To Burn In Brutal Rapture

by Nyla K

  And yet when I spot Damien and Traci in our usual table, all my unease abruptly slips away, being replaced by a rampant warmth; a pleased contentment that settles over me like a tarp. I almost smile.

  I said almost.

  Stepping up to the table, I pull out a chair and sit next to Day without a second thought. There’s no way I could sit next to Traci. Plus, this way he won’t see me when I’m looking at her. I’m sure that wouldn’t be good for all my secrets.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I mumble, stopping the hostess before she can get far. “Tell them scotch. Please.”

  Damien gives me a pleasant smile, and I have to acknowledge how happy he looks to be in the presence of his daughter again, for the first time in almost a month. I guess in the grand scheme it hasn’t been too long since Traci left, but they’ve always been close, so I imagine being apart for three weeks was probably an adjustment for both of them. I know Day’s been torn up over it.

  He looks ecstatic right now, and my heart likes it a lot. Glancing up at Traci, she’s already watching me closely, with an amiable smile on her full lips.

  “Happy birthday, Trix.” My eyes flick to hers in between fiddling with the silverware so I don’t have to focus on that effervescent blue that’s been haunting my dreams for months.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs politely and sips her water.

  I feel Damien staring at me so I turn and lift my brows at his face.

  “Aren’t you going to comment on her hair?!” He blurts out and I can’t help but chuckle. “Jesus, T. You look…” His words dissolve and he shakes his head, at a loss.

  Traci says, “Like an adult?” At the same time that I say, “Beautiful.”

  And we both freeze, our eyes locking on one another’s in sheer awkwardness.

  Damien doesn’t notice. “Yes, you look great. And very grown up. Maybe too grown up…”

  He squints at her and she giggles nervously, flipping her shiny black hair over her shoulder while I tap my fingers on the table, glancing all around the dining area for the waiter who needs to deliver my drink right the fuck now.

  “So, what’s new, Trace?” Damien asks, giving her his full attention. “How’s that job going?”

  My face flings up as I glare at Traci, to which she pulls a forced smile in my direction before addressing her father.

  “It’s going great. I’m learning a lot from the instructors at Aton,” her eyes dart to mine and she lifts a brow in a calm the hell down look, which lasts only a split second. “The owners are so cool. It’s exactly the kind of place I’d love to own or manage someday.”

  “That’s awesome, Tiny,” Damien smiles. “I’m proud of you. I mean, I wish you could have just told me that’s what you were doing… I could have helped you -”

  “Dad, please,” Traci sighs. “Let’s not do this. I told you, I’m doing it on my own, and I’m fine. So can we please not go there tonight?”

  Damien shuts up fast, just like he used to when Lia would tell him to give something up. Forever a slave to his girls.

  He nods. “Of course. Sorry. We’re celebrating. You’re finally the big one-eight. Though it sort of feels like you’ve already been an adult for years now.”

  He laughs easily, to which Traci grins, her cheeks flushing while I force a face out of myself that’s as casual as I can manage.

  The conversation flows from there, and I drink two glasses of scotch before our food comes, until I feel marginally less miserable. I haven’t been speaking much, other than adding to things Damien says about work and all the plans we have for the company. Traci tells him about everything that’s been going on since she left home, minus the whole getting naked for money bit.

  It becomes less and less painful as the evening goes, because it starts to feel just like a regular old dinner between the three of us, like the ones we’ve had countless times before everything got jacked up between Traci and me. It’s nice to be in the presence of my two favorite people in the world, and I’m surprised at this thought, because I hadn’t noticed how Traci slid into that spot after her mother died.

  Damien and Ophelia were my favorite two people in the world, before she passed. I mean, I still love her and think about her all the time, but it’s different now that she’s been gone for so long. I guess I didn’t realize how important Traci became to me, even before all the sexual stuff happened. I think it’s because I saw her as nothing more than my friend’s child for so long.

