Sitting on the couch during an ice storm, I scrolled through options to watch on TV as the lights flickered, making me wonder if the power might go out. The wind picked up even more. I got a little spooked and calmly reassured myself that everything was okay. Not quite convinced, I peeked around the room just to make sure. From the vantage point of my maroon couch, I could see all of the great room and part of the kitchen with the same gray flooring. Nothing stirred. Letting my caution wane, I told myself to stop being paranoid. A bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table in front of me, so I lifted it and returned to my focus of finding a program to get lost in. After a few remote clicks, I settled on a show about buying houses instead of a thriller or a horror movie. My heartbeat soon returned to normal and I laid back to enjoy a moment of peace.
At that moment, cool air seeped through cracks around the ill-fitted windows, so I pulled a comfy blanket around my shoulders. Winter has been long and brutal. It reminded me of personal darkness of so long ago…and his name was Vincens Lefebvre. Not a good idea to think about him. My blood pressure shot up again.
“I can’t believe I’m thinking about him,” I whispered to myself, though I’m sure I was lying to myself. After all, he was pretty hard to forget.
I turned the volume up on the TV so that I didn’t feel alone. I needed noise to drown out intrusive thoughts. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was stupidity, but in the warmth and safety of my home I decided to look up that man I once dated. In my momentary daydream, he walked as if in a cloak of crime and bullets. It wasn’t too exaggerated. This man loved his guns. No wonder he became a gun dealer whether legally, illegally or a bit of both. It was 10 years ago when I was backed into a wall and maybe a little bit self-destructive. I knew he was trouble from the first sight of his smirk. Thin and sly like a weasel, he was intelligent, though used it for trouble. With dark hair and piercing eyes, he stared at me like an eagle about to tear into its prey. He tilted his head slightly as if considering me for some dark end and I questioned my ability to escape. Luckily, I had or so I thought. I reached for my laptop and dared facing this old darkness. Maybe I should have heeded the warning inside my gut a moment ago. I had just gotten myself to feel safe.
And here I am, now searching for this old online match from a dating service. After a few tries, I found him on Facebook. His profile pic was a photo of him and his adult daughter, a lovely woman with brunette hair and a warm smile. He was so proud of her. The apple of his eye. She was the only thing he’d let into his atrophied heart. That left little room for me or anyone else.
After I got to know him, I soon realized he wasn’t the nicest of people. What he did to her mother troubled me. He shared the story about how he and she were separated and he wanted custody, so he would try to set her up. Once he had invited her over to discuss coming to terms for the divorce. He gave her a drink and smoked pot with her at his insistence, pretending to want to work things out in a civil way. When she left, he called the cops and told them that she was driving under the influence of alcohol and drugs. They arrested her. This man had no heart, so I had no doubt he would have done something like that to me if I crossed him. Of course, I broke things off shortly after that.
It seemed odd that he never found a long-term relationship in all this time and still included his daughter in his Facebook cover photo. It seemed he kept her as his property and seemingly hooked close to him, as if a prize he won in the fight with her Mom. That is all that he cared about. It made my stomach nauseous. There was nothing healthy about it. Why did I allow myself to date such a monster?
What else can I say about Vincens? For one thing, he was sly. He was also smooth like a predator and calculating. His nose was a little like a curved beak and his eyes menacing. I’d say he was average height or a little shorter, but his manner was self-possessed. He acted like a man on the make. He exuded a sense of power and was willing to do anything to keep it. I admit that it was hypnotizing.
I haven’t thought about what happened in a long time. I hadn’t wanted to face it. Maybe now I could try. To start, I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. At that moment, a branch tapped against the window from the wind, causing me to jump. I sighed in relief when it wasn’t him. Bear with me now. I’ll try to tell this story. I’ll start slow. This is what occurred:
We met online and exchanged a few messages. We didn’t have a lot in common, but he had a job and seemed like a family man who loved his child. How bad could he be? The first time he came to my house to pick me up I pulled back the curtains to see what I was getting myself into. His online ad had shown him standing on a small white fishing boat and looking lean with a tan. He was fairly attractive in the picture. I hesitantly said to myself, “We will see if this is true.” Many people lie in their ads and misrepresent themselves, so I snuck a peek when the gray Audi parked out front. Slow and calculating, as if ready for anything, a lean man emerged and scanned the front of my home. Chills went up my spine as if he oozed a serial killer vibe, but I was going through a separation with my first husband, so what the hell? I needed a drink, so I grabbed my jacket and went out to meet him.
