Holes

Holes

An Indie Author Anthology

Masterworks by:

Tom Benson, Rebecca Bryn, Lesley Hayes, Nico Laeser, Eric Lahti, Angela Lockwood, Penny Luker, R.A. McCandless, S.E. Meyer, Ian D. Moore, Katerina Sestakova Novotna, B.L. Pride, Paul Ruddock, and Sarah Stuart

Holes: An Indie Author Anthology

All stories are copyrighted by their individual authors

Purpose: Copyright © 2015, B. L. Pride

Holes Full of Dark: Copyright © 2015, R.A. McCandless

Can We Go On The Bus Now?: Copyright © 2015, Angela Lockwood

Faith, Hope, and Charity: Copyright © 2015, Tom Benson

Loophole: Copyright © 2015, Eric Lahti

Weeping Roses: Copyright © 2015, S.E. Meyer

Just Another Hole In The Wall: Copyright © 2015, Rebecca Bryn

Pin, Pot, A**e … and Friends: Copyright © 2015, Ian D. Moore

The Secret of Hagia Sophia: Copyright © 2015, Sarah Stuart

The Critic: Copyright © 2015, Nico Laeser

Lady of the Woods: Copyright © 2015, Penny Luker

The Legacy: Copyright © 2015, Lesley Hayes

Well It Ain’t My Hole …: Copyright © 2015, Paul Ruddock

Three Sacred Orifices: Copyright © 2015, Katerina Sestakova

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover Illustration: Copyright © 2015, Nico Laeser

Cover Design: Copyright © 2015, Eric Lahti

Foreword

The anthology you’re reading represents the work of fourteen talented authors from around the world who all met on Facebook in the Indie Author Support and Discussion Group.

Anthologies generally have some theme associated with them. We bantered around some ideas and finally came up with ‘holes’. It may not sound like the most exciting subject matter in the world, but in the hands of some creative people holes can become more than just empty spaces. In this anthology you’ll find all manner of holes, loopholes, talking holes, memory holes, emotional holes, and other special holes.

Should you wish to know more about an author, at the end of each story you’ll find a short bio and some links to blogs, twitter accounts, web sites, and Amazon Author pages. Please do feel free to check those places out.

A quick note on grammar: since this is an International group of people working together I decided to leave the regionalisms alone rather than just trying to shoehorn everything into American spelling. Thus, you’ll see colours as well as honorable mentions. Certain standards, such dialog quotation marks, were left intact as well. The American convention of double quotes is represented as is the British convention of single quotes.

Enjoy, and thank you very much for reading this, it means a lot to all of us.

-Eric Lahti

Contents

Purpose by B. L. Pride

Holes Full of Dark by R.A. McCandless

Can We Go On The Bus Now? by Angela Lockwood

Faith, Hope, and Charity by Tom Benson

Loophole by Eric Lahti

Weeping Roses by S.E. Meyer

Just Another Hole in the Wall by Rebecca Bryn

Pin, Pot, A**e… and Friends by Ian D Moore

The Secret of Hagia Sophia by Sarah Stuart

The Critic by Nico Laeser

Lady of the Woods by Penny Luker

The Legacy by Lesley Hayes

Well It Ain't My Hole... by Paul Ruddock

Three Sacred Orifices by Katerina Sestakova Novotna

Purpose by B. L. Pride

The weather’s terrible, Gareth said quietly, trying to break the tension and dispel the impenetrable silence between them.

Lynn refused to take notice of the things he was putting on the table, just as she had been ignoring him for almost two weeks. She had been fighting off all his attempts to talk to her, even when it meant she had no one else to talk to. With the corner of her eye she noticed something odd, something that didn’t look like the usual grocery. It was standing out, calling her, teasing her, demanding her to steal a glance and check what he had brought, but she would never, never admit her interest in what Gareth provided for her. Never. Because it was simply disgusting, she reminded herself. He was simply disgusting.

The radio said that the wind would become even stronger, Gareth reported through audible embarrassment, and Lynn wondered what was causing it. Or what was making him talk to her in the first place. What the hell was making him bother?

