After a sad, apologetic smile, my best friend walks away without a glance back. I bow my head and will the pain in my gut away. She may as well have physically punched me. We’ve been as close as sisters for almost twenty years and it’s as if she’s given up on me. I can’t even blame her. I’ve poisoned her with my misery and anger. I’d walk away from me too. God, that’s exactly what I want to do. If I could get away from me, from this hell that is my life for even a moment, I’d sell my soul to do it. I truly would. I keep making these giant messes, and I just don’t have the strength to pick up a mop.
I suddenly can’t stand my usual sanctuary. Even the bookstore’s been ruined. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where else to go. I just have to leave before I start crying again. It’s hard to even breathe, but I can run. So that’s what I do. I run through the mall to my car, but when it comes time to make a turn out of the parking structure onto the street I don’t know which way to turn. Instinct makes me want to move right to Nana’s house. She’ll be there now. Making dinner. Watching the news or chatting with my sister-in-law Renata about Marcus, my baby nephew. He’s six months old and just learning to crawl. I’ve only seen him twice when Brian brought him over. My brother doesn’t like me near the boy and after my return, his two times a month visits to San Diego came to an abrupt stop. Instead he or Renata come pick Nana up and bring her to their Beverly Hills home for the weekend. I didn’t get an invite. Ever. Not that I’ve wanted one since I returned. Holding Marcus that last time three months ago resulted in me bursting into tears and scaring the boy. There’s no way I could hold him now without thinking about what I lost. Because it’s not just Will I grieve for. It’s the life we almost had too. The house with a little garden we talked about. The children we both desperately wanted with his green eyes and my sense of humor. The seemingly endless nights of falling asleep all nestled together in bed. It was at my fingertips. I literally touched it. Now gone. Lost. Because of me.
I stare right. I should go home. Face the music. Apologize and promise to do everything Nana says until I’m forgiven. It’s the right thing to do. But instead, when the person behind me honks for me to move without thinking, I spin the wheel left toward Connor’s. Guess I’m not ready yet. One more day. Tomorrow. Tonight I’ll test out my personal chef, chat with my assistant, and try out a new page in the Kama Sutra with my boyfriend. I’ve done right all my life. I deserve a little easy.
I don’t have the will for anything else.
Chapter Eight
The High Cost of Low Living
“Are we having fun yet?” Connor asks as I walk over to him.
After all the dancing and hike up the stairs to the VIP area, I need to catch my breath and sip my rum and coke. My fourth tonight. Hangover hell in my future but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Those problems are stacking up though. Connor pulls me onto his lap. It is the only place to sit what with our massive entourage either talking, making out, or in one case with Jack and Krista, drinking her blood in the booth. A little impromptu get together with the inner circle courtesy of Krista. When I returned to Connor’s, she was still there helping the chef unload Connor’s new pots and pans. The vamp didn’t own a single one. Dinner was delicious and Krista didn’t say a word a word about me sneaking out, but I could see it in her eyes. She was hurt and a little scared, so I promised I’d stop by the club and meet the gang. Connor thought the party was a splendid idea. I got to wear my new off the shoulder black and pink Michael Koors dress that clings in all the right places. It was on the floor in seconds after Connor first saw me in it, but afterwords it’s proved perfect for dancing.
Connor’s been in and out of the VIP area, work permitting. I kiss him quickly and smile. “I am, thank you. How’s everything?”
“The deal is going through tomorrow,” Connor says. “Neil and Avril have it well in hand for now.”
He slides his hand underneath my skirt between my thighs. Compared to what Raquel and Edgar are doing right beside us, this act is positively prudish, but I still move his hand a few inches down. Guess I haven’t gone totally native yet. I finish off the rest of my drink before leaning against him and resting my head on his shoulder. “Do you have time to finish our conversation then?” I ask.
“Which one? The ridiculous one about you checking into a hotel for no rational reason? The one how it was not only rude but worrisome when you left without a word and would not turn on your phone?”
