, after NightWhere, she showed up with whip marks all over her body. I was afraid to touch her-I remember that-I was afraid she’d start bleeding on me! But she talked about NightWhere the same way it sounds like Rae is-she was absolutely in love with it, even though it looked like they’d thrown her under a truck. She talked about one of the guys there too; I sort of wondered if she was more into him than anything else. But I never got the chance really to ask her.”

“Why not?”

“She never came back to the club again after that night.” Randy shook his head. “You know, people kind of come and go through the club over time. I’d guess there were probably some others who didn’t come back after they found NightWhere. I mean-look at you guys, for example. Haven’t seen you in weeks. Does Rae want to come back?”

Mark shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned it since the first night at NightWhere.”

“See what I mean? We’ve had others at the club who had a thing for whips and chains…they never stick around that long. Whether that’s ’cuz they were bored since most of us don’t go there, or because they got sucked into NightWhere…who knows? All I know for sure is, they didn’t come back.”