by C. D. Hussey
"I have a lot of practice." He glanced at the bag. "You don't have to hold that." He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers. "They work fine."
"Maybe I want to." She caught his gaze. He had the most amazing eye color: a true gray without a hint of blue or green. It was especially striking against his jet-black lashes and light olive skin. "Thank you. You didn't have to help me."
"I wasn't going to sit back and let that dick clock you. What kind of asshole would that make me?"
"Didn't you kill a girl last year?"
He pushed her hand away and rose. The act wasn't violent, but it was definitely deliberate. Once again, she'd opened her mouth without thinking.
"I'm going to go."
"No, wait." She put her hand on his shoulder to stop him. "I'm sorry. I really am." She made a feeble attempt at a smile. "You have to remember who I'm living with. That kind of hatred will rub off on a girl."
He huffed.
"Don't go," she said. "Please."
He hesitantly returned to the barstool. She lifted the frozen beans back to his face.
"I'm never going to live that down," he said.
"What happened? I've heard everyone else's story but yours."
He sighed. "I think it probably happened about like you've heard. I ran into her—Eve—on the street. She begged me to bite her. I did. When she passed out I freaked. She was always fucked up; I honestly thought she'd sleep it off." He trapped her gaze with his. "She didn't." For a moment his eyes were distant, lost. Then something seemed to click inside him and the emotion was wiped away. "Edamame. What the fuck is edamame?"
"Soy beans, I think."
"Why does Armand have soy beans in his freezer?"
"Oh my God, you would not believe the shit that man eats. I have never seen someone consume so much tofu in my life."
Darus' eyebrows scrunched together. "Is he a vegetarian or something?"
"Yeah. We went to some vegan restaurant yesterday. I really hope that isn't where he's headed. I can't see Julia giving up cheese."
He laughed. "Cheese would be tough." The smile suddenly dropped from his face. "How often did that guy hit you?" he asked.
"Only the one time. He was more of a shover. He really liked to grab my arm and fling me around. His specialty though, was verbal abuse."
"Why'd you put up with it?"
"I didn't. I'm here."
His hand covered the one she rested on the granite bar. "I'm glad," he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. He ran his thumb over her skin. She liked the feel of his flesh on hers. It sent little tingles up her arm. "I'll happily take a punch for you anytime."
"What the fuck?"
They both turned to see Armand standing in the doorway, his face enraged. Clare had never even seen him angry, let alone looking like he was about to rip the heads off a pack of wild dogs. Julia's head popped around his back and any beauty she'd possessed earlier in the night was replaced with disgusted horror.
"Oh my God! Clare!"
Darus rose as Armand charged toward them, Julia on his heels. Holding his hands up in surrender, he said, "Relax. I'm leaving."
"Why the fuck are you even in my house?"
"I brought him here," Clare said. "Chris came by and—"
Armand didn't seem to hear her. He was focused on Darus with such burning intensity it was frightening. "You are never to step foot in here again, do you understand? If I ever see you anywhere near my living room I will fuck up what's left of your face."
"No problem." Darus was already heading for the door. Armand shadowed him, hands clenched into tight fists, nostrils flared, chest heaving like a bull ready to charge. Darus pulled open the door leading back into the courtyard. "Thanks for the cold pack, Clare," he said.
"Thanks for using your face as a shield."
He didn't seem to be paying attention to Armand staring him down. "Any time, love." Finally, he glanced at the other man. "Nice place," he said, and disappeared outside.
After a few moments of staring out the door—presumably to make sure Darus left the property—Armand turned to her. The violent hatred was gone from him expression, but his eyes were not nice. "Want to tell me what is going on?" He sounded calm enough.
"Why the hell would you bring him in here?" Julia's tone was not so calm. In fact, she was downright shrill. "After what we talked about tonight?"