My house was a one-story two-bedroom brick ranch on a quiet street. I planted flower beds by the front porch and around the single weeping willow to give it some color. Deep down, I wondered if he was assessing me or concluded that I might be plain and simple too, behind whatever effort I take to conceal that fact. I guess I was a little nervous. I felt vulnerable.
“Hi, you must be Vincens,” I said with a warm grin. I greeted him like a dim bulb in a horror movie; too dumb to realize impending danger.
“And you must be Vania,” he remarked with little enthusiasm, though I guess he seemed willing to continue with this date. He already had seen my pic and profile, so I wasn’t sure why I sensed something that disappointed him.
We all have our intentions, I guess. I don’t need anyone to understand. He eyed me like a man just seeing what I had to offer. Wearing gray slacks, black boots and a loose blouse, I swayed my hips and held my head high as if saying, “Let’s do this. I’m in.” Then with a nod, he opened the door for me. I smiled slightly and awkwardly got in, as if aware this could be my doom. Then again, I’m a stubborn woman who will give him a fight if need be, so I put my seatbelt on and agreed to his suggestion of a quiet bar at the beachfront. I needed the burn of alcohol and the ensuing dimness of my pain.
Along the way, we chatted about our jobs and what kind of food we liked. As we reached our destination, which was a cozy wooden building off the boardwalk with a large outdoor patio out back, I tried to just enjoy the moment without expectations. The blanket of night comforted me as well as the gentle breeze, although I felt so insignificant beneath the stars. I longed for connection. Could this be one?
At that moment, a model-thin hostess with a ponytail led us out back to a table away from the crowd and handed us menus. She seemed a little haughty, but politely smiled and said our waitress would be with us shortly. I realized then that Vincens was staring at me, though I certainly wasn’t as attractive as the buxom hostess in tight dress. I tried not to second guess things. So far, this was going okay. A lit red candle sat in the center of the table and we had a table to ourselves by the railing. I took a moment to appreciate it. Yeah, this was nice.
“What would you like?”
I admit I liked his voice. I liked it fairly deep and a little hint of an accent. Of course, that little bit of French enticed me. He wore a black shirt with a gray jacket, so we kind of matched color-wise.
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
I’m sure he was a man who liked to take charge. I figured I’d give him that illusion. I could play the game.
He said,“How about a Zombie? That might be fun.”
“You mean I should choose something to knock me out?” I jested, though realizing he probably wanted me brain dead for real. Maybe that’s how he liked his dates.
“Sure. If that’s your thing,” he teased.
“Or yours.”
His smirk widened toward the left side of his mouth and his eyes darkened in challenge. I’m sure my twisted side egged me on.
I added, “Actually, it sounds perfect. I’ll have one.”
He softly laughed and ordered for us. He chose Long Island Iced Tea. The waitress nodded and left us alone.
“So you used to volunteer at Legal Aid? I found your profile interesting,” he remarked, studying me suspiciously and then added, “Do you really care about the law?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
He laughed again, but this time it was sinister. He seemed amused and then glanced to the left, toward the inside of the bar. I wondered if he checked out other women. His attention kept returning to a certain point. It kind of bothered me. I tried guessing what preoccupied him.
Then he quietly told me, “The F.B.I. are watching.”
“What? Why?”
Confused, I turned to see what he was looking at and noticed a tall blond man standing inside the restaurant, staring out the window in our direction. Was that who he was talking about? Stiff, focused, he wore a dark suit with a crisp white shirt. I had never seen an agent before, so I guess he fit what I might have imagined. I must admit that the steely stare unnerved me a bit.