  For so many years, she was just Damien’s daughter. The kid who was always just a kid, regardless of the fact that she wasn’t just that anymore.

  Then something flipped, and she turned into the consistent friendship I needed to fill the Lia-shaped hole in my life, which wasn’t as significant as the one she left in Day’s life, but it was still there. I lost a best friend, basically a sister.

  I suppose that’s why I secretly loved bickering with Traci so much. Because I missed teasing and picking on someone, like I used to do with Ophelia. And Traci started giving it right back to me, the way her mom had.

  It felt right. It fit. And suddenly Traci started filling in all the Ophelia cracks in my life. Day got happier, and things were good again.

  The problem, I suppose, was that the teasing and arguing between me and Traci turned more flirtatious. From her at first, much more than me. But it was there, and I was too blind to see what was happening.

  I was getting what I used to think I wanted… Only in a very different way.

  I’m snapped out of my reverie when Day scoots up from his chair and slinks around me, apparently going to use the restroom and make a phone call. You’d have to be paying very little attention in life not to detect that he’s going to check on Traci’s cake. Any time someone disappears during a birthday dinner, that’s always what they’re doing. FYI.

  Like a switch has flipped, I’m instantly uncomfortable again. I’m alone with Traci and I’m not sure what to say to her, especially after how we’ve spent the last week… Sitting next to each other in the car and saying nothing.

  I know, it sounds extremely scandalous.

  Traci grins at me, and I part my lips, but nothing comes out. Jesus, this is awkward.

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” she says in a casual, chirpy sort of voice. “It means a lot.”

  I give her a puzzled look. “I’ve never missed one of your birthdays, Trix.”

  Her face falls, and she looks down in contemplation. “That’s true…”

  Ok, apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Ugh, what am I doing here? I should just go home.

  I’m considering telling her I have to take off when I remember something in my pocket.

  “Oh, uh, I forgot.” Removing the small gift box, I place it on the table in front of her. “This is for you. You can wait for him to get back to open it, if you want.”

  Traci appears momentarily stunned, but it doesn’t stop her from picking up the box and examining it closely.

  “You shouldn’t have,” she squeaks, tugging off the top of the box. She gasps, mouth agape in surprise, and I’m met with a myriad of insecurities I haven’t experienced in decades. “Lazarus, this is… Wow.”

  She picks up the bracelet made of real gemstone beads and runs her fingers over each one.

  “That’s a diffuser bracelet,” I explain, hoping she already gets what it’s for. “I’m guessing you have access to essential oils at your studio… Anyway, you put them on the bracelet and wear it, depending on what mood you’re in.”

  “I know,” she smiles, lighting up half the restaurant. “I’ve seen the other girls in class wearing them.” She slowly slides each bead between her fingers. “Is this jasper?”

  I nod, a spark of pride fizzling through me. “Yea. And moonstone.”

  “I love both of them,” she whispers, eyes wide and as glassy as the stones in her hand. “Jasper for emotional healing, patience and humility. And moonstone for -”

  “Moon and feminine energy.” A small grin tugs
at my lips as I lean forward on the table. “But you see that sparkly gray one? That’s amphibolite. Internal balance, but apparently it’s also meant to shield from abrasiveness.”

  Her eyes dart up to mine and her smile turns enthralled. She lets a small giggle slip and I can’t help but chuckle back. Because, hello… Abrasive, right here.

  “How do you know about all of this?” She asks with wonder in her voice, and all over her face.

  “I read up on it,” I shrug, giving nothing away.

  Her expression is one of pure astonishment. I’ve never seen someone so happy and in so much awe over something so small. It makes me want to buy her special things all the time.

  “You must have. They’re exactly right,” she sighs, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist. It looks beautiful with her complexion, just like I knew it would. “And the fact that it’s a diffuser. I mean, that’s perfect. You really went all out with this gift.”