"Look, it isn't what you think—"
"Isn't what we think?" Julia's hands were waving around so much, she looked like she might take flight any minute. "He was holding your hand and looking at you with googly eyes. I can't believe you'd even consider…"
This was fucking ridiculous. After everything, she didn't need this kind of scrutiny.
"Look," Clare interjected. "Before you both get your panties bunched so far up your asses you need a plunger to retrieve them, I invited him up here because Chris showed up, thought he was going to use me as a punching bag, and Darus got between us. In fact, he took a punch squarely in the face for me. The least I could do was offer some ice."
"Chris was here?"
"Yes. In fact, I should probably file a police report."
"Are you okay?"
"I am. Thanks to Darus. If he hadn't showed up, I don't know what would have happened."
Some of the anger drained from her face. She sat on a barstool. "I'm so glad you're all right."
"Me too," Armand said quietly, looking pensive. "I wonder what he's up to," he muttered, seemingly to himself.
"Who? Darus? Ever stop to think he might just be being nice? Or that he likes me?"
He gave her a patronizing smile. "He's too narcissistic for that."
"I agree," Julia piped in. "He's got to be up to something."
Clare tossed the thawing bag of edamame on the counter. "Nice." She'd never realized her sister could be such an unforgiving, judgmental bitch. No wait, she did know that. She was just appalled Julia couldn't even imagine Darus' motives might not be evil.
"I'm going to bed," she told them, heading for the stairs.
The police could wait, and arguing with her sister and brother-in-law could definitely wait.
She wished she had Darus' number so she could at least send him a thank you text. Even if she'd already verbalized it, she wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated everything he'd done for her tonight. No matter what his motives might be.
* * * *
The first thing Darus did when he hit the sidewalk was pull out a cigarette and smoke it to the filter. For a second he considered tracking down Chris and beating his ass. But he'd never been much of a fighter, and given Chris was piss drunk and stupid angry, Darus was pretty sure he'd be the one who ended up in the hospital—and then probably jail. And Chris would still be walking the streets.
So swallowing what was left of his pride, he headed for Luxure instead. Just as he hoped, Detective Kevin McCoy was sitting at a table across from Angel. He slipped into an empty seat next to him.
Angel stared at him in horror. "What happened to your face?"
"Clare's ex. Lovely man."
"He's here in New Orleans?" Kevin asked.
"It seems so. Hey, I'm a little worried for Clare. Is there any way to file a restraining order on her behalf? She didn't seem to want to deal with it tonight and I'm afraid if it doesn't happen now, she'll just blow if off. And the only reason I got this," he pointed his index finger at his bruised noggin', "is because I intercepted Chris' fist as it headed for her face."
"Unfortunately, no. She has to do it."
"Fuck. That's what I was afraid of."
"You can press charges…"
"Even though his attack wasn't directed at me?"
"How'd your forehead get split open?"
"He headbutted me. I had him pinned, though. And he left with a broken hand."
Kevin shrugged. "You can still press charges."
"My parole officer would kill me. This is exactly the shit I'm supposed to avoid."
"It's up to you�
�"
"No, no. Of course I'll do it. I was just thinking out loud." He knew he was risking jail, but also knew it didn't matter. If pressing charges against that dick Chris put him in jail for a few days until Clare could sort things out, Darus would happily join him. Maybe they'd even be cellmates. Wouldn't that be swell. "I'm not good with this cop shit. You mind calling…?"
Kevin already had his phone out and was dialing. That answered that.
Mentally prepping himself to speak with the police, Darus caught a glimpse of Angel beaming at him like a proud mother. Before she could open her mouth to praise him for his good karma or some bullshit, he turned away.
Afraid his sudden feelings of selflessness were a fluke, he went to the bar and ordered a drink. He needed one anyway if he was going to deal with Johnny Law.
* * * *
Julia stared in the direction Clare had just skulked off like a petulant teenage. She turned to Armand. "Can you believe it?"
"No." He tossed the bag of edamame into the trash.
