To Burn In Brutal Rapture

by Nyla K

  “Damien! What a lovely party,” Jerald smiles, seemingly genuine and maybe just stupid enough not to realize what he’s doing. “Everything looks top notch!”

  “Jerald,” my dad seethes, eyes locked on the tall brunette goddess in the slinky, backless yellow dress that makes her look remarkably tan.

  I really hate her.

  “It’s great to see you again, Damien,” Evangeline speaks, fluttering her eyelashes like she’s trying to flirt her way out of his anger and hostility. She doesn’t know my dad.

  “Yea, you know I wish I could say the same.” Dad folds his arms over his chest. “The last time I saw you was at my best friend’s rehearsal dinner. Turns out, it wasn’t much of a rehearsal for anything, since you know… the wedding never happened.”

  Evangeline’s face drops, and she looks down in humility that appears forced.

  “Now, now, Damien. I thought we all agreed to move on from that,” Jerald the idiot speaks up, proving himself to be completely useless. “You and I know, as well as they do, it was for the best. That marriage wasn’t the greatest idea, after all -”

  Dad’s eyes harden, and he takes a step forward. “It was your idea in the first place, you self-righteous pri-”

  “Day, please,” Lazarus appears at our sides and maneuvers in front of my father, placing a hand on his chest. “It’s alright. We don’t need to do this.”

  “Did you invite her?” Dad asks Lazarus, quietly, his tone riddled with emotions that are so rare on him it tickles my ears to hear him like that.

  “Of course not,” Lazarus whispers to him, and I can’t help but stare up at their faces, watching their locked eyes, conveying much more than the words they're speaking. The unease rises inside me like an itch. But before I can think too much about it, my dad breathes and blinks hard, stepping back as Lazarus turns to his ex. “Evangeline. Jerald. Can I get either of you a drink?”

  “I’ll take a brandy,” Jerald says, oblivious to any lingering tension.

  “I’d love a martini,” Evangeline peeks up at Lazarus with a gentle smile twisting her red lips.

  “Extra olives. I remember,” he replies, not quite smiling, but giving her a far too familiar look for my comfort. Actually, this whole encounter is filling me with nausea. “Come.”

  Lazarus takes her arm - he takes her fucking arm! - and walks her toward the bar, with Jerald following cluelessly behind them. A few steps in, he turns over his shoulder and gives me a quick look. I’m not sure what it means, or if it’s even meant for me, since my dad is standing right next to me. But either way, I’m hoping the look is one of comfort.

  He’s just being polite. He doesn’t really want to spend time with her… right?

  I pull in a steady stream of air, attempting to get my head on straight, and it appears my father is doing the same thing by my side. I tilt my face up at him, his eyes darting to mine briefly as he runs a hand through his hair.

  “Go grab something to eat, Trace,” he grumbles, then turns and stalks toward the house.

  I’m left standing by myself, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do now. Because let’s face it, grabbing something to eat is out of the question.

  As if I could really eat while Lazarus is over there being hypnotized by his ex-fiancée.

  I swipe another glass of champagne, drinking it too fast as I weave undetected through the groups of guests, all the while watching Lazarus up at the bar with Evangeline and her father, talking to them about God knows what. He doesn’t look happy to be in her presence necessarily, but he also doesn’t look like he’s telling her to fuck off, and I don’t understand why.

  I mean, wouldn’t you want to tell the woman who left you at the altar to fuck herself?? Even if you didn’t really want to marry her, she still embarrassed you, dammit! Tell her off! Maybe dump a drink on her!

  Who says only ladies can do that? I think it’d be hilarious to see little miss prissy bitch dripping with vodka and olives.

  As I’m slinking closer, attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation, Ted’s sniveling pock-marked face pops up right in my line of vision. I’m startled by how nasty he looks, and I almost fall backward.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he steadies me by holding my elbow. “What’s wrong? Date interested in someone else?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I rip my arm out of his grasp. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

  “Thanks. Look, I don’t know what you have to do with Lazarus Weston, but I know my partner was sad to see he couldn’t make it work with his daughter. So if there’s a chance he can try to get them back together, he’s going to take it.”

