by C. D. Hussey
* * * *
Darus was zoned out on the TV when someone pounded on his front door. The violent knocking was startling enough, the fact that it was his front door made it even more alarming. No one used his front door. No one he knew anyway.
Had he latched the shutters after Clare fled? Shit, he hadn't. At least the deadbolt auto locked. There were plenty of crazy people in the Quarter. He might normally be one of them, but he wasn't hopped up on PCP or bath salts. He couldn't say the same about the stranger outside trying to beat down his door.
Peeling away the curtain, he peered through the crack.
"Fuck." Jerking the deadbolt free, he yanked open the door. "Jesus, calm your shit. What do you want?"
Armand's stance reminded Darus of an agitated gorilla. He'd probably beat his chest at any moment. Shit, maybe he'd been too hasty opening the door. Armand's repressed temper was more dangerous than PCP or bath salts.
"What did you do to Clare?"
He started to snap a retort and then stopped himself. Getting Armand riled up wasn't going to help his case, and the last time he'd responded to Armand's accusation with a smart-ass comment, he wound up with a broken nose and a nice cozy cot in jail. Dropping his chin to his chest, he stepped back and opened the door wide. "Why don't you come in."
Crickets? Were those crickets he heard?
He lifted his head. When his gaze met Armand's, the other man seemed to snap out of a daze and shoved past him. He stomped around the living room and then wheeled on him. "She was here, wasn't she?"
Darus quietly shut the front door. He wasn't surprised Armand could smell Clare since her scent was so similar to Julia's. "Of course she was here. Willingly, and happily I might add, until I said something stupid. Which really shouldn't surprise anyone. Especially not you."
Armand closed the distance between them, just as threatening as the silverback gorilla he resembled. "She came home completely undone. What fucked up mind game did you pull?"
At one time, very recently in fact, Armand intimidated the shit out of him. He was bigger, in many ways he was meaner, and his temper and sense of righteousness could be downright dangerous.
Darus may have opened his mouth foolishly, but he hadn't done Clare wrong and wasn't going to let the amazing evening they'd spent together be twisted into something sordid. Well, beyond the natural sordidness of hot, dirty sex.
"You need the back the fuck off," Darus said. "You are in my house, under my invitation, leave the testosterone at the door." Armand cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, I said something stupid but I doubt it's what you think. I didn't mean to upset her. I really didn't. I'm crazy about your sister-in-law, bat-shit crazy. I'm sure as hell not going to apologize for it. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hate me, either. But I jumped the gun. Even knowing what she's been through, I couldn't seem to help myself and divulged my desire to be with her and only her. When she balked and expressed an interest in maintaining her freedom, I got jealous. It freaked her out. Rightfully so."
The intensity of Armand's scrutiny could be felt across the room. His brow knitted together, he blinked a few times, and then asked, "That's it?"
"Yes. And I don't care what you say, or Julia thinks, if I can find a way to be the man Clare needs, I won't hesitate to pursue her. In fact, whatever it takes. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do for her."
Armand blinked a few more times. "I..."
"You what?"
"I…don't know what to say."
"There's a first time for everything."
Armand almost smiled. He shook his head and jabbed his finger at Darus, started to say something then stopped, curling his finger back into his fist, which he bounced against his chin.
"Just say it. You won't tell me anything I haven't told myself."
"Angel thinks you have changed, and while I believe she's overly optimistic, I also value her opinion. And what you did for Clare the other day was…what you should have done. I'll say thank you anyway." Armand's jabbing finger came back out. "But if you do anything to hurt her…"
"Trust me. I'll be the first one to kick my ass."
There was that almost smile again. "Good." Armand headed for the door. After he pulled it open he turned, started to say something, stopped, and then left without saying anything.
Befuddled, Darus locked the door behind him, clicked off the TV, and then headed for bed, painfully aware Clare's scent was going to be strong as shit there.
Did he just have a moment with Armand? Shit, they were one step away from a slap on the back and a beer.
First the cop and now Armand? Hell was officially frozen over. Solid ice, frostbite in seconds, fucking Antarctica frozen.
* * * *
Armand didn't know how to feel about his encounter with Darus. He'd gone to the man's house with every intention of ripping him a new one, but the bastard had been so genuine, so sincere, so…out of character.
And he'd suddenly grown a spine. Without the smug attitude it was something Armand could actually respect.
It left him with a bit of a conundrum. Julia had no idea he'd left to confront Darus and he was half tempted not to tell her. Because if he did he'd also have to tell her he was beginning to think Darus really had changed. Or at least he didn't seem to be the self-absorbed arrogant little prick he used to be.
But given the recent problems his marriage had suffered because he was too much of a coward to confide in his wife, he wasn't going to risk the smallest deception, even if he knew his opinion wouldn't make her happy.
* * * *
Julia stared at her husband. "Didn't we talk about this the other night? You're supposed to be my backup army. Team Clare, remember?"
"I am your backup army. Always. I just wanted to put it out there."
