A Glimpse of the Dark Side: Adult Paranormal Erotic Romance Collection (21 page)

That's why he was a phenomenon with lovers.

And all this intuitive insight made him an
excellently skilled trend analyst in his everyday life - the best
highly skilled trend analyzer/trend watcher intelligence consultant
in the city. Both his sexual and work achievements, for many
onlookers of his public life, were the epitome of great
success.

Ralph knew better. He could feel the mid-gray
chasm of emptiness growing inside him, wherein he was existing in
the vortex of material success, business power, and true emotional
fulfillment; the latter being the thing furthest from him, it
seemed.

His very existence was all mid-gray - no colors
bright or dark, no high heat or bitter cold, no tune-filled
melodies. It was just a lukewarm, cottony gray fuzz muffling
everything he
almost
felt but really didn't.

He was beyond the everyday listless boredom the
French call ennui.

He'd lately been thinking a lot about
Paul
Muad'Dib Atriedes
of
the sci-fi novel series "Dune"
because, like Paul, he was at a point where nothing surprised him
anymore - no challenges, there was nothing he couldn't see coming
from a friggin' mile away, even with his eyes fully closed.

But he still had this slight tingling, like when
a limb goes a little numb, denoting the hope for a new challenge, a
change that might be coming to him if he went out and let it find
him and not merely lie asleep, dozing his life and energies away in
a stupor.

The unknown was yet unseen, out of his reach. He
would not let go of it. It was the only thing that was keeping him
sane.

So it was this restless waiting, searching, and
prowling. Tonight, he's conquered Lyda. He felt he would lie
relaxed like one should in water or in quicksand, floating quietly,
because intensive struggle would be death.

Well, I'll certainly try,
he thought as
he remembered the expression of bliss on Lyda's face when he left
her. It would continue for her for several more days until she
accepted that it was all it was ever going to be, yet would still
felt lucky she was able to experience that moment when others had
not.

Besides, his observation of gray existence in
others told him it was a deadly thing. Many would either
anesthetize or try to overexcite their feelings with drink, drugs,
or sex. Or all the above. Ralph had gone through all, but... he
really didn't like to drink - it was boring. He really didn't like
the crippling grip of drugs - that was maddening
and
boring.
While sex for him should be fun and not an obsession, it should be
something that made you feel energetic, and remarkable, and
deliriously happy for a time...

In short, he loved life too much that he could
not die hopeless.

Presently, the reason he was still breathing was
this almost feeling that his gray, fuzzy existence was on the brink
of a change, on the very razor's edge to finding... something,
different than any he has ever seen or experienced.

Maybe, then, his death, like his life, wouldn't
be gray nor fuzzy but brilliant, vibrant, and sharply clear.

RALPH SCOOTED PAST the long line outside of
Huron's Heavenly Heron Club while nodding and chuckling at Dan, the
door manager/bouncer, who dramatically sighed and rolled his eyes.
Those in the line protested.

"Hey! How does
he
get to just breeze on
in?"

He did not wait for Dan's answer to that. He
headed straight into the interiors. In
this
club, Ralph's
name and reputation were spoken and repeated in hushed tones. He
was a fucking legend here, that's why
he
could stroll past
the line and just breeze in.

It was a far cry when he first came here when
he'd been new to the city, a mere babe straight out of a single
year of community college commuting in a much smaller city. The
home he'd commuted from had been in a village!

So three years ago, after severing himself from
most of his past, he'd gotten a little place to stay. The first
thing he'd done was to celebrate, even without a job, yet.

He'd overheard someone mention the club to
another while he'd been carrying his meager belongings from his
truck into a rental back room. Both people complained that they
both never could get in. It seemed they were wholly convinced they
weren't attractive enough, rich enough, and certainly not cool
enough.

To his green ears, that was a challenge.

That night, Ralph checked out Huron's Heavenly
Heron from the outside, just stood there across the street watching
the people, more like just getting a vibe on the place itself. He
even closed his eyes a long while and tried to find the answer
within him.
Is this a good place for me?

