It was Friday—the end of our first school week. Angie and I were officially seniors. Farran was unequivocally a college girl, and she insisted we celebrate by going to Marauders Cove. She borrowed her mom’s old Fairmont Futura, and, by 7:30 p.m., we were on our way to New Haven—a fifty-minute drive on I-91 South.
Marauder’s Cove was near the harbor on the north side of the Long Island Sound, where a powerful glow enduringly beckoned from a lighthouse on Southwest Ledge, about a mile offshore. Through the fog and mist, and through many torrential downpours, that monumental structure seemed to beam in all of its glory. For me, it was a symbol of hope.
After parking in the lot, we peeked through the pub’s large window, which provided a view of patrons on corner stools at the end of a long bar. You could see who was at the front end or at any of the small tables parallel to the bar. We went inside, turning one head after another.
Chocolate-colored paneled walls and wood-plank flooring gave the place a cozy cabin ambiance. There were tables parallel to the bar and more in the back, where framed baseball teams and logo prints lined the walls, and a large anchor hung in their midst. The kitchen was at the farthest end, and I could smell yummy burgers on the grill.
To be honest, I wanted to drink myself into oblivion, if there was such a state, and wash away every lingering bit of mortification. My plan, however, was to have one or two, and that would keep me on guard.
The first person we ran into was Billy McGrath. He was alone at the bowling machine, drinking beer. It was hard not to recognize him—all clean-cut and as preppy as in his high school glory days, his light brown hair in a classic taper cut. He had to be about twenty-two. His body looked admirably compact in its five-foot-nine-inch frame.
We went over to say hello. Farran asked a million questions. We learned he had a job installing security alarm systems and a nice one-bedroom apartment in North Branford. She asked about his family.
He said everyone was doing well, and then his pale blue eyes were on me. “I know you.” He bowled an easy strike and leaned back.
I figured he would. “I’m Joey’s sister, Danielle.”
“You were dating my little brother, Mike, a couple of years back.”
“How is he?” I asked longingly. “Last I heard, he was captain of the football team.”
“Yup, and made the local paper.” Billy knocked down eight pins with his next turn. “He’s living down south with his wife and kid. They’re with her folks in Tennessee, trying to cut costs.”
Crushed as I was by this news, I knew I had broken Mike’s heart. I hadn’t even started high school when we were a thing, and I felt suffocated, so I ended it.
Farran spoke up. “You won’t blow our covers, Billy, will you?” She told him she had proof for twenty-one.
He glanced in the direction of the bar. “My Uncle Tully owns this place. He’s not here now, but when he’s here, man … he won’t serve any of you.”
“What about the guy who’s on duty?” she asked.
My gaze followed hers to the middle-aged man with dark, slicked-back hair who stood behind the bar.
“That’s Steve,” Billy said. “To be honest, I don’t know if he would or not.”
Farran motioned for Angie and me to accompany her. Steve checked our ID’s and served us without hesitation. On a whim, I paid for the drinks.
Another McGrath headed in our direction—Shannon. She did a double take when I called her name. “Oh, my goodness … Danielle!”
I remembered Shannon McGrath as a fresh-faced, freckled, and ginger-haired girl with a joyous, melodious laugh. She was twenty now, and she evidently labored to tease her shoulder-skimming, layered cut for the big hair effect. The sculpted brows were new, like the makeup she wore to dramatize her grayish blue eyes. Despite these efforts, she had porcelain skin and cherubic cheeks that betrayed her youth. She towered over me in her high heels, appearing confident and comfortable in tight clothes that accentuated her curvy form. When she reached out for a hug, I hugged back.
Stepping away, she marveled. “God, look at you, you’re gorgeous! You have this exotic look with the high cheekbones, and look at this amazing figure! Jesus, what do you eat?”
Angie replied on my behalf. “She has an apple and a can of Diet Pepsi for lunch every day.”
“Are you serious?” Shannon’s smile was infectious.
“I bring a tuna fish sandwich on Fridays,” I divulged, “and I more than make up for it at dinner.”
“Oh, well, thank goodness! I’m glad.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Well, you’re fine. You should eat.”
“You remember Angie, right?” I wasn’t sure.
“Yes, I do!” She hugged her as well, then Farran, and zeroed in again on me. “It’s so nice to see you all! Tell me everything! The last time I saw you was years ago, back in the old neighborhood. You told me you wrote fairy tales.”
“Yeah, when I was eight.” I blushed, I’m sure.
Angie glanced at me, smiling.“I remember that! And now she wrote a book.”
Shannon appeared lost in amazement. “A book!”
Farran redirected the conversation. “Shannon, how do you like living in New Haven, compared to East Hartford?”
“I live in East Haven,” she said.“I have for the last couple of years, but I waitress nights at a club around here.”
She waved for us to follow her and then urged us to join Billy in his bowling game. Along with the McGrath siblings, I was on a lucky streak and bowling strikes, so I was happy, animated, and jumping up and down. Then Billy started going on about some gang called the “Lynx” and Shannon’s romantic involvement with one of them.