Armand had just finished recounting his earlier powwow with the asshole who'd sent her sister home in tears. It didn't matter that Darus' explanation of the events leading up to Clare's breakdown matched her explanation. Or that Darus hadn't actually done anything truly wrong. This time.
"I'm not saying we give it our blessing. I just think we need to stay out of the way. To quit interfering. After all, it hasn't done us much good so far."
"I don't know if I'm ready for that."
With a gentle grip, Armand took her elbow and lead her to the couch, easing her into a sitting position. "You have to see this from Clare's perspective," he said as he sat beside her. "Neither you nor I like Darus, but Clare seems to. How would you have felt if she'd been adamantly opposed to me?"
"Are you really comparing yourself to Darus?"
"To the outside world am I really that different?"
"Yes." But she knew she was wrong. To her ex, Jeff, or even some of her co-workers—if they knew half the details—Darus and Armand would seem the same. Freaks who liked to drink blood.
"I'm not ready," she said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.
He laughed and slid his arm around her shoulders. "That's okay my pouty little temptress. For now I think it's a moot point. But when the issue presents itself again, which I'm sure it will, we need to be prepared."
She thought about her conversation with Clare and knew he was probably right. As much as she hated the idea. "Fine. Bridge. Crossed. Later."
"Good." He nuzzled into her neck. "You remember earlier when we discussed going inside…?"
The Claredarus fiasco was immediately forgotten as his full lips tasted the flesh on her neck. "Hmm?"
"Right." He stood and pulled her with him. "Forget this drama. I'll make you forget it."
When his lips touched hers it was forgotten. Darus who?
She immediately felt like Scarlett O'Hara: "I won't think about that today. I'll think about it tomorrow."
Yes, indeed.
Chapter Ten
Her sleeping pills weren't doing jack shit, and all Clare did was toss and turn all night. Snippets from the past flashed relentlessly in and out of her brain. It wasn't a specific memory, but a series of memo
ries strung together to form a movie of every mistake she'd ever made. The last conversation she'd had with her mother before she died, when Clare told her—in typical teenaged fashion—how she was ruining her life. The frat party she'd attended as a freshman where she'd gotten arrested for Minor in Possession. The first argument she'd had with Chris where the signs he was going to turn abusive were there and she ignored them.
It was like her brain was trying to remind her what an idiot she'd been over the years. She really wanted to tell it to fuck off.
And of course, swimming in the middle was her meltdown over Darus' jealousy. She couldn't quite figure that one out. Shouldn't she be happy she got away from him before he turned into another Chris? Shouldn't that decision go in the "win" column?
She finally gave up on the shut-eye around nine a.m., dragging her corpse-like body out of bed and dropping it into the shower. She stayed there until her hands and feet were prunes and she was afraid if any more purple went down the drain, her hair would be some weird bluish-lavender color.
The day passed quickly enough. A walk for coffee, a visit to Nikki's studio, several hours helping get the garage gallery in order...before she knew it, someone was ringing the dinner bell. And by dinner bell, she meant her phone.
"I want to call a truce," Julia said. "And to apologize."
"I'm listening."
"Why don't we do it over some food? How does a juicy pile of meat sound?"
"Why, Jules, what a personal question."
"I mean for dinner."
"And dessert."
"I'm serious."
"Let me guess: Armand is busy."
"He has a business meeting of some sort—I really am okay with the vegetarianism, by the way."
"So much so you're soliciting me to devour innocent animal flesh with you?"
"I was thinking barbeque," Julia said sheepishly. "Are cows and pigs really so innocent?"
"Devils, every one of them. I'm in."
"Great. There's a place in the Warehouse District that's pretty decent. I mean, it's not St. Louis or Kansas City—"
"—but it is animal flesh," Clare finished for her.
"Exactly. So, I'll swing by and pick you up…?"
"On your scooter?" Julia had traded her car in for a Vespa when she moved south.
"Will that embarrass you?"
Clare might not be able to see her face, but she could tell Julia was grinning like a damn fool.
"Bring it! Don't be surprised if I scream like a bitch as we race down the street at a speedy twenty miles per hour."
"We'll be lucky to break fifteen. I'll see you in five."
The restaurant was small and hole-in-the-wall-ish enough to be considered a respectable barbeque joint. The beers were cold, the tablecloths plastic, and every chair had at least one rip in its vinyl seat. A few minutes after sitting, there were two pulled pork sandwiches and a huge pile of fries on the table.
Clare was glad her fingers weren't anywhere near Julia's sandwich as she lunged for it. "You're okay with the vegetarianism?" she asked as Julia took a huge bite and sauce dribbled down her chin.
"Yeph."
Clare raised her eyebrows. "The bloody evidence all over your face says otherwise."
Julia took a few more bites before she finally set down the sandwich and grabbed a napkin. "I'm fine with it." She dabbed at the rivers of sauce running from both corners of her mouth. "Really." She gave Clare a hard look. "It's just, I don't get the opportunity much, and well, animals are really tasty." She took another bite.
"Fine. I'll quit giving you shit."
"Hank-oo." After a few dedicated chews, a large swallow of beer, another pass with her napkin, Julia folded her hands neatly on the table and leveled her gaze on Clare—who suddenly felt like a kid about to get scolded for putting her elbows on the table.
