Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2)

by Brock, V. L.

  “Good evening everyone,” he began. “I just want to make a quick speech and then I’ll let you get to your meals. I was lucky enough to have two loving parents who taught me to chase a dream. Who taught me that to make a dream a reality, you must first believe that it can be, and transform it into one. Well I had a dream: a dream that my buildings would have a place in the skyline. As Antoine De Saint-Exupery once said, ‘A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral’.”

  Awed by his words and how much he had achieved, I smiled up at him.

  He lifted his glass in a toast. “To DeLaney Constructs and the finalization of the coveted Williamson contract, another blip to place on the map.” Everyone followed suit, and as he lowered himself back into his seat with a rendition of ‘hear, hear’ rebounding around the room, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I took a stand. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine after all.

  “Kady, what are you doing?” Dutch courage had me ignoring Liam’s menacing whisper. Encasing his shoulder with my hand, I offered a rewarding, ‘trust me’ grin with a small wrinkle of my nose.

  “I’m sorry, there’s one little extra thing I would like to add to that, Liam,” I said, an expectant silence governed the room anew as my focus remained fixated on the man to my left. “Firstly, I want to say that I am totally awed by your approach and by everything that you’ve achieved in such a short time. You’ve always believed in people, I can attest to that, and giving the opportunity to others and trusting them with your work, to make a dream come true…” I shook my head. “You’re an amazing boss, Liam DeLaney––”

  “Get him to give us a raise then, Kady,” one of the construction workers called out, and a round of applause and catcalls immediately followed.

  After rolling my eyes at the dark-haired man with the smart mouth, I lifted my glass in a toast and glanced over the table at Walker, who was sitting opposite me. “And I would like to formally welcome Walker to DeLaney Constructs.”

  “Thank you, Kady,” the Irishman mouthed across the table and as I lowered myself back into my seat, I set a warm, pleasant hand on Liam’s thigh beneath the table. With a world of wonderment in my eyes, I smiled at him, and as he smiled back, I knew that my words of admiration and applause had saved my ass from my earlier misdemeanor.

  It was just after 11:30 p.m. when all and sundry began to file out of The Hyperion and into their cars to call it a night. Before folding myself into the BMW, I called goodnight to everyone in the parking lot, then allowed the combining sounds of protesting leather of the seat, alongside my dress, to caress my ears as I twisted to recover my seatbelt and drew it across my body.

  Sliding in beside me and pulling out of the lot and onto the street, I watched the man at the side of me, closely. The passing streetlamps transformed the side of his studious profile into a rapid blending of oranges before being torn away by the nightly shadows. “Tonight went well,” I muttered, approvingly. When he failed to respond, I set my hand on his thigh and issued a supportive squeeze. “Are you okay, Liam? You’re being very quiet considering––”

  “Considering what, Kady?” he barked, pulling his attention from the road ahead, to me. “Considering all my employees got a visual of Kady the Tart with you in that ridiculous outfit? Or considering I had to sit through hours of you flirting with my employees and sticking your fucking nose into my business yet again?”

  My jaw dropped. I thought we were on the right track. I thought he had excused my mistake…I…

  “Well?” he shouted, his enraged hands slammed against the steering wheel. “Gone fucking mute have you, Kady? What fucking button have I got to push to get that reaction from you, so I can use it next time?”

  Loosely flailing my head in disbelief, I found myself unconsciously inching closer to the door at my right, placing as much space between myself and the demonic entity behind the wheel. “Liam, I wasn’t flirting,” I gasped, although spoke softly with great care and wariness weighing down my words of defense as my palm pressed against my chest. “I was being polite, just like I am to the people at the store, or Laurie or the people in the Doctor’s Office. I really wasn’t flirting.”

  “She wasn’t flirting?” he scoffed. “She can’t see the error of her fucking way even when it’s being pointed. The. Fuck. Out. To. Her.” He was screaming as he scathingly drew out his final words. He was Goddamn livid. My breathing suddenly hit DEFCON 1. I felt the lamb and mint I hadn’t long consumed crawl up my throat. My hands were shaking while the nails of my right hand found their way to the back of my left and scoured at the flesh as though attempting to strip away the harsh words and tone that I was having thrown at me.