Farran asked who the Lynx were, and his small, never-fluctuating eyes fell upon me. “Ask her brother.”
“My brother?” I was confused.
“Your brother will be one soon, if he’s not already. He’s in tight with the Castel brothers.”
I savored every swallow of my drink. It loosened me up, and it felt good. It made all the humiliation, all the pain, go away. “What kind of gang?”
“He’s talking about their biker gang,” Shannon replied.
“Aptly named, since Lynx are wildcats,” Billy added. He looked at Angie. “Your turn.”
Angie cracked up. “My turn! I’m in last place. I don’t know why I bother going at all.”
We all laughed.
“So who are members of the Lynx?” Farran asked. “Tell me.”
“Hang around. You’ll see.” Billy took a hearty swig of his beer. “Man, they’re not fucking gods to me. Excuse the language. You always gotta watch what you say about them and who you say it to. If any of the Lynx is in trouble, they’re all there. They stick together. What, I should be grateful I get a nod from them while most of the patrons, regular customers for years, are ignored?” He took another swig and looked toward the door. “Speak of the devils … here comes the leader of the pack.”
We followed his gaze to a tall figure bustling confidently through the crowd. The guy looked more like a glam metal rock star than a biker and was clad in a sleeveless, black-studded vest, tight jeans, and boots, his magnificent head of dark hair falling two inches below his shoulders. I thought I’d have to pick up Farran’s jaw—and Angie’s.
Farran was salivating. “Damn! Is he drop-dead gorgeous or what?”
“Enough to make you forget Dave Navarro and every single one of The Lost Boys,” Angie concurred.“I mean, those cheekbones, too—like they were sculpted to perfection!”
He was svelte more than herculean, with a well-toned physique that included muscular biceps adorned with tattoos. I figured him to be six-foot-one, and in his early twenties.
“Wait,” Farran said, glancing at Shannon. “Is that the guy you’re seeing?”
“Who, Valentin?” Shannon giggled. “Uh, wait a minute. Come with me.”
Farran, Angie, and I followed as she led us to Valentin and hugged him.
He hugged her tight in return.
“This is Valentin,” she said.“I go out with his brother, Nico, but he and I are close friends.” During the subsequent introductions, she provided my full name.
“Ah, Joey’s sister,” he acknowledged.
I could see the tattoo on his left arm was a dragon. On his upper right arm, he had what appeared to be a king cobra amid a myriad of roses and flames.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.
“The pleasure is mine,” he returned.
His dark eyes drew me in with their formidable intensity. I felt a chill in their power to seduce without effort. It was as if his soul was burning, and I could see its fire through the darkness. It forced me to look away.
Ironically, turning to Shannon, he remarked, “She has the most beautiful eyes.” I thought he spoke with an accent—a hint of Spanish, but I detected other undecipherable influences.
He exchanged cordialities with Angie and Farran, minus the compliment, and turned to Shannon again. “What’s your darling cousin up to?”
“She’s missing you,” Shannon replied. “Give her a call or stop by to see her.”
He said he would, and then made his way over to the jukebox. I didn’t know where Shannon went then, but Farran made a beeline for the jukebox. It was close enough that I could hear their exchange.
Using the sweet, Southern-accented voice she could turn on and off at will, she asked him to play Gregory Abbott’s “Shake You Down.” Well, she was from Biloxi, Mississippi before her family moved to Florida—Fort Walton Beach.
I knew Valentin had obliged when the song came on.
“Are you in a band?”she asked him.
He seemed preoccupied, looking at the song titles. “No, I’m not.”
“You look like you are.”
He glanced at her and laughed, then walked off.
Passing Angie and me, he flashed a polite smile—white, warm, and gracious, with a small chip on the front left incisor. I couldn’t help noticing a studded and spiked leather wrap and silver jewelry—a pendant and a bracelet.
Farran returned and resumed gushing over him. “Oh, man, look at his ass in those jeans. Perfect shape, and so tight.”
“Will you stop?” I had to say it.
“He smells great, too,” she went on. “I think he wears Antaeus. Do you think he likes me? I mean, do you think he found me attractive?”
“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” I replied, “but for all you know, he could be married. He could even be gay.”
“Bite your tongue! That man is not gay, and he’s too young to be married.”
“No, he’s a few years older than Mike, and before I knew Mike was married, the only married people I knew were related to me or my teachers.”
“He’s got a hell of a package down there, too.”
“I can’t believe you!” I had to contain myself so I wouldn’t shout. “What … did you bring a measuring tape?”
Angie laughed her ass off, but I was mortified, wondering if any of the guys in the bar noticed Farran looking at Valentin’s various parts. I barely had the nerve to look below their chins or at their hands for a ring. It would never have occurred to me to look below their belts.
“You’re insane!” I said.
