When the Dark Wins

“Yes. Where is it from?” Anthony watched as the woman looked him over with a quick glance before cutting off a slice from the wedge of cheese in front of her.

“Beemster, it’s a Dutch brand. Quite good, aged eighteen months, and it has a sweet finish.” Amanda rattled off her knowledge before handing him the tiny slice on a petite napkin.

“Thank you, just a moment.” Lifting the phone back to his ear, he could hear Marcus muttering curses and insults. “Are you done, Marcus?”

“Where the fuck did you go? Are you at the fucking grocery store?” He was angry, that was an easy emotion to identify, but before he answered he leaned the cell phone against his shoulder so he could break off a bite of the cheese. It was as delightful as the woman had described.

“This is good,” he acknowledged, and the woman beamed.

“Are you ignoring me, Anthony? What the fuck! Did you leave the girl already?” His shouting was loud enough that Amanda’s eyebrows pulled together slightly, her eyes flicking to the cell phone.

“I’m here, and yes, I needed to get groceries so I am at the grocery store. Currently, I’m sampling an aged gouda from Beemster, it—”

“I don’t give a FUCK about cheese, Anthony!” Marcus interrupted him, shouting, and Anthony simply sighed as he savored the last bite.

“That is quite clear. One moment.” Holding the phone away from his ear, he turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. “My brother is emotional, I apologize for the interruption. What other cheeses would you recommend?”

“Oh!” For a moment she was flustered, a delicate blush of color coming to her cheeks, and then she leaned down and opened the sliding back of the case. An instant later she lifted out a Comté that he already knew he enjoyed. “This is a French cheese called Comté from Saint Antoine. If you like Gruyère then I’m sure you’ll enjoy this, it’s one of my absolute favorites. They actually skim it and heat it in copper vats, and when it’s aged it just takes on the best flavor, and I really think you’ll like it if you try it. I mean, if you like cheese.”

The woman was babbling, nervous, he could tell by the slight shaking of her hands as she unwrapped the cellophane from around the wedge. Her knowledge of the cheese was impressive, even more so that she knew the process of making it.

Why on earth was she wasting her skills standing under the abysmal lighting of this grocery store? She should be at an artisan shop directing people who would appreciate it.

“It sounds delightful,” Anthony replied when she stared at him, her blush now a bright pink across her nose and cheeks. It brought out the red in her hair. She handed over a fresh napkin and he took it as he placed the phone back to his ear.

“—asshole. There’s a fucking slave waiting, and this bitch is talking about cheese.”

“Language, Marcus,” he chastised, feeling a frisson of irritation as his brother insulted her. “I’m shopping, she is answering my questions. If you’re done losing your temper we can hang up.”

“Where the fuck is the girl, Anthony?”

A smile curled his mouth as he bit down on the Comté and the quiet nuttiness of brown butter coated his tongue. If Marcus was asking that question, it meant he had not continued to watch the feed. “Why don’t you check the video?”

Pulling the phone away, he nodded at her, crumpling the empty napkin in his fist. “I’ll take some of the Beemster, the Comté, and one other that you recommend.”

“What would you like?” she asked, so eager to serve.

“Surprise me.” His response made her bounce on her toes, a broad smile on her face as she crouched behind the counter to seek out something that could surprise him. As if that were possible… but at least it would be something delicious. The girl had a good palate.

Looking down at his phone, he moved out of the call and brought up the control panel for the video controls in the house. Keeping the phone close to his chest he looked down at her pale form against the concrete. It was shiny from the thin layer of water he’d left her in after her wake up call, her collar chained to the floor with less than two feet of lead. Not enough for her to sit up all the way, which he had done on purpose.

Knowing that by now Marcus was looking at the video, he tapped the remote activation button and watched her scream, body jerking, water splashing. Then he turned off the electric jolt, and moved back to the phone screen so he could rest it against his shoulder. “Do you see?” he asked Marcus.

“She’s going to get sick, and you’re not even there if something went wrong. What if she’d reacted badly to the shock?”

“Are you questioning me, Marcus?” The edge to his tone had made the smile fade from Amanda’s face, and he sighed, offering what he hoped would pass for an authentic, human smile. “What did you choose for the third one?”

“Um…” Her blue eyes flicked to the phone in his hand, and then as if she remembered her customer service training she plastered the smile back on her face. “I, um,

I hope you like it. It’s more subtle, but very good. A Pyrénées Sheep cheese from Abbaye de Belloc. We only just got some this month, so I really hope more people buy some so they keep it in stock.”

“Well, if I enjoy it I’ll make sure to come back and buy more.”

“If you like her so much, why not just fucking take her? She can talk to you about cheese while you electrocute her.”

“No,” he replied, abrupt, and then he took the packages from Amanda, watching her reaction as her fingers touched his. The flush was back, and he wondered if she was aroused or afraid of him.

Human emotions were so needlessly complicated.