  My brow furrows at him. “That makes no sense. Evangeline called off the wedding. They both knew it was a bad idea. Why would they ever get back together?”

  And why am I entertaining this stupid conversation?

  I look back to the bar where Lazarus had been standing, but now he’s gone, and so is Evangeline. They disappeared. My head bobs all around looking for them, but I don’t see them anywhere.

  “Ugh,” I shove Ted out of the way to go find them, and he has the nerve to laugh.

  “Wow, little girl. Desperate, are we?”

  I ignore his stupid voice and even stupider words, stomping around the party in search of Lazarus. I don’t even care if it makes me look crazy, I’m going up to him. I’ll make up some emergency to get him away from Evangeline so I can talk some sense into him. Not that I think he’d really get back together with her. Ted’s just an idiot.

  Still, Laz doesn’t need whatever Evangeline’s trying to pull. She might be trying to get him into bed one more time, and that is something I will die before I let happen.

  After wandering around frantically for what feels like hours, I decide to check the pool house. I seriously hope they’re not in there alone, but it’s the only place I haven’t looked yet.

  My stomach is in knots as I approach the front doors, which are glass, creeping around the side so I can peer in without them seeing me, if they are in there. And sure enough, as soon as I peek through the glass, I spot Lazarus sitting on a chaise lounge.

  Evangeline is standing in front of him, looking down at him while he speaks to her. I can’t hear what they’re saying and I’m desperate to listen. Unfortunately, the only way to do so would be to open the door, and they would definitely hear me.

  I’m half tempted to just barge in, but at the same time, I want to see if I’m going to catch them doing something. The thought alone squeezes my heart to death.

  I’m at war with myself… Half of me needing to burst through that door and tell them the house is on fire. Anything to get them the fuck away from each other.

  Seriously. I can’t do this again.

  I had to watch them together for over a year, parading their fake relationship around like Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson. And that was before I hooked up with Lazarus.

  Before he smiled at me and kissed me like I’m fucking perfect. Before he told me he wants me, despite how wrong it is.

  I refuse to let him do something as stupid as letting her kiss him or whatever she’s trying to do by luring him into a pool house alone.

  But then the other half of me, the sadist, needs to quietly see. To just see if he would really do that to me. For the pain. So I can know if he’d actually crush me like that. It seems like something he would do, despite everything we’ve explored recently. I’d rather not believe it, but I can’t ignore this part of me…

  The quiet loner, used to sitting outside while everyone else does whatever they want. It’s my default.

  So I force myself to stand still and watch.

  They’re just talking for now. Evangeline is gesturing, and Lazarus drops his head into his hands for a moment, appearing exasperated. It gives me a shred of relief. Until he lifts his head again to look up at her while she runs her fingers along his jaw, into his hair.

  My heart aches, and I cough, expecting to taste blood. Lazarus doe
sn’t move. He doesn’t brush her off or give her a look of disgust. He just sits there and lets her comb her slut fingers through his inky black hair, while she speaks words to him that I can’t goddamn hear.

  I realize I’m grinding my teeth so hard my jaw is hurting and I yank at my own hair, pulling it hard. I’m fucking disgusted right now. I need to leave. I need to move.

  I need more drugs.

  I leave the love of my life to hook up with his ex rather than barging in, because as much as I want to run in there and kick both of their asses, I just can’t make myself that obsessive.

  Being hopelessly, pathetically in love with Lazarus is one thing, but I refuse to force him to love me back. That’s where I draw the line, apparently.

  Storming back to the house, I go up to my old room and take the other half of my pill out my purse, crushing it up. I snort it and wobble around for a moment, dizzy and feeling like I might black out, which would be bad.

  I’m sure I could lie to Dad about being tired and fall asleep in my bed, but I don’t want to leave Lazarus alone for too long. I want to be waiting outside that pool house when he emerges, dripping in shame. I mean, Lazarus Weston doesn’t do shame per se, but I want to at least give him a scathing look. I’ve earned that much in the past few months.