As for Valentin, he was alone all of three minutes before a trio of women crowded him. They obviously knew him but seemed brazenly flirtatious in clamoring for his attention. I caught a glimpse of Billy watching and shaking his head. One of the women ran her fingers through Valentin’s hair. Her gesture exhibited a peculiar reverence. She gazed into his eyes with such longing that he looked sympathetic, as if wanting to comfort her. After a few moments, he looked away. Perhaps he remembered something, or something else caught his attention. He left soon after that. In fact, Joey had arrived as he was leaving, and they interacted briefly in the doorway.
I wrote the script in my mind. Valentin could have taken advantage of the woman who seemed to adore him. I imagined she ached for him so pathetically that she would have allowed him to destroy her in every conceivable way. He was used to the attention and adulation but not quite sure how to handle it. I was certain of that, and I could relate.
Billy approached us. “Be careful of Lord Hades,” he warned. “He can be very charming.”
Farran raised a brow. “Lord Hades?”
“Yes, that’s my name for Valentin. He’s the king of the underworld, as in hell. Don’t let him fool you. He’s another hothead like the rest of his band of brothers.”
“Oh, bullshit!” The remark came from Joey, who had unexpectedly joined our circle.
Billy didn’t back down. “No? Take a look at the jewelry he wears.”
“You mean the Celtic bracelets?”That was Shannon, who now greeted my brother with a hug and a kiss.
“All the tribal gothic shit. I’m waiting for the skulls and bat heads.”
“I didn’t see skulls or bat heads,” Angie said innocently. “I did see a cross—”
“Yeah, probably the Viking Wolf Cross. Don’t think it’s any kind of representation of Christ, because, according to him, he’s a pagan.”
“What do you do, McGrath, study him?” Joey was smiling.
“I absolutely do not study him,” Billy replied, “but I have learned a lot about him—being that he knocked up my cousin, Katharine, and will leave her heart in pieces. Katharine, by the way, is married to Valentin. He’s got two kids now. And here’s the best part. He wants out. He wants out of the marriage, yet he lets her pal around with him out of the goodness of his heart, I suppose, or so she’ll never get over him. You’ll notice she wears the ring. He doesn’t.”
“You know, there’s a thing called minding your own business,” Joey said.
“Wait, why would Valentin have to represent Christ if he’s not a Christian?” Angie asked.
Billy shook his head. “Well, I don’t care what he claims to be. In my opinion, if he’s not on God’s team, there’s only one other team.”
Joey laughed loudly. “So you’re saying Valentin’s on Satan’s team?”
“Laugh all you want,” Billy maintained, “but what he wears—occultism is being represented.”
Shannon tried to make peace. “Why do you all have to fight? Billy, there are a lot of people in this world who are not Christian. It doesn’t mean they’re not good people.”
Billy shook his head. “He has you and God knows how many others jumping to defend his agenda, whatever that may be.”
“And what is yours, McGrath?” Joey asked. “Character assassination?”
“All I see of Valentin is a kind person,” Farran said.
“You see what he wants you to see.” Billy walked off.
Joey eyed us now, one by one. “Now for the million-dollar question. What the hell are you three doing here?”
“Visiting you,” I teased.
“I don’t think I like you being here.” His eyes were on me then shot to Angie. “Or you …”
“They’ll be fine,” Farran assured him.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“I do trust you.” He looked at Farran and flashed an enormous grin that encompassed everything from guileless youth to mischievous lad. “Hey, Farran, don’t be corrupting my innocent cousin or my sister.”
“If you are worried about anyone corrupting them, worry about your Lynx buddies,” Billy quipped, passing by again.
“Me?” Farran looked surprised.
“You got ideas,” Joey said.“Just remember—whatever you three do, I’ll be watching. As for you, McGrath, shut the fuck up.”
“Don’t press your luck, DeCorso,” Billy snapped. “I can get you all barred, and you know it. Stop fucking with me.”
We didn’t stay long after that, but during the long ride home, Farran wouldn’t shut up about Valentin. “So Katharine Jaeger is his wife? I can’t believe it.”
We’d met Katharine back in the early eighties. She was a blonde beauty who seemed to fascinate every male in sight.
“Yeah,” Angie said, “and just when you want to ask, does he have a brother? The brother is with Shannon. That pretty much sucks, but she’s happy and deserves to be. I’m happy about that.”
“And Shannon’s not even a pretty girl,” Farran replied. “I mean, her face isn’t that pretty. Her front teeth stick out a little. Oh, I can see how she’s attractive. I mean she has those big tatas, and that’s partly because she’s a tad overweight. Then, she just has this personality that’s larger than life—”
“She is pretty.” I said, “She looks great. But you should be careful throwing yourself at Valentin. He’s still married, and besides that, he could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous!” Farran laughed.
“Well, you don’t know him.”
“Darling, nobody knows anybody until they do,” she said. “Life is about taking chances. You win some, you lose some, but if you don’t play, you get zip, nada, and may as well be dead.”
I kind of felt like I was.
Deadly Veils Book One: Shattering Truths was originally published as Deadly Veils: Book One: Provenance of Bondage copyright © October 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon. The revised edition, Deadly Veils: Book One: Shattering Truths was published in December 2016. Cover design by KH Koehler Design.