  She bites her lip and watches me closely for a moment, methodically twirling the bracelet around and around.

  “I just thought you’d appreciate something like this,” I murmur, then clear my throat. “I like getting you things I think you’ll enjoy.”

  “You mean you actually went out and picked this yourself?” Her eyes sparkle at me, and I’m not sure if I’ve made a mistake.

  I really wasn’t trying to come off crazy or anything, but when thinking about Traci turning eighteen, I knew I needed to get her something meaningful.

  “I always pick out your gifts, Trix,” I confess, unsure of why she thought I didn’t. “Plus, you know how us rich people love to shop.”

  I grin teasingly and she chuckles, biting her lip once more. It brings some significant heat to the surrounding area, drawing my attention to her mouth, which needs to stop.

  “Happy birthday, Tracien.” My voice remains low, and this time she scoots closer, leaning over the table.

  “Thank you, Lazarus.” The gleam in her eyes turns almost lascivious.

  I swallow a lump of tension. The bracelet is just a gift. It’s not supposed to have any hidden meaning.

  Right?

  “Will you… need a ride home tomorrow night?” I ask out of nowhere, startling myself with this odd question at an even weirder time.

  She takes in a small breath. “I’m not working tomorrow. I mean, not at the club. I’m teaching a beginner’s yoga class at the studio.” Her full lips curve into a sultry grin that makes it hard for me to look at anything else. God, that mouth. “I can’t wait to show off my new -”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Damien grumbles as he stomps over, brushing behind me to sit down. I shake myself out of whatever it was I was just doing and ignore the way my stomach is twisting like someone’s screwing something in. “Work emergency. Anyway, what do you think about -” His voice pauses, eyes setting on Traci’s wrist. “What’s that?”

  “My birthday gift from Laz,” she sings, holding it out and wiggling it around in front of her father.

  She launches into a ramble, telling him all about it; what each gemstone represents, how you can pair it with different essential oils based on what you’re trying to achieve, and something about chakra? I don’t know, I’m barely listening.

  I’m thinking about the fact that she’s not working at the club tomorrow, and how I’ve seen her every day for the past week, and I really don’t understand it but the thought of not seeing her again tomorrow is tensing me up.

  Why though? What fucking difference does it make?? I don’t get it.

  For Christ’s sake, she’s just a kid. Even if she is an “adult” now, she’s still more than two decades younger than me, and my best friend’s daughter, who I watched grow up. It’s wrong on so many levels.

  This. Can’t. Happen.

  Maybe I need to try having some casual sex again. I think my mistake last time was that wondering if Traci would need a ride distracted me. But if I go out tonight and find someone to hook up with, there’s no chance I’ll be waiting to run off and save her from walking ten minutes alone. Because she’s not working.

  I’ve just decided I’m going to Vita after dinner when the wait staff walks over holding a cake shaped like a massive Hostess cupcake with lit candles in it, singing Happy Birthday for the whole restaurant to hear.

  We sing, then Traci makes a wish and blows out the candles, all the while looking like she’s about to drop dead from excitement. Hostess cupcakes are her favorite.

  By the end of our nearly four-hour dinner, I’m fidgety and ready to go. Spending an evening smothering sexual tension and guilt gave me an innate sense of aggression that needs to be burned off. I could go to the gym, but I know another way I’d rather take care of this excess energy.

  We all say goodbye together, which is good because Traci and I have no time alone. I thoroughly ignore the longing way she watches me as I jump into my vehicle at the valet stand and practically peel off like a bomb just detonated inside the restaurant.

  I drive straight to Vita and make a beeline for the bar in the VIP section. The music is loud, the lighting almost nonexistent, unless you count those colorful strobe lights that flash to the beat of whatever the DJ is spinning. The bartender who recognizes me right away, gives me a scotch to sip while I watch the girl in the G-string and sequined bra doing a gyrating belly dance on the stage to some remixed Arabian Nights-sounding song.