  When I can barely keep my eyelids up, I decide to fight the tiredness the only way I can in the moment; with more drugs. So I fish an Adderall out of my bag and crush it up, snorting a few bumps to get myself right.

  It works almost instantly. I have some decent pep, though I’m also seeing black around the edges of my vision, which I think is from the mixture of all the bad things I’ve done tonight. I wish I could feel guilty, but the only thing I’m feeling right now is hostile.

  Now that I’m awake again, I want to go punch Lazarus in the face, and maybe spit on Evangeline. My blood is rushing more and more by the second, and my emotions are going haywire.

  I don’t know what to think or feel. I’m a fucking mess.

  Standing in front of my mirror, I fluff out my hair, wiping under my eyes and applying some fresh lip gloss. At least I’m a pretty mess.

  As I leave my bedroom, I’m on edge. There’s a lot of crazy stuff bouncing around my brain, and I think I’m one short fuse away from exploding.

  Making my way downstairs and back outside, I go for the pool house again. But to my surprise, as soon as I clomp out onto the veranda, I see Lazarus walking up the steps toward me. I quickly observe his face for any signs of kissing, which I would definitely recognize since we’ve done our fair share of making out. But I don’t see anything visible.

  He steps right up to me as I step back. “Hey. Are you alright? I was just coming to find you.”

  “Oh me? I’m fine.” I flip my hair over my shoulder. “What’s up with you? Have fun with Evangelina?”

  He looks slightly amused by my mispronouncing of her name, like I used to when they first started dating, though his brow furrows in question.

  “What are you talking about?” He asks in a hushed tone, moving me off to the side so we’re not openly conversing about personal matters in front of everyone.

  “Well, she invited herself. Obviously she wanted to see you.” Crossing my arms over my chest makes me dizzy.

  Lazarus observes me in silence for a moment before muttering, “You’re right. She did want to see me.”

  My heart lurches painfully, but I force myself not to react. “Well, that’s just lovely. So are you two getting back together then?”

  “Traci,” he sighs, shaking his head in a subtly pitying way that has me holding back tears. There are so many emotions flowing through me right now, it’s difficult to corral them, and keep them from starting a mosh pit in my nervous system. “She just wanted to talk. That’s it. We just talked.”

  My eyes fall to my feet. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if you believe me.” His words whip at me, prompting my eyes to shoot back up to his. “It’s the truth. Don’t call me a liar, Tracien.”

  “I just… I saw…” I stutter, stricken by the flames burning in his gray eyes. He looks offended, and I feel a little bad. But I don’t know what to think.

  “You saw nothing,” he steps in closer until I can feel his vibrations when he speaks. “We were just talking. She apologized for the wedding and everything. I think she wanted to see if I was still upset.”

  “Are you?” I whisper, my eyes wide and unable to break from his.

  He scoffs. “No. I haven’t been upset about it since…” His voice trails off and his eyes drop to my mouth for a moment. “Since you helped me see that it wasn’t what I wanted. She wasn’t.” My brows lift as he blinks. “I knew she wasn’t, but you gave me a little… nudge.”

  The corners of my mouth quirk into a timid grin that makes him do the same. But he smothers his fast and clears his throat.

  Still, I saw it. And it was for me.

  “Okay, well, I’m glad to hear that then,” I slur and stand up straight, swaying on my feet and grabbing his arm as a preventative measure before I fall.

  “Are you drunk?” He steadies me, leaning closer to look into my eyes.

  I tuck my chin before he can get a good look. “No, I’m just tired.”

  “I think you’ve had enough champagne,” he says in a scolding manner, though it’s more caring than anything and it takes away all the pain in my heart from earlier. “I’m going to get you some food and water. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  “No, Laz, I don’t -”

  “No arguments, Trix,” he warns, giving me a tiny smirk before dashing to the door to the house. “Stay right there.”

  He disappears inside the house and I can’t help smiling like a lunatic. Lazarus didn’t hook up with his ex, he’s going to get me water, and all is right with the world.