Thank God I’m somewhere warm and safe, huh? she grinned, letting sarcasm spill across the small room and deepen the silence of their non-existent relationship.

I’m sorry, said Gareth, and Lynn saw his feet turn him from the table to where she was sitting on her bed. On her bed. How grotesque was that? I don’t know what else to say. I apologized a million times. I told you everything. Everything. At least I tried to. I promised to fix it. Make it better again. I did and I will. I just need some time. Desperation colored his voice and drew Lynn’s eyes up to his face. But she stopped herself in time and kept her gaze somewhere in the region of his chest.

A tiny part of her remembered the moment she had seen him for the first time, but the memory was cut short immediately, mercilessly trampled on by the here and now.

I only did it to protect you, Gareth tried the same old line again, making her snort with venomous bitterness she had never known before. I did, he repeated passionately, almost too loudly, and she flinched with fear. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he hurried, his voice careful and remorseful, swearing there was nothing to be afraid of. But it’s the truth, Lynn. Even if you don’t want to admit it, he added.

Most of the time, Lynn still couldn’t believe what had happened. Not even after all this time. Sometimes it seemed as if her inner world and the world she lived in were two separate realities, two different realms of her all-embracing, overwhelming misery. Distinguishing between good and evil was impossible in the given circumstances. Believing and doubting became one single notion. The room she had been inhabiting for twenty-three days and counting was an isolated melting-pot of everything her life had been for thirty-one years.

For the first few days, she was convinced that her life would end at any moment. She was going crazy, her panic attacks and hysterical outbursts causing quite some damage to the room and the modest furniture. But days were passing by one after the other in a strangely comforting rhythm of seclusion, and Lynn soon realized that she hadn’t been brought there to be killed or harmed in any way. If that had been Gareth’s intention, she would have been dead, beaten up, or raped a long time ago. But she hadn’t been. She was doing perfectly well, provided with everything she could possibly wish for. Except for freedom, of course. She was a prisoner, and nothing Gareth could say or do could change that fact. She was a prisoner. Kidnapped. Taken from the side of her husband who defended her so fiercely, fought so wildly, but failed. Or did he?

Accepting one of Gareth’s numerous suggestions and talking about it would probably be the best idea, but Lynn simply couldn’t make herself do it. His fragmented attempts to tell her what he wanted to made her feel so humiliated, so double-crossed, and so defeminized she couldn’t even think about it at first, convinced she would never want to know the truth. Yet, for the last week or so she had kept thinking about it over and over again, fighting off the urge to get to the bottom of it. Terrified of getting to know the real version of the past, the real version of her life as a matter of fact, she kept convincing herself that there was nothing to be discovered, nothing to be revealed.

But every day that had passed since that awful moment when her life had been smashed into pieces was distancing her from her old self and posing unpleasant questions that demanded to be answered.

Every day that passed was filled with words and actions no psycho would ever be capable of. Or would he?

In need of the truth, and at the same time terrified of it, Lynn was spinning in circles of doubts, planning schemes she wouldn’t pull off and tricks she knew wouldn’t work.

How many times have you told me that? she asked his boots, and saw the motionlessness her question had caused. Ridiculously empowered by his embarrassment she answered her own question. I have no idea. How many times have you actually told me any facts? Never.

Because you didn’t give me a chance, he countered calmly, but he didn’t fool her. Lynn heard anxiousness and insecurity shake his voice.

Ha! she mocked him. Like I had choice! Don’t tell me you were afraid I’d walk away or something?

An unsure step brought him a little closer, resonating throughout Lynn’s system in a way she didn’t understand. Her body was a mess of too many mixed signals and her heart filled with way too much apprehension to defy the insecurity and excitement.

I couldn’t get you to listen, Gareth said. I can’t even get you to look at me.

It was true. Lynn knew it and had no intention of justifying it, although his words caused an idiotic stir somewhere inside of her. A stir she would never admit.