  Slamming on the breaks, I jolted forward; my hands parted and settled in my lap. “Get out.”

  Knitting my eyebrows together I made a silent pledge for him to not to do anything rash…not again. “Liam, please––”

  The headrest took a beating as he tossed his head back and screamed blue bloody murder. “Get the fuck out of the car!”

  “Liam––”

  His hasty, heavy hand released my belt and then the door. Before I could register what happened, I was standing on the sidewalk with my purse under my arm, watching my boyfriend once again, speed off down the block, leaving me to make my own way back home in the light misting rain.

  Three blocks I had walked in silence, swallowing back my sobs of anger, my sobs of regret. I may not have had a coat, but I was thankful to some degree that each droplet was slowly trickling down the material of my outfit, and not being absorbed by it.

  In a dream world, focusing on my own shitty evening, bright headlights shone beside me. “Hey,” I heard someone call and with squinted eyes, I turned my focus to the black and silver pick-up slowly moving alongside me. “Kady?” the acquainted brogue caressed my name, the ‘D’ once again being passed over. “What in Jesus’ name are you doing out here in the rain?” he pulled to a stop, as did I. “Where’s Liam?”

  Through the shower, the empty street was scoured by my squinted gaze, the orange glow from the streetlamps creating mini spotlights on the asphalt, while steel shutters of several stores were covered in heavy graffiti. “We um…” I dithered. I couldn’t be truthful. My own words from that very afternoon rotated around my mind. Maybe if I believed my lies, other would believe them, too. But at that moment, the energy involved in maintaining a convincing lie, was nonexistent.

  Walker told me to get into the car. Shaking my head I told him I’d be fine, that I needed time to think, all the while considering the extent of Liam’s reaction, if he had knowledge that the employee he thought I was flirting with most of the night, was giving me a ride home.

  “Where are you heading?”

  The slight misting of rain was morphing into a steadily, increasing downpour. Right hand fisting into my hair, I called out over the rhythmic torrent, “Bricksdale.”

  “Bricksdale? Sod that, darlin’, that’s a thirty minute walk at the very least.” Leaning across the console, the passenger door swung open. “Get in the car,” he repeated.

  A sliver of control spawned as I weighed up the scenarios of either getting attacked and possibly raped, or having the wrath of Liam on my case for accepting a lift from his employee.

  Regardless of any looming ramifications, I made my decision.

  I got in the car.

  Most of the journey was made in silence. Every now and then I would feel a heated caress from the Irishman’s eyes fall onto my flesh. I chanced a glance when we pulled to a stop and saw his focus flitting from the lights ahead, down to my thighs. It wasn’t until I peeked down myself and noticed that the lights were shinning on the area of marred flesh from yesterday’s incident, that I detected what he was regarding.

  In the bench seat I shifted, and attempted to cover the mark as good as I could with a cross of my legs and knitted fingers hanging down.

  “Can I tell you s
omething?” he asked, breaking that ear-piercing silence.

  I nodded, “Sure.”

  His hair was combed back by a swift motion of his hand, before tumbling to his throat, and slowly pulled and loosened at the silver necktie. Studying him as he licked his lips, his attention settled on me quickly before rapidly turning back to the road, as we pulled off at the turn of the green light. “The first day I met Liam, I walked into his office and he was all King of The World, or Doctor Evil minus the cat, whichever one. Either way he was sitting behind his desk, back facing towards to the door. When he spun around to face me, do you know what my first thought was?”

  I shook my head, my perplexed scowl fixed firmly in place.

  “I thought,” he craned his focus toward me again. I was sure we were going to end up in some accident if he didn’t keep his eyes on the road. “’Fuck me, it’s Elmer Fudd.’”

  “Elmer Fudd?” Again my head swung, totally missing the punch line.