“Why would they be watching?” I asked with a nervous laugh, trying to assess Vincen’s body language to gauge whether he was lying and teasing me. Otherwise, fear would have overtaken me more than it did. I started to become alarmed. My hand trembled as I lifted my glass for a sip.
He shook his head as if to dismiss it and took a long sip of his drink.
“It’s not important,” he finally said, glancing down, as if it was a joke and then shrugged. “After all, you don’t know what kind of shady character I might be.”
“Or me,” I suggested, which made him laugh harder, especially when I added, “I might be dangerous.”
“Yes,” he teased, “I’m sure you are in their crosshairs…or should be.”
“Exactly. I might be an international counterfeiter,” I joked, with a shrug. “Who knows?”
“In that case, the Secret Service would be watching you.”
“Oh,” I said, “Well, maybe that man watching us just finds me attractive.”
He leaned closer, tilting his head slightly as if considering me carefully. I think I’m not quite what he expected. Maybe he wanted me to be fleeing at the thought of agents or possible danger. My gut tensed.
A little worried, I asked him, “Is there something I should know?”
“I guess it depends on how well this date goes first. Then we’ll see.”
“Might be too late. I’m getting a little tipsy.”
“Then off to a good start, Vania.”
The sound of my name on his serpentine tongue gave me goosebumps. Common sense told me to get up and run, but when I looked back toward the supposed F.B.I. agent, there seemed to be another man with him. He had dark hair and an equally intense stare. I kind of didn’t want to walk by them in case it was true. I felt trapped. Then again, the agents intrigued me. Excitement coursed through me. Something about the other man really got my attention. I wondered what it felt like to touch the man’s black jacket or his clean shaven face. If only a handsome creature like him stared at me with desire I’d be thrilled; not with him being the Law, and I, some criminal.
While Vincens took a moment to check his ringing phone, I decided to see if the men were still focused on us. Gathering my nerves, I peeked back at them and saw that both handsome men had taken a seat, but still staring intently as if absorbed in us. Why? Were they really agents and was I in danger? I took a swig of my Zombie. I suddenly felt as if getting sucked into an eddy of white water, not sure where I’d end up. I returned my attention back to my date, who seemed set upon charming me. He touched my hand and then held it.
As the evening progressed, Vincens shared stories about his boat and his love of fishing, as well as his life as a single father. Questions arose. I didn’t ask him why he was single. I didn’t see why he couldn’t find a partner if he wanted one. I imagined all sorts of red flags. I guess the bigger question was – Why was he interested in me? I was an average-looking blond, nearing thirty, wearing wool slacks and a black blouse unbuttoned the top three buttons, though my B bust would have allowed more. The way his eyes appraised me up and down, I guess he thought I’d do for whatever his intent happened to be. I assumed sex.
“How about we go somewhere else? It is still early.”
“Okay.”
I really didn’t mind, though maybe I was indifferent either way. Actually, maybe I didn’t want to be alone. I needed company. My heart had been so broken recently and I wanted to feel alive.
Vincens watched me fumble to stand. I tried to steady myself in my heeled boots, which I wasn’t accustomed to that high of a heel. He protectively wrapped his arm around me. I was too busy trying to work my way through the crowd that was leaving at the same time that I didn’t see the agents at first. A few loud women finally veered out of the way and let us get by. As we were about to leave the place, I glanced back at the mystery men as I was led away, almost wishing one of them would step in and pull me toward him. Maybe deep down, I knew I was in danger. Of course, why did I think they cared to save me? It didn’t seem on their agenda, because they let us go. They left me to my fate. Maybe I just wanted them to care about that.
Vincens led me to his car and asked, “How about my place?”
The answer should have been an obvious, “No,” but I actually said, “Let’s go.”
I guess it was the loneliness gnawing away at me. I hated online dating. All the other ads bored me or seemed superficial. At least, I was having a pleasant moment and this guy seemed interested in me. He had a job and seemed well groomed, so I guess I just needed to mark serial killer off my list and we were off to a good start.