It’s been twenty-tree days, Gareth, she whispered, suddenly afraid her voice would fail her. Twenty-three days since you’ve brought me here. Sixty-five days since we met. Two months. Only two months. It feels like a lifetime. I’ll listen. But I want the truth.

Gareth pulled out a chair and sat down, facing the table, so Lynn took the opportunity and looked at him. He was sitting there so devastated, so sad, and so fragile, despite his enormous body that had scared her profoundly that awful day that she … No, she had to stop herself.

I don’t even know where to begin, he said and buried his face in his hands.

It was extremely unpleasant and incredibly painful to ask this, but Lynn knew she had to. It had been haunting her ever since. Our encounter in the park that day … That first day … Was it a coincidence?

No. He shook his head, his face still hidden in his hands.

Lynn’s heart stopped. Although she had felt it somehow, hearing it was something completely different than suspecting it.

Then I think you should begin there, she barely found the strength to say.

*****

I have to find her! You have to find her! I want to know what you’re doing in order to find my wife! Seth Break slammed his healthy hand against the desk.

Mr. Break, please. His attorney put his hand on Break’s shoulder.

But it’s been twenty-three days! Seth Break bellowed desperately. Someone has to know where they are! Someone has to know where she is!

Mr. Break, police inspector Laid spoke up, silencing the raging, grieving husband. We got an interesting piece of information three days ago and we have good reason to redirect our investigation to …

What is it? Do you know where Lynn is? Seth Break was on his feet in an instant. He wanted to know everything, but got nothing except police inspector Laid’s assurance that they would do their best to find his wife. Somehow, his assurance didn’t seem to make Seth Break happy, though. He insisted on getting the information that the police had, while police inspector Laid insisted that police business was no business for anyone else.

Finally, Seth Break gave up and let his attorney convince him the best thing to do was to leave and ‘take care of himself and his health as well’.

Let me know as soon as anything comes up, police inspector, he implored at the door.

As soon as we find her, you will be the first to be informed, of course, police inspector Laid nodded understandingly.

Seth Break thanked him again and started leaving, but then he turned back once more. He had to ask it, he simply had to. Do you … he let his voice shake a little. Do you think Lynn is still alive?

Unbelievably piercing brown eyes gave away nothing, no sign, no signal, no doubt, and no assurance he could try to interpret. All he got was the police inspector’s dry, The information I mentioned earlier suggests she is.

Seth Break stopped dead. He had to do his best to react and when he finally did, his, Thank you, police inspector Laid, was just as confusing as everything else about him.

*****

I met Seth in one of the underground fights, Gareth began.

Underground fights? Lynn repeated the expression she had never heard before, especially not from her husband.

Yes. She saw his head bow a little more. Illegal fights.

Illegal fights? Neither of the words was compatible with her husband. He was a stuck-up stick-by-the-book manager who never did anything but work. Not to mention that she had no idea what illegal fights were. What are they? And who fights whom? What for?

There are two groups of people involved. The gamblers and the fighters. Gareth’s voice sounded calm and resigned. Gamblers fight for money, while fighters also fight for their lives.

It still didn’t make any sense to Lynn. And Seth? What does he have to do with it?

Well, he’s not a fighter, that’s for sure, Gareth smirked.

No way. No freaking way.

If you’re telling me that Seth’s some kind of a gambler or something … she started saying, defending her husband without being sure whether he deserved it.

Lynn, Gareth didn’t let her finish, I’m not telling you he is some kind of a gambler. He is one hell of a gambler. He must have been for years. No one ever comes to the underground fights if they didn’t try just about everything else before.

Impossible.

And you?

I’m … I was a fighter.

Which made much more sense than Seth being a gambler. Or not. Her head was spinning, images she had forgotten or repressed a long time ago creating a maze of life, lies, and truth.

Was? She wanted to say so many things and ask so many questions, but somehow she seemed to be unable to produce more than a word or two at a time.

I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here, Lynn, he said, without answering her half-spoken question, and continued. Anyway, I met Seth about three months ago, after one of the fights. He had been putting his money on me for a while, and he asked to talk to me that night. He told me he had a proposition for me. At first I thought he wanted to sponsor me, but that wasn’t it. He … we went to dinner and he … he showed me your picture. Asked me what I thought of you.