Feeling somewhat dazed, Julia sat on the couch, her purse falling limply onto the floor. Clare and Darus… It was…horrifying.
Armand joined her with two glasses of wine. Taking one, she smiled gratefully at him. "You need one too?" She nodded toward his glass.
"Maybe even more than you." He held the glass out in an invitation to "toast" and after she touched her glass to his, they both took a drink.
She sank into the couch cushions and he followed her. "What are we going to do?" she wondered.
"Strangling him probably isn't an option, is it?"
"Not unless you can guarantee you won't get arrested."
"What about Clare?"
"I'd rather not strangle her."
"Can we lock her in her room? Only until Darus loses interest…"
"Now, that's an option."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. All Julia could think about was Clare's hand in Darus' and them staring at each other all lovey-dovey like. It was making her want to puke.
"What is that?" Setting his glass on the coffee table, Armand rose and went to the window. The shutters were open and when he pushed the curtains aside, she saw what he had. Police lights, right outside.
Words were unnecessary when he glanced at her. Her wine glass joined his on the table, and they both rushed down the stairs into Luxure.
Darus was sitting at a back table talking to two police officers.
"What's going on?" Armand asked Slade.
"I guess Clare's ex was harassing her and Darus intervened and got clocked a good one. He's pressing charges against the guy. McCoy told him it was the easiest way to get the bastard in jail and away from Clare. I offered my ass kicking services, but they were declined."
Julia remembered what Clare had said but couldn't believe it. Apparently, neither did Armand. "He's pressing charges…to protect Clare?"
"So it seems."
Armand looked utterly confused as he slipped into the back room.
Julia followed. "What?" she asked. He just shook his head and headed for the stairs, climbing them slowly, like he was chewing something over. "What?" she repeated, a half step behind him. "Armand, please, tell me what you're thinking."
"It's just…" He pushed open the door to their apartment. "…I've known Darus a long time. It's completely out of character for him to do something for someone else unless it directly benefits him. I don't see what the perks for him are."
"He gets Clare?"
"I think he was well on his way to achieving that goal—without going to the extra effort of contacting the police."
She barely heard the last part; she was fighting the bile trying to climb out of her stomach.
"I just wonder if there might be some truth to him wanting to turn over a new leaf."
"Not you too!"
"I'm not conceding to it. Just considering the possibility..."
"No."
"Not to even ponder—"
"No. Everyone else is team Darus. Angel, Kate, even Slade. Someone has to be on my side: team anyone but Darus. Or Chris. We can call it team Clare."
He laughed. "Okay." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissed her cheek, and guided her back to the couch. "I'm on whatever team you're on." Taking her with him as he sat, he released her to retrieve their wine and then slid his arm back around her.
She settled her head against his chest, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his touch and his amazing scent. She used to think it was the cologne he wore that made him smell so delicious—and that was partially it—but he came out of the shower smelling divine. Most of it was simply his body chemistry combined with his clean, healthy, heavily spiced diet. Add the Myrrh he liked to wear and he smelled like heaven.
"So what do we do about Clare?" she asked.
"The only thing we can. Make her see what a deviant Darus truly is."
Chapter Seven
Clare woke up the next morning feeling like she had ants in her pants—well, panties—and her skin was two sizes too small. She needed a change, something to drastically alter her world—even more than leaving Chris and moving to NOLA. A metamorphoses, so to speak, to celebrate ridding herself of Chris. Something to mark the occasion, to signify becoming a new person.
Since she couldn't slip into a new skin suit, she'd have to settle for something modifiable, like her hair. A new tattoo might also satisfy the itch, but she was smart enough to think through her tattoos. She'd seen enough bad decisions permanently drawn on people's skin while working at Skintasm to know impulsive tattoos were rarely a good idea. A new piercing was also an option, but she couldn't think of a body part she wanted to pierce that didn't already have a hole.