“No. You’ve talked those to death. I mean the one about me pulling my weight.”
He kisses my exposed shoulder. “I enjoy your weight presently where it is.”
I sit up to stare at him straight in those violet eyes. “Please, okay? I’m serious. Today with the cook, and the car, and Krista…it’s too much. There has to be something I can do to help your company.”
“Fairest, there is no need,” he says.
“I want to. You can’t lock me up and keep me like a doll. I need something to do or I’ll go nuts.”
“Well, what did you do between cases? You cannot have been fighting monsters all the time.”
“I trained. Researched. Helped Nancy with her schoolwork. Played pool and video games. Hung out and shared stories with the others. Cleaned. Shopped.”
“Then do that now,” Connor suggests. “Is there anything you have wanted to learn? I can hire tutors—”
“Is there a reason you want me under lock and key? Is Antonia—”
“Beatrice, I merely want to take care of you as I promised I would. You have been through so much,” he says, gently caressing the vampire bite scar on my neck, “so much, even in recent days. You need a safe space to focus on yourself and your recovery. Working a menial, soul crushing job will not achieve that end.” He smiles seductively. “And yes, I do not wish your attention diverted away from me. If you worked during the day, you might be too tired to…play with me at night.” He leans up and kisses me. “Merely give it a few more days to acclimate. And you can be honest with Krista if she proves too obtrusive for your liking. You are in charge. She works for you.”
“She works for you,” I point out.
He frowns. “I have no desire to spend another precious moment arguing about this. I am attempting to be kind to you, and you are throwing my kindness back in my face as if I have insulted or aggrieved you in some way. It feels as if I have presented you with a diamond and you chucked it into the rubbish for not being a ruby. You are, quite frankly, hurting my feelings, Beatrice.”
“I don’t mean to,” I say. “It’s not that I’m not grateful for everything. I just—”
“Well, it does not seem that way at present,” he says, dropping his arm from around my waist.
God. Great. Now I’ve hurt someone else I care about. Who knew he could be so sensitive? He wore that same scowl/pout when I broached the subject of getting a hotel. I kissed and…well, put my mouth to other uses to wipe it away then. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I say before kissing him. A probing, passionate, yummy kiss. I don’t stop him from moving his hand under my skirt again. His fingers brush aside my panties, and I put up no resistance as his fingers enter me. I lean into him. I’ve seen far worse from vamps in social settings. Just go with it, Bea. No one’s—
“I should arrest you both for indecent exposure.”
Oh, God.
My eyes whip open, and I have to blink several times to make sure what I’m seeing is real. Please don’t let it be. I pray this is just a nightmare. Please be a nightmare. But of course it isn’t. Not even my nightmares are this horrific.
Oliver stands on the other side of the VIP rope, scowl affixed. It matches Connor’s. At least his hand vacates my body to save me further embarrassment. Not that there’s much more embarrassment to be had. I suppose Nana could be here too. I’d die on the spot then.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Connor asks, voice bordering on a growl.
“Ways and means,” Oliver replies with a tiny smirk. Better than a scowl.
“Connor, that’s—” I say.
“This does not concern you, Beatrice. He has violated vampiric law by ignoring a direct edict.”
“And I am a Federal Agent and therefore not leashed by your murderous whims,” Oliver counters.
“Are you here in an official capacity, Agent Montrose? Because if you are not, and if you are in league with Antonia as Beatrice informed me you are, then I am well within my rights to have you executed. Now I can add trespassing, espionage—”
“Okay, enough. Enough!” I say. “I have had enough male posturing bullshit to last twelve lifetimes. No one is killing anyone.”
“Thank you, Trixie. I—”
“You shut up too,” I snap. “You’re not innocent in this, and we both know it.” Great, now I have a headache and am seventy-five percent sober. I take a deep breath and quell my anger. “Just say what you came to say and leave.”
“May we speak in private?” Oliver asks.
“After that display last night in my office, if you think I will let you be alone with—”
“Let her? I am sorry, does she need your permission to go to the toilet as well now?”
