Everything Comes With A Price (The Grabber Fanfiction)

Dinner With The Devil

Albert

Red wine is bitter in the way no other alcohol drink could be. But for someone as regal as Martha Albert would pretend to enjoy it. Martha even ate properly; Napkin in her shirt, no elbows on the table, fork, and knife shoveling tiny bites of food to her precious peach-colored lips.

It wasn't the price tag on this restaurant that made him feel out of place. Albert could more than afford it. Hell, he even dressed the part. However, it was the lingering feeling that crawled beneath his very skin that reminded him that he was out of place. And with a woman like Martha, he always would be.

Albert couldn't even focus on the tossed salad in front of him. Because all he could think about, was just how different they were. They weren't just...opposites. No, that would give Albert too much credit.  Albert was so disconnected from society; it was hard to even consider him an acting member.

"And have you been here before?" Martha nodded out at the dining area. From the look on her face, she could feel how much tension was there between them. Funny how conversation in a grocery store came more naturally. This was like pulling teeth.

Albert looked at the other fifty tables dressed in white cloth.  Each with an ice bucket and an eighty-dollar bottle of wine.

He shook his head, 'No.'

"No," he whispered. "Yeah, I guess so. Now, and again." Albert's mind was elsewhere, but even then, he realized how much he had contradicted himself.

Martha swirled her red wine then took a generous sip. She was proper in every sense of the way. So, she was allowed to be a sloppy drinker, and she was; it was her third cup.

"So, yes you have," She arched her brow. "Or no you haven't?"

Albert just looked at her dumbfoundedly. He cleared his throat, coughing into his fore knuckles.

"Sorry," he smiled a little. "I guess I am a bit nervous is all."

Martha laughed and smiled. "Nervous? Is that the line you use on all the women you take here?"

'For a woman in her late thirties, she was being rather forward,' Albert thought. He imagined being that she was nearing the end of her prime she'd be more desperate than that. Then he realized she was desperate. That's why she was here...with him.

"I assure you; I had not been out with a woman in a long while. Past few years I've been taking care of my brother. And I suppose time escaped me."

"You mentioned your brother. It's not easy taking care of an addicted," Martha scoffed.

Albert felt defensive of his brother. Martha didn't know Maxwell. So, she only could speak about him the only way she knew how; clincly.

"It's the devil's work. A thankless job." She added.

Albert nodded. Max wasn't the only one with an addiction. The only thing worse than helping an addict. Is being one.

"Sometimes he gets better. Thinks he can venture back out on his own. Then he comes back months later to get on his feet. It's the unending cycle, but I promised my mother I would look after him a long time ago, and I intended to keep that promise."

"You're a good man Albert. I've always been able to sense good people. And I could tell you were from the moment I met you."

Albert sat there. He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh at the irony. That Martha wasn't as intuitive as she thought she was.

Albert wasn't all bad. After-all there is no zero or a hundred, things are not black, and white; But Albert was not a good man. Martha just pretended he was, because that was easier to swallow. It's easier to pretend you know the truth, than to admit that you don't.

⁂

Susanna

The basement only scared her when she remembered she was locked inside of it. For a while Albert made her feel comfortable, safe even. Only when she let down her guard and began to trust in him, did the basement begin to feel like a home. Home really was where the heart is, and after he burned her for the millionth time her heart was shattered. Shattered was the wrong word. Because a heart can't break into pieces. A heart is soft, and mushy. Albert took a sledgehammer to her heart.  He wailed down on that fleshy organ till it was the consistency of paste, blood, and veins, mashed together till it was unrecognizable.

Now that she lost that familiar feeling the basement began to scare her once again. And along with fear came nightmares. Susanna was a fighter. She thrashed around, even in sleep. Susanna was running, she was unsure what from. There was that urge, the need to get away. But as nightmares go, her legs were as strong as Jello. They were gelatinous lumps that melted into the ground as she tried to escape. Susanna wasn't one to give up a fight. She would drag her limp legs along with her if she needed to. She'd claw her way out of this hellish bird cage that he locked her up in.

Susanna never liked to admit when she was wrong. She never owned her mistakes. 'No regrets,' she always said. But there was one thing she'd never forgive herself for. Which was that she didn't scratch Albert's eyes out the moment she met him.

Her nightmare always ended the same way with him, and that stupid mask. It didn't start with him. It started with a different being. A woman in white. The woman was unfamiliar; yes. But she felt safe. The women in white didn't scare Susanna. The lady in white was just a tortured soul. A ghost. So, the dream didn't start with Albert, but it sure as hell ended with him.

Every time Susanna woke up her fingers were raw, because she was clawing at the concrete floor. Her legs were sore because although she couldn't run in her dream, she was still smashing her knees against the ground. And her back was stiff from sleeping on the hard cold floor. Because when Albert was mad, he went all in. He was an extreme kind of man. No mattress, no food, no water, no mercy. Then when he came down off that high, he was sweet, and kind. She didn't even think he was the same man.

Susanna didn't open her eyes at first. She could hear light breathing. She felt someone's eyes. 'It could have been anyone,' she thought. No, it couldn't... No one else in this whole world knew where she was. And she needed to remind herself of that. She needed to remember how alone she was. How helpless.

He began petting her head. Lightly tickling at her scalp. There was an itch there that only he could scratch. Susanna whimpered. Albert hushed her softly. She opened her eyes, and he was smiling down at her. She turned her head away and whimpered again. She didn't want to cry, but the sight of him pained her so much.

Susanna wished that he'd be mean all the time. Then be nice only sometimes. It would hurt less if he just left her to starve down here. Instead, he broke her heart, scared her half to death. Just to come back hours later to caress her and kiss it all better.

"Hey, hey that's okay," he whispered. He nodded his head. "It's okay Babygirl. Don't worry, I'm here. Daddy's home..."