So hair it was. A cut wouldn't be enough; she needed to change the color. The blue was way too peppy. She wanted something dark to match her mood, something that would easily cover the old color and her roots. Straight black was too boring, but surely there was another dark color that would work.
She knew she should go down to the police station and file a restraining order against Chris, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. Instead, the minute she was presentable enough to be seen in public, she headed down to a Goth/punk store on Decatur.
She picked up some dark purple vegetable dye and a cute mini that was on clearance, and headed home, stopping briefly for a cup of coffee.
After letting the dye saturate for a good hour, she went after it with the scissors. She routinely cut her own hair and had for years. Using a second mirror for the back, she gave herself an edgy, stacked bob that was shoulder length in the front and super short in the back. In some ways she was removing of the last piece of Chris, since she'd only grown her hair at his request. Chopping all the length off the back was the final fuck you to the relationship and it felt good for that weight to be lifted.
She was putting the final touches on the new 'do with a flatiron when Julia suddenly appeared in the bathroom mirror behind her.
"Looks good," Julia said.
"Thanks." Clare ran the iron a couple more times over the longer front strips of hair, making sure they framed her face perfectly before shutting it off and turning to Julia.
"Want to go get something to eat?"
"Yes. On one condition. We're not talking about last night."
Julia grimaced. "I—"
"I'm serious. There are plenty of other things to talk about."
"Fine."
They had dinner at an upscale French/German restaurant in the Central Business District. Armand was apparently meeting with a counselor at Tulane University to see what classes he needed to finish up his undergrad degree. Clare was pretty sure Julia chose the restaurant because there wasn't a single vegetarian item on the menu. Julia ordered lamb.
"Chris was arrested last night," she said midway through the meal.
Clare wasn't surprised. Relieved, but not surprised. "What for?"
"Drunk and disorderly."
Clare groaned. "Great. That'll
keep him for what, two hours?"
"I think he'll be in there a little longer than that."
"I've been arrested for drunk and disorderly. Trust me, the cops only keep you until the drunk part is out of the equation. God, I should have filed that restraining order today."
"I don't think you have to worry. Yet. It's a little more serious than that."
"What do you mean?"
She may as well have asked the meaning of life the way Julia was chewing on her answer. After Clare stared her down for a good minute, she finally spoke. "He's also been arrested for battery."
Again, she wasn't exactly surprised or anything, but unless someone was flirting with her, Chris didn't usually attack random strangers. Plus, Julia's hesitance when answering made her suspicious. "Against who?"
Julia moved her food around on the plate.
"Against who?" Julia took a bite. If she was avoiding this much, it could only be one person. "It was Darus wasn't it?"
"Yes." She exhaled the word like an exasperated teenager.
"Why would he do that? I mean, I know Chris hit him, but he seemed more worried about me calling the police than pressing charges himself… Wait!" Clare felt her face light up. "He did it for me, didn't he? Because I didn't call."
"I doubt it. Darus is completely self-serving."
She wanted to argue about how stepping in front of Chris' fist as it flew toward her face was the opposite of self-serving, but decided it wasn't worth her energy. Julia wouldn't be convinced unless Darus took a bullet for her or something.
"Well, whatever. At least Chris is in jail."
"The battery charge won't last forever. You still need to file a restraining order."
"I will. Maybe tomorrow."
Neither Chris nor Darus was brought up again, and that suited Clare just fine. She still had an itch that needed scratching, so after dinner and after they got back home, she excused herself from Julia's company with an "I'm beat" excuse. Once again, she felt like a defiant teenager as she threw on her new mini, a lot more makeup, and snuck out the back entrance into the courtyard.
It wasn't that she didn't love her sister or want to spend time with her, but she needed to dance, drink too much, and maybe flirt inappropriately with a guy. To get crazy. Julia was cool, but she was enough of a fuddy-duddy that Clare doubted she'd approve if she made out with a random stranger.