“Alright, now I have had more than enough of this disrespect and grandstanding,” Connor says. “Jack, Edgar, please escort Agent Montrose to his vehicle,” the two big men stand up, “and if he resists, meet force with force.”
“No!” I say, leaping up on instinct. I step in front of the velvet rope and hold up my hands to stop the two glaring minions. “That won’t be necessary. Oliver’s leaving.”
“Not until you speak with me,” Oliver says, stonily.
“She does not want you here,” Connor hisses.
“Right now want is not a luxury she can afford,” Oliver says.
Jack and Edgar take a step forward. “No!” I state again, taking a step backwards toward Oliver. I glance at the glaring Connor. I’ve never seen him so livid. His jaw’s tight, the veins in his neck bulge, and his nostrils flare. He’s normally so calm, even when those men attacked him. This is bad. “I’ll walk Oliver back to his car.”
“Absolutely not!” Connor says. “I will not let you—”
“Yeah, the words ‘let’ and ‘me’ should never leave your mouth together again, Danny Boy,” I warn. “I am walking my friend through public spaces to his car where he will drive away never to return.” I spin around to face Oliver. “Because if he does, I won’t stop what comes next.” Back to Connor. “I’ll be five minutes.”
“This is—” Connor says.
“The end of this discussion. I will be back in five minutes,” I say, voice hard before I unclip the rope, step beside Oliver, and we start down the stairs.
“You know, I do believe I just witnessed history. Someone finally stood up to his Lordship,” Oliver says. “He—”
“Shut. Up. Or I will stake you myself.” I hurry through the club without glancing back at Oliver until we’re outside. “Where’s your car?”
The bouncer, who probably won’t have a job this time tomorrow, steps toward us. “What the hell is he—”
“I’m handling it,” I snap.
“Ma’am, I am under strict orders from his Lordship to kick the shit out of this man if he—”
The bouncer grabs Oliver’s arm and I step up to the huge man, jaw clenched and glare affixed. I almost want him to hit Oliver, and not just because I’m dying to beat someone to a pulp just to vent my fury. “Get your damn hand off him or I will pull your brain through your nose without lifting a finger. I said I’m handling it.”
The bouncer matches my intense glare, no doubt debating his next course of action. Reason prevails. He releases Oliver’s arm and takes a step back. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” I say, voice still steel. My glare whips back to Oliver. “You. Move.”
“Yes. Ma’am,” Oliver says with a slight smirk. I want to slap it off but somehow reign myself in. We start down the sidewalk, I hope to this car. “Just like old times, no? You saving me from thrashings.”
“Not that you’ve never deserved them. Present situation included. What the hell were you thinking coming here tonight and picking another fight? I’m pretty sure he does have the right to kill you now.”
“He will not dare for a multitude of reasons, the most salient being he would lose your affection.”
“Yeah, don’t bet on it.”
“I already have. And won.”
“I meant about him losing my affection. Especially after what you’ve pulled the last two nights.” I stop walking and turn to really confront him. Face-to-face. “Showing up uninvited after months of no contact? Insulting me? Strong arming your way into Connor’s office and acting like a psycho?”
“Is that what he told you?” Oliver asks before scoffing. “Did he fail to mention his part in the altercation? How he goaded me? Said the most vile, heinous, explicit things about you? And yes, I lost my sense for a regrettable moment, yet still managed not to throttle him. Because I realized what his game was. That is his MO., Trixie. Knowing the precise buttons to needle to get what he wants from others. He is a master, no legendary manipulator. The mere fact you share his bed proves it. He is taking advantage of your lost state, to what end I can only guess.”
“Yeah, because he can’t just like me for me,” I hiss. “He can’t think I’m sexy. He can’t just want to be with me.”
“I am sure he does. How could he not? But drawing pure, true affection from that man would be like drawing blood from a stone.”