  My mind wanders before I can contain it, thinking about what it would be like if Traci worked here, instead of that dank, tetanus-infested place outside of town.

  I imagine her up on that stage, barely dressed in some outfit based on whatever themed night it was, twirling around, swaying that scrumptious ass to-and-fro while she trails a finger down her chest. Maybe she’d lick her lips and make eye contact with me before dropping her head back, so immersed in the dance and the music that she can’t help but touch herself a little.

  Maybe seeing me watch her like this turns her on… Knowing my cock is stiffening at the sight of her as she runs a small hand up her slim waist to cup her perky -

  I clear my throat and blink hard. What the fuck am I doing?? Why on fucking Earth am I thinking about her right now? After I came here to be distracted…

  Seriously. This club is full of hot women, many of whom have been looking at me since I walked in. All I have to do is find one to approach and get Damien’s goddamn teenage daughter out of my head.

  My gaze swivels and I see a blonde who’s staring at me and twirling her hair around her finger. She looks young, but definitely not as young as -

  Nope. Stop it.

  We lock eyes and I give her the lip curl; my barely-smirk that says, Hi, beautiful. How’d you like to be wrapped around my cock tonight?

  The girl grins and bites her lip, doing that seductive thing girls do when they look down for a second before looking back up, teasing with a break in eye contact. Since I don’t chase - and no, we’re not talking about the events of the last six days - I give her a little nod that says, Come here. She immediately scuttles over to my side of the bar, sliding up next to me, nice and close.

  “Hi,” she chirps, aiming her gaze up, since I’m much taller.

  “Hey,” I rasp and sip my drink, eyes never once leaving her.

  It’s part of my move. Give them all my attention, so they think they’re the most important thing in the world. It might sound like it goes against the be a dick and girls will flock to you rule, but that’s not always true, in my expert opinion. Women love when men pay attention to them. People. Anyone, really.

  Not too much, obviously. You need to preserve the mystery. Be quiet, give a girl your eyes and interest, and she’ll do whatever you say. Trust me.

  Except if she’s Traci, then she stops inviting you upstairs to her apartment the second you start showing up for her.

  I clench my jaw at where my thoughts are going, scolding my brain for being so fucking foolish lately.

  “What are you drinking?” I ask the blonde girl, pushing away my errant
thoughts.

  She purrs, “I’ll have a vodka rocks… At your place,” then smooshes herself into me, fingers trailing along my abs.

  Wow, okay. That was easier than I expected.

  “I’ll go get the car,” I take her chin between my fingers and she practically melts.

  “Give me five,” she hums, then turns and darts away to the ladies' room.

  Sighing, I shake my head at how great this is working out. It’s been a couple weeks since I had some hot, sweaty, casual, fuck-til-sun-up, and I can see that happening tonight. As long as this girl doesn’t end up having something wrong with her, I foresee the perfect opportunity to get Traci out of my mind.

  I wink at the bartender who knows to put the drink on my tab, and I’m out. While waiting for the girl and my Maserati at the valet stand, my phone buzzes a couple times in my pocket. I tug it out and squint at the screen, because… what the fuck?

  Unknown: Hey…

  Unknown: It’s Traci.

  This is puzzling.

  Traci has only texted me a handful of times since she got her first cell phone, and they were only ever miscellaneous messages like Merry Christmas, Happy Thanksgiving, and What’s the basic function of a prime number?

  Nonsensical shit like that.

  But I know she ditched her old number and cell phone when she moved out, so that Damien couldn’t contact her, or track her location. Her texting me now with her new number is as surprising as it is confusing.

  And because I’ve been on high-alert regarding her safety lately, I immediately panic that something is wrong.

  Me: Hey. Is everything alright?

  Unknown: Yea everything is great. I just wanted to say thank you again for the bracelet.

  I let out a breath of relief and roll my eyes, typing a reply then saving her number in my phone.

  Me: You’re welcome again