Later, he'd gotten in line with the others who'd
wanted in. A few of them had sniffed at him and laughed before
declaring with superiority that they might get in, but certainly
not someone as uncool and wholesome looking a hayseed as Ralph.

Plus, he was alone. Yeah, that was such a crime.
Or worse. Pathetic. They'd whispered in pretend, loudly, "Who comes
to a place like this alone?"

"A loser!" they'd mock-whispered, so loud others
had heard it, too, and snickered. Their behavior and judgment
seemed to prove a bonding experience for them.

Cruelty does that for some, especially the
insecure.

However, they didn't get in even after they
cajoled, begged, and even tried to bribe the door manager/bouncer,
who looked grossly put upon, as he was blocking everyone's entrance
into Huron's Heavenly Heron. It was his job, night after long
night, to stand like a bulldozer in the path of all who wished to
enter, make them queue on line, then after they'd stood and waited
and hoped - he could shut them down and spurn them.

Ralph's snarky critics finally gave up and
stepped their humiliation to the curb.

It was Ralph's turn. The Losers delayed their
complete exit in order to hover and see him get shot down, too.
Misery loves company, they say.

Ralph spoke first to the guy on the door,
"Excuse me, are you from Defiance County, Ohio?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" asked Dan.

"Don't know exactly. I'm from Tuscarawas County,
myself, other side of the state, I know; but you just kind of
reminded me of a favorite cousin of mine from out that way. You
kind of make me miss him. He's built like a bulldozer, has a heart
like a playful fuzzy kitten. Not that I'm saying you do."

The big guy blinked a few times, like he was
stunned, his eyes a bit sad.

"Tonight, I'm kind of missing home myself."

Ralph nodded with an expression of pure
nonjudgmental commiseration and just looked the guy in the eye,
asking nothing of him, not even to get into the coolest new club,
as others pushed from behind, and the Losers watched like buzzards
waiting for a lamb to fall to its knees. That was when the door
manager finally really looked at young Ralph, with his unpolished
healthy looks.

The older, much larger man's expression said
many things:
You get me? You see me? You've asked nothing from
me? Yet you've given me... warmth, fraternal love.

"Huh. You haven't been here before, have you?"
he asked with mock derision. But Ralph could already see the
beginning signs of the eyes about to smile.

"Shucks. No. New in town. My name's Ralph. Heard
this was THE place and thought I'd give it a try. Naive, huh?"

"Shucks? Yeah, but it's good you came. I'm Dan.
We small town Ohio boys got to stick together."

They both chuckled, affably.

And with that, Ralph crossed the line from
loser
, to
in
. He did glance back long enough to say
thanks to his new friend, and to say something at his evil
fans.

"Nice meeting you, Dan. And, you... be good now,
y'hear?" he said with his most down home
hayseed
drawl for
his Loser non-friends.

Dan from Defiance laughed with him as he held
the door open, and Ralph went into the club to orient himself to
his new world.

THE PLACE WAS chic, with women smoking hot and
eager for the right man, and men eager to be the right man for an
hour - hell, or one night.

There were those who clearly were trying to find
long-term true love, but this wasn't the kind of place where that
happens. Not usually. There were lots of choices to choose though,
but all the drinking, preening, and overambitious goal setting
stated the Heavenly Heron unfit for a place where one could find
marriage material.

The odds said this was hopeless.

Ralph was bobbing his head in agreement to his
thoughts.

After three beers while travelling from varying
locations within the club, he understood the lay of the land: who
was cool, who was in power, and who were just stringing along. He
respectfully chose to approach a group of four men at least five
years older than he. These were the A-1's of this club (which was
the A-1 of clubs). He could tell by how the other men gave them
respect and the hottest of women preened themselves to them.

Ralph, the unpolished newbie, approached these
men just like a puppy before lions. Observers found themselves
laughing.

Soon, however, they were shaking their heads in
wonder.