“Look, I’m not expecting him to fall head over heels in love with me. Hell, I don’t even want him to. He’s fun. He spoils me. It’s nice. It’s easy. That’s it. Am I not allowed to have a little harmless fun for once in my fucking life?” I shout to the heavens.
“Not when you have chosen to run and hide and have your supposed fun with a python who is ever so slowly coiling himself around your neck. Well, I will be damned if I allow him to strangle and devour you merely because at present you are not strong enough to fend him off.”
“I do not want you to save me from anything, Oliver.”
“Yes, but you need someone to,” he states as gospel. “And you have saved me so many times in so many different ways, it is more than time I take my turn.”
“You don’t owe me a fucking thing, Oliver,” I say angrily.
“I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay even should I live another five hundred years,” he states as plain fact.
His vehemence, his utter conviction in his words renders me momentarily speechless. He uses my befuddled state to his advantage, taking a step toward me. I can smell his cologne, his shampoo. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed that scent until this very moment. I’m suddenly transported back to that night in Colorado on my first case where I cried and cried in his arms as he sung me lullabies until I fell asleep. It was the first time in forever I felt safe. Cared for. Understood. But I’m not that girl anymore. That was back when I was innocent. Before I literally threw him to the wolves.
I take a step back before I lose myself to those memories. “You’ve repaid me, okay? We’re even. You’re absolved. And I appreciate you coming. I do. But you need to go back to Kansas and find someone else to point your newfound savior complex at. This is my life. I choose what happens in it. And right now I choose to finish this conversation and go back to the club and my boyfriend. And if he strangles and devours me…that’s on me and me alone. Your five minutes are up. Don’t come back or I’ll let him do whatever he wants to you. Go home, Oliver. Just go,” I plead.
“Not without you,” he says.
“I am home.”
“If you believe this is home, that this is where you truly belong, then you are far more lost than I knew.” He stares down at the compass he gave me for Christmas with Will’s wedding ring beside it on the chain.
“But if I have to venture twenty thousand leagues into the abyss to pluck you out, I will.” He looks up into my eyes. “Just as you did for me. Just as I know you will always do for me. Even if you do not think you wish to leave that void, or even deserve to, even if its allure has enchanted you as it did me for so long, I will help you find your way out. Because you are worth fighting for. Even if you do not believe it at present, I do. Because you are,” he says with complete faith. “And until my last moment on this earth, I will do all in my power and beyond to make you believe it too.”
I stare into his gray eyes and for a glorious moment I experience a sensation I didn’t think I had inside me anymore. It starts in my stomach with the butterflies that then flutter through my whole body, their tiny wings fanning the embers almost extinguished by life into full blown flames. Of hope. And in this moment, I do believe. Oliver smiles, a pure radiant smile that somehow makes him into the most beautiful creature ever to grace this universe. “There you are,” he whispers.
“Beatrice?”
Connor’s brogue shatters the spell into a trillion tiny pieces. It jolts me out of our two person universe back into this less thrilling yet far more cold, frightening one. I can breathe in this realm at least. I quickly glance back at my boyfriend who stands half a block away with his arms folded across his chest, glowering as if he’s just caught us screwing against the wall. Guilt overwhelms me all of a sudden, or maybe that’s just a convenient excuse, I step back from my friend. Oliver doesn’t hide his anger and disappointment as I do. God, that expression, those piercing eyes and frowning mouth, are worse than a shiv to my heart. I actually cringe and have to return my gaze to Connor. “Everything’s fine,” I call to him. “I’m coming.”
“Do not go,” Oliver says.
I turn back to Oliver but stare at his chest. “Don’t make this any worse. Please. Just go. Please. It’s not worth it. Go.”
Head bowed, I turn my back on Oliver like a coward and begin toward Connor. He lowers his arms from his chest and smiles as I approach. A slightly smug smile I kind of want to rip off his face. I pass him with a word. I don’t want to speak or be spoken to ever again. Talking just seems to cause more turmoil and troubles. More confusion. Connor at least keeps his distance as I make my way in a daze to the club because I don’t know where else to go.
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