  “Oh, Kady, don’t tell me you don’t know Elmer Fudd. Give him a shot gun…let him hunt a rabbit…”

  The scowl loosened at the same time as I dropped my head. “Oh, my God. Yes, I remember him now. I used to watch it when I was a kid; Walker, that’s not nice.” I tried to sound firm, but at that moment, my mind was holding up two profile shots side by side, and I couldn’t disguise my amusement at the contrast, regardless of how bad it felt. A smile stole across my face as faint giggle vibrated from my throat.

  “And there it is.”

  “There what is?” I asked dubiously, my gaze lifted up at Walker, his attention drawing from the road to me and back again.

  “That amazing smile I knew you could crack.” Feeling my cheeks flush, I hung my head again. “Just promise me one thing, darlin’.”

  “Depends what it is.”

  He chanced a glance at me again. “Don’t tell the boss man. I really need this job.”

  By the time I muttered my compliance, he was holding his hand out to me. I eyed it cynically, as though one touch would be poisonous and near fatal. But I decided to take it anyway.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The house lights were out, but Liam’s car was safely in the driveway when Walker dropped me off. I said thank you and wished him the best of luck on his first day at work, which happened to be the following day.

  The slamming of the pick-up’s door echoed through the night as I dropped onto the sidewalk, and made my way up the steps while rummaging through my purse to find my keys. The warmth of Walker’s stare on my back, even when I was stood at the summit of the front steps, was ongoing. It was only when I pushed open the door and stepped inside out of the rain, that I heard him pull off.

  Carefully, on the sideboard in the hallway along the balustrade, my clutch purse was set down. Braced by a steady hand, I slipped off my peep-toe heels before I began to advance the stairs.

  “Who gave you the lift?” I started as the darkness spoke. Turning my head, I saw the silhouette of Liam’s body, his arms crossed over his chest as he rested his shoulder against the right entranceway.

  “Liam, you scared me,” I rasped, my hand flying up to the center of my chest.

  “Who gave you the lift?” he repeated himself, deadpan.

  Taking a deep gulp of air, I readied myself for his reaction. “Walker did.” When he didn’t respond, I simply told him that I was going to go up to bed. It was well after midnight, and I was beyond shattered.

  “Wait,” my wrist was snared by a surprisingly tender hand, and before I could list what was ensuing, the darkness of the hallway was digressed as I was guided through the lower house and into the brightly lit kitchen. We stood on opposite sides of the island. “I know you’re the one who made it, but,”––he lifted the covering off the platter, displaying three-quarters of the coconut cake I’d made yesterday––“Peace offering?” he suggested, brandishing a pout and puppy dog eyes. Still, all I could think of was that damned cartoon character. Walker was going to pay.

  You didn’t have to be an expert to realize that cake, past midnight, was a terrible idea. Even so, this was a peace offering. An olive branch. An apology. So I nodded. “Okay.”

  He went about the kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling out drawers before setting two plates, two forks and a knife in front of me on the island. He told me to cut us a slice while he fetched some glasses. I did as I was told.

  As we were digging into the midnight treat, Liam muttered around his sponge, “You really did a good job on this, baby. What did you use?”

  What did I use? It appeared I wasn’t the only one who was clueless when it came to cakes. “Umm…” I swallowed before continuing. “Flour, sugar, coconut…”

  Liam set his fork on the plate and strayed from the island, into the fridge.

  “Eggs––”

  “Eggs? I didn’t know we had enough to make something of that size.”

  The fork lingered on my tongue for a moment longer than necessary before it was gradually pulled from my mouth. “They were large ones, so I only needed three. Why do you ask? Planning on returning the gesture?” I teased through a faint grin. His muscular form had shielded an object which laid in the possession of his left hand. As his body rotated away from the refrigerator and pushed shut one of the huge double doors, my grin was slowly morphing from one of amusement, to one of query.

  Liam set out to retrieve another glass from the upper cupboard near the range in an eerie silence. When he assembled all three empty glasses in a line on the island, along with a glass bottle, a glass jar, and the cardboard carton, my heart rate began to pick up a staccato rhythm.