So that is the creepy story about how I met Vincens Lefebvre. I’m long past this memory and felt stupid to be revisiting this nightmare, but here I am doing just that. Needing a distraction, I got up to grab an iced tea from the fridge. I probably preferred alcohol as my nerves were shot, but I didn’t want to cloud my judgment. That never fared well. As it turns out, he later told me it had really been agents watching him. There were two worlds and one in between: On one side was Vincens, who I found out was a C.I. or confidential informer; on the other side was the F.B.I.; and then me in the center. Thoughts swarmed such as “Get down. Get on the ground.” I imagined bullets flying. I needed to avoid that scenario. I took another deep breath. This could have ended very badly. After all, he played bad guys and probably cops too.
The storm outside continued on. I shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or fear. Ready? Let us return to my story. I might as well finish it. What else can I do now that my nerves are on edge? I can’t relax anyway.
That night, we drove to his home. We were close to the beach, maybe a couple miles away. His house was in a nice oceanfront neighborhood. Kind of pricey. He had showplace furniture and a decor almost like a castle with a heavy iron chandelier with real red candles instead of bulbs. Metal sconces hung on the walls with flickering of light giving off the aura of a dungeon nearby to throw me in. He had weapons on the wall too, a mace and battle ax. I kind of liked it, but the darkness of this abode alerted me to whatever secrets he held within. This was no fairy tale. Then again, many of them were dark and ended badly.
Next, he showed me his playroom. No, not Fifty Shades of Gray, to my relief, but not much better. Guns. Lots of guns were displayed on 3 tables. Danger. Violence. Death.
“Cool,” I muttered, not wanting to show any fear. He seemed amused by that.
I walked along the closest table as if at a flea market and trailed my fingers over an M16. I picked up a magazine and then set it down. My soon to be ex had one from being in the military and once he brought it home after traveling. With his hands in his pockets, Vincens observed me like a hawk.
When he saw that I wasn’t scared, it seemed to please him. A weight seemed lifted from him. I’m sure many women who he brought home after meeting online hightailed it out of there, not wanting to end up on an episode of Unsolved Murders or in a Lifetime woman’s movie about the dangers of online dating. Even so, there I was, unfazed by it all.
“I think this will work out,” he finally said, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me roughly. His tongue was forceful while a hand around my neck positioned it better for his control. Yeah, I slept with him. I guess I felt I was in over my head and I thought if I gave him what he wanted that I wouldn’t be in any danger. I’m sure I was lonely too.
My mind returned to the present time. At that moment, my laptop camera came on, interrupting my reminiscing about Vincens. My jaw dropped when this tiny light caught my attention. How in the heck did that happen? Maybe it was a glitch. I searched for my camera settings, but I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off. Was someone on the other side? Who was watching me? Terrified, I moved away from it, heart beating fast. What if it was him? What if it was someone scarier?
I ran to my kitchen and dug through my junk drawer to find tape. I spotted a roll by some outdated batteries and candles. I grabbed it and then tore off a piece of paper from my to-do list and then cut a piece of tape. Then I covered the camera as quickly as I could, but the light faintly shone through. I backed away, not sure what to do. Did I open a mistake I should have left alone?
I tried speaking to whoever might be there. I said, “Hello. Is someone there?”
Of course, there was no answer. Maybe it was some pervert. Maybe someone knew that I searched for Vincens online. I’m sure that they wanted to know why. That scared me too much to continue with my story, so I returned to the TV. I went about my evening as usual.
In the morning, I went to work, ran an errand and returned home to the same light as if it was a warning. It was shining its sinister spotlight upon me, saying that “We are watching you.” Maybe I crossed some line or someone wanted to make sure that I didn’t. How could I know?
A few days later, I noticed that the camera shut off by itself. I tried to forget about Vincens once again along with this whole weird camera situation. For a time, that worked. I had enough on my plate with paying bills and handling life’s little stresses. Then again, I realized I may not be over this. I needed to revisit whatever was bugging me. I took a deep breath. This might get turbulent. Let me prepare myself.