After the customary chitchat, Ralph had smoothly
slipped from the cub into being a de facto member of THE group.

A FEW BEERS later, he made a bet with them.

As Barry the bartender listened with an
incredulous smirk on his face, Ralph bargained that he would get
the number of
any
woman they pointed out for him. If he did
get her number they'd give him twenty dollars.

Each.

"Whoa!! You're kidding!" scoffed the Alpha of
the Alphas. "You're just a kid and, well, not even smooth. Okay,
maybe country smooth but not... these are sophisticated, big city
women and not corn fed farmers' daughters, man."

"Twenty, if I win. But, only ten if I lose.
Each. Next time we can bet more, but I just got enough for
ten."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

The Alpha squinted at him and the others awaited
his judgment.

"You really want to play the big game with the
big boys, ASAP. Okay. Done."

"Can I get in on that action?" asked Barry.

Of course. Sounded like easy money, from a young
upstart.

Hm, from hayseed to upstart,
Ralph mused.
Yeah, easy money, apparently. It's the reason why Ralph had picked
them
. They could afford to lose money that he needed and it
wouldn't hurt them a bit. In fact, they'd find it educational and
entertaining.

Within less than fifteen minutes, the Alpha was
laughing his head off as he handed his twenties. And the night went
on from that.

Ralph went home with a pocketful of numbers and
loads of cash that night - and the respect of the Alphas. There'd
been more than one bet. Lots of respect from the Alphas.

"Do it, again, Ralph. You can't always..." they
would tell him each night.

But he could. And he did.

People talk. Stories passed around. A legend was
born. And Ralph would soon be Prince Ralph and then King Ralph,
even before the original Alpha retired in marriage and kids.

Ralph's alpha friends paid off in more respects
by connecting him to a profitable, upward mobile job and the right
apartment and so many other things.

When people like you and feel you both have
much in common they'll help you,
he thought.

He'd been twenty-four then, a hayseed newbie who
hadn't finished college because it was too boring and
predictable.

And now, just a few years later, after taking a
break from being the well-dressed King of Bets, with a great job, a
rent controlled, park-facing city apartment suite, and a new lease
car each year.

"Well, fuck. Ralph's back!"

CONTRARY TO HIS initial expectation, Triple H
was packed. Evidently it'd become much more popular in his months
of absence.

It was the same loud scene again as the Lazy
Egret; but this club was
his
. This was the place where
untalented amateurs tried to get him to share his secrets. More
than one book agent and writer had sought him out here, to ask him
to write his secrets into how-to-pick-up-women books.

And one excited soul had asked if they could
slant what Ralph did to pick up men, or... or to help lesbians pick
up other lesbians! Or... or-

Ralph had stopped him there, afraid the guy was
going to hyperventilate.

He'd almost wished he could tell them, but he
had nothing to share. The truth being that he was just a natural
who couldn't explain and really couldn't train anyone else to do
what he did. Either the vibe was there or just wasn't there. Often
he could coax it from a smoldering ember to a flame. But, again, he
didn't know how to explain it, how he connected with people,
without sounding like he was out and out lying, too smug to tell
the truth, or just fucking crazy.

He didn't lie, or tell the truth. He just
avoided the core of the matter.

So, he knew no one would truly understand how
natural and oddly gifted he really was. And, would just assume it
was some sort of cheating, as he nodded greetings to various guys,
on his way to the main bar.

"Hey, Barry. Thanks."

The bartender already had ready an ice-cold
beer, soon as he arrived, and then pointed him to a well-placed
table off to his left.

"You know I got you, man."

"Wow!" Ralph appraised.

"Exactly."

There sat a lovely black-haired girl, with
creamy tan skin. She looked apparently the same age as himself,
Ralph assessed.

She sat alone and didn't seem to have friends
here with her. That seemed odd. She looked the type that would have
close girlfriends, and they'd come to a hunting ground like this
together to cover for one another, have each other's backs, be one
another's wing women.