  I’m so happy I could fall down and pass out for hours.

  Leaning against a wall, I rub my heavy eyes. When I open them, I see that fucker Ted coming at me again, and I swear to God, I’m going to lose it. Why won’t this asshole leave me alone?!

  My head falls back in a groan before I stand up, quickly stumbling away from him. But of course he follows me.

  “You know, I’m really trying to figure out what you’re doing here,” he says, and my fists ball at my sides as I walk around the side of the patio toward one of the cabanas. “You can’t be here with Weston, but I’ve yet to see you speaking with anyone other than him and Damien Wright.”

  I stop and twirl around at mention of my dad’s name, pressing my lips together before I puke all over him.

  He smirks. “Which one are you fucking?”

  I can’t take it anymore.

  I step up to him, only a couple inches shorter in my heels. “You’re disgusting. Maybe if you spent a little less time obsessing over my sex life and a little more time reading the owner’s manual on your dick pump, you could possibly get a girl to sleep with you without paying her. Possibly.”

  I shoot him a wickedly smug grin, to which his eyes burn with rage, thin lips twisting into a very unflattering scowl.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me, you little bitch?” He spits in my face when he speaks and I cringe.

  “Ew! Fuck off, you loser!” I hiss.

  He steps in even closer, grabbing me by the shoulders. “No, no, no, sweetheart. I think you’ll be the one fucking off.” He yanks me closer to him.

  I’m raising my leg to knee him in the balls when he’s suddenly hauled away from me so fast, he becomes a blur of thinning hair and poorly fitted clothes.

  My mouth falls open at the sight of Lazarus dragging Ted’s sorry ass by his throat. Lazarus shoves him backward and Ted coughs, tripping over his feet, though Lazarus doesn’t stop.

  “What the fuck were you doing to her?” He roars in Ted’s face, scary as fuck.

  I scurry over to them, desperate to stop Laz before he does something he’ll regret. Sure, this guy is a giant scumbag, and I wa
s definitely just assaulted by him, but I can’t let the love of my life go to jail for killing some asshole. I just can’t.

  “Whoa! Easy, Weston! Just relax!” Ted squawks like a demented bird. I glance around to notice people looking our way, which is the opposite of good.

  “Relax?!” Lazarus is so close to Ted’s face, he might headbutt him. “You touch her again and you’ll be eating your meals through a tube for the rest of your sorry life, you worthless fuck!”

  Ted’s about to fall down as Lazarus towers over him, holding him up by the shirt to glower in his face. Honestly, it’s very embarrassing for Ted. Laz is fucking schooling him so bad, the guy looks like a frightened little kid.

  More than anything, it energizes me. I feel vindicated. I want to spit in that asshole’s face to see how he likes it.

  Before I can though, my dad darts over and yanks Lazarus off Ted, holding him back with a hand on his chest while Lazarus paces back and forth like a caged animal.

  “What the fuck is going on over here?” Dad barks at his best friend.

  And for a brief moment, Lazarus appears caught off guard. He peeks at me, and I realize that if he tells my dad what Ted was doing, then Dad will react, and Ted will know for sure that Damien Wright is my father.

  He’ll blow the roof off my little stripper act. And my father will kill me.

  “Hey!” I call to my father, improvising with what little skills I have. Dad looks at me as I wobble toward him and take him by the arm. “That guy has been harassing women all night.” I keep my voice down to make sure Ted can’t hear me. Dad squints at me before glancing back at Ted.

  Lazarus is just standing there with wide eyes while Ted rubs his throats and catches his breath.

  “Ted, I think it’s time for you to go,” my father speaks calmly. He glances around until landing on Jerald Cartwell, who’s hobbling over, looking pretty tipsy himself. “Jerald, get your partner out of here. Both of you, go sleep it off.”

  There are collective murmurs from surrounding guests while Jerald follows a disheveled Ted toward the exit of our patio. I hear Ted mumble to Lazarus on his way past; I think something along the lines of, this isn’t over, Weston, though I can’t be sure.