  “Liam,” his name was shakily drawn out. “What are you doing?”

  His large, manicured hand dove into the cardboard carton and he removed a single egg, lifting it up between his fingers. “About this size?” he probed.

  With a parched mouth, all I could do was stand there stock-still and nod my head while my guard was lifted.

  The white casing was parted by his fingers as soon as a tiny crack appeared after being tapped against the rim of one of the waiting glasses. The gooey, transparent contents slithered its way into the tumbler while I whined his name again. Still, my blatant nerve-wracked tone was falling on deaf ears as he repeated cracking two more eggs, releasing the slimy substances into the remaining glasses.

  “Everything in life begins with an experiment, Kady.” The look of pure concentration veiling his features as he opened the large glass jar was terrifying. So chilling in fact, that it caused my body to be overridden by each jagged breath and pressing, suppliant words daren’t pass my lips. “Here in this jar, we have my favorite. What is my favorite, Kady?”

  I forced a swallow. And although I had lowered my head to evade the unhinged glazed coating of his hardened eyes, I could see in my peripheral vision that he was pouring the clear liquid into one of the egg filled glasses. This was too familiar. Immobilized by dread, it felt as though I was choking on my heart. I knew what was going to happen. I just hoped with everything I had, that my theory of what was about to transpire was in fact wrong.

  “Favorite, Kady, now. What is it?” he raised his voiced, snapping his fingers impatiently in the air.

  “Deviled eggs,” I gasped in terror, the corners of my mouth trembled in sheer revulsion.

  To combat my body’s natural reaction of lifting my head as he applauded me with his ‘good girl’ praise was unviable. His jaw was set, his mouth curved more so, as terror carved its way deeper into my profile.

  “Here we have one of your favorites,”––he pointed a cautionary finger at me and cocked his head––“So don’t tell me that I don’t think of you.”

  Think of me? How was that thinking of me? I should be thankful that something I enjoyed was going to end up with the same fate as Liam’s remnants of deviled eggs? My stomach flipped and knotted, my face contorted as I studied him tipping, not a few drops of Tabasco sauce in the glass, but near enough a quarter of
the bottle.

  “Liam, please; you’ve made your point. Please, don’t do this.” Tears of horror, alarm and distress accumulated in my eyes, testing the boundaries of the dam which I’d set in place. Blinking, the dam burst and the evidence of my panic were left to liberate themselves by tumbling over my lids and wetting my lashes.

  “Don’t do this?” Those three words were spoken mercifully, his eyes soft. Through his arms he braced his weight while grasping the edge of the island and dropping his weight through his hip. “Kady, you leave me no choice. Why should I listen to you when you don’t listen to me? You never learn.” And just like that, the demonic mask was shifted back into place, and that bloodcurdling smirk spread like wildfire across his shaven face. “Now, what could we use for experiment three?”

  How could he be enjoying this? The upbeat tone in his voice, the expression of indifference on his face, it was like he was manic. I was his girlfriend, his partner, not some disobedient dog that needed punishing. The way his eyes had thawed along with his voice made me feel a shard of hope that he would relent and see what he was doing more clearly. But my hopes were shattered along with my heart as he continued with his torturous mind games.

  Back facing me, he was rummaging inside one of the cupboards again when he called out ‘yes’ like he just stumbled upon some victorious notion. The entire contents of my queasy stomach rose as my body was inundated with dry heaves. “This will work perfectly…just as well you’re not on a diet, right, Kady?” he stated, digging a dessert spoon into the tub of Crisco. With the pad of his thumb and an upturn of his lip, he glided down the surface of the metal, causing the fat to drop and push its way through the substance in the glass, like a baseball through slime. “I think we better mix this one up a little,” with his words, he used his fork to whisk the egg and fat together before pushing all three occupied glasses in front of me.

  Convulsions to a degree of which my body was unable to suppress, were prompted by the demented smirk he was exhibiting. Studying his torturous, vile creations ahead of me, horror, remorse and dry heaves were spawning each second. “Liam, please…”