A strange, surreal feeling of nausea and adrenaline started rising in Lynn.

Why? She hoped to sound controlled, but she didn’t. She sounded awful.

And so did he. He told me he wanted to get rid of you. It was supposed to have something to do with his gambling debts, but I wasn’t particularly interested in his stories, to be honest. I was too … messed up. I was disgusted and tempted at the same time.

Gareth stopped and waited. She had no idea what he was waiting for, but she waited too. Waited for her nightmare to scatter back into the dimension of nothingness. She waited for Gareth to say he was joking. For the world to stop turning. For the millions of images devastating her to stop attacking her mind and soul, making her doubt, making her suspect it was true.

I can’t believe that, she fought against it instinctively, while memories kept flashing before her eyes.

That day at the park. He didn’t try to convince her or debate about whether or not it was possible, but went straight to the day they first met. It made her wonder if it was because he’d decided to let the facts reveal the truth to her. Do you remember it?

Lynn couldn’t answer. She remembered every single moment, every single voice, every single word. She just nodded, although she knew he wouldn’t be able to see her.

Her silence stirred his body and he turned around to look at her. She averted her eyes just in time not to let his gaze touch hers. Do you remember? he asked again. I told Seth I wanted to meet you. She could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. I guess I knew I would never be able to do it, but I told him I wanted to. He was against it, but I insisted. Eventually I convinced him that I needed to study you in case anything goes wrong. For a selfish, heartless, disgusting bastard he really is a naïve sucker. I guessed it was because he was used to getting things his way. So we arranged our meeting in the park.

The early morning was just beginning to stir as Lynn entered the park near her home. She looked around and unleashed Dimmy, who couldn’t wait to be free. He raced forward while she followed steadily, avoiding the most popular paths and anyone who might complain she didn’t keep her dog on the leash.

Their favorite morning spot was empty and Dimmy was there long before her, waiting for his routine round of fetching the ball and going crazy. But suddenly, his attention shifted along with his gaze. Before Lynn could react, he sped across the clearing and as she followed him, she saw what had caught his attention. An enthusiastic race of two excited dogs began, making Lynn smile with affection and frown because there was no owner in sight. Finally, a figure appeared on the other side of the clearing, and headed toward her.

It was a man. A ridiculously handsome man whose approach instantly reminded her of her lack of makeup, sloppy braid, and clothes that gave a whole new meaning to the word casual.

"Good morning, he nodded, looking … At first she didn’t know what his expression signified, but then she realized he seemed embarrassed. Whatever his reasons might have been. Is this an Otterhound?" he followed Dimmy with his eyes and smiled the way a dog-lover smiles at the sight of a happy dog.

Lynn liked him immediately. Instinctively. And she wasn’t exactly one of those people who like everyone they meet. She was the careful and reserved type most of the time.

"It is, she smiled, motioning at him and blurting, Are you a cynologist?" She couldn’t believe her own words. What in the world had gotten into her?

"No, he shrugged, his eyes defying his embarrassment, and his face trembling between seriousness and a smile. Just a fan."

"They’re getting along great. Lynn tried to look the other way but her eyes kept flashing back to him. She had never seen him before, she was sure of that. Most of the dog owners knew each other around there, and he was not one of them. Are the two of you new around here?" she asked, and had to congratulate herself on her skills of saying all the wrong things. Maybe she should have just said ‘I’m sure we’ve never met before, because if we did, I’d probably be standing here in heels’.

It took him a couple of moments to answer. As if he needed to decide what to say.

"We are," he finally nodded, and blushed.

What was that about?

"Did you move here?" Lynn’s barely existent chattiness kicked in only to make the situation even more awkward. What was she? The park investigator?

"Temporarily, he shrugged, and added, At least I thought so."

Lynn smiled, not sure whether there really was a hint in his words or whether she was just imagining things, but then she said something more, he asked another question, she commented on another topic, and what had started as one of the most awkward