Which she promptly removed.
"Armand said something to me last night that got me thinking."
"Uh oh."
"No, it's a good thing. I guess. You know, when I came back from New Orleans last year, I was convinced Armand was a lying, scheming creep."
"I remember."
"Well, what if you'd been as opposed to him and his lifestyle as I had initially been? What if you'd sided with me? If you hadn't encouraged me to let go of my prejudice, to accept him for him, I might not be here today. I might still be miserable and dating Jeffs in St. Louis."
"Maybe. I appreciate the 'thank you', but you thanked me profusely the next day if I remember correctly. Right after I noted you were walking funny." Julia just grinned and took a drink of beer. "What are you trying to say, sis?"
"I'm done with the Darus bashing. And I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time about it. I still think he's the worst possible choice, but if you want to," she grimaced, "be with—"
"No worries," Clare said, cutting her off. "It's not going to happen. Your reasons for hating him might be wrong, but my reasons for not wanting to be with him are not. I saw the signs. I ignored them with Chris. I'm not going to ignore them this time. I can't do jealous. I can't do possessive. I was with Darus one night and his giant green monster came out. And I'm not talking about his man meat."
"Jesus!" Julia nearly choked on her beer. "God…I keep forgetting you slept with him." Her expression turned both wicked and somehow apprehensive at the same time. "What's he like in bed?"
"Really fucking good. He has a huge cock. Like, Black Mamba dildo huge."
Simultaneously they both burst out laughing and continued laughing until tears streamed down their faces and Clare could barely breathe. People in the restaurant turned to stare at them.
"Look," Julia said after a few minutes and her giggles started tapering off. She wiped at the tear stained makeup under her eyes. "I know you know my stance on Darus, giant dick or not." She choked on a giggle. "So I won't keep beating that dead horse." Another giggle swallowed.
Clare half expected someone to yell, "Giggity."
"But you've been through a lot," Julia continued, twisting her face into a serious expression. "First just Chris in general, and then him showing up here... It's no wonder you freaked out last night. And rightfully so. But it'll get better, I'm sure of it. I know I've been weird about stuff and I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I don't, or won't, support you. I will. No matter what. Darus is the wrong guy, though. I just worry..."
Clare leaned over and embraced her sister. "I know," she whispered.
Now they were both crying. First a giggle fest now tears... Weren't they a couple of bipolar bitches. The other restaurant patrons probably thought they were crazy.
Knowing she had Julia's support made her feel better, even optimistic, like everything would work out. Or if it didn't, it didn't matter because they had each other and that was what really mattered.
"You don't have to worry about Darus, though," Clare said as she pulled back. "Really. I'm 100% done with him. Jealousy and I do not mix."
"Good. Can't say I'm disappointed."
"I didn't think you would be." For some reason her smile felt forced.
But she wasn't going to cave this time. She'd done it every time with Chris. Every time he'd gotten drunk and punched the wall. Every time he'd screamed at her, belittled her. Every broken dish, every innocent drive-by when she was having drinks at a friend's houses, every screened call… She'd convinced herself he didn't mean it, it would get better, things would change.
And everyone knew how that story ended.
So no matter how much she wanted to pretend Darus' jealously was a brief lapse in judgment, that it didn't mean he'd eventually turn into a controlling, possessive prick, she was not going to let herself be fooled. What did President Bush number two say? "Fool me once, shame on…shame on you. Fool me, you can't get fooled again."
With a smile that wasn't so forced, she raised her glass in a silent toast that Julia happily met. Bush might not have gotten the saying right, but he'd certainly gotten the sentiment right. She wasn't getting fooled aga
in.
Chapter Eleven
Ignoring Darus, or the emotions he stirred in her, wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. For the first few days she was able to avoid him. Physically at least. He was on her mind a lot.
Thankfully, she was able to stay busy. The gallery itself took a lot of time. Kate was prepping for a Friday opening and even though it was over a week away, they still had a shit-ton of work to do. She also started work at Nikki's studio. Mostly just design work and receptionist duty, but she began training with the gun, practicing basic designs on honeydew melons. She gave one melon a really horrible unicorn tattoo, but otherwise, working with the tattoo gun didn't seem so different from a pencil.
She saw Darus a couple of times in the evening, always coming into Luxure. She quickly learned to avoid the bar completely—a pain since it was the cheapest place to get a cocktail. Free.
But she wasn't ready to deal with him, especially since seeing him in the flesh made her doubt her decision to not be with him. It would remind her how great their night together had been, and how much potential there had been in those few hours. Before he ruined it with his jealous rant.
Whenever they crossed paths, she'd smile courteously, wave, and promptly blow out of the room. It worked a few times, until she ran into him on the street outside the bar.
It was still pretty early, so she hadn't expected to bump into him as he rounded the corner. Unless she just rudely turned around and fled, there was nowhere to go, no easy, polite way to escape.
"Hey," she said, aware she sounded painfully uncomfortable.
He held up his hands. "Please don't run away."
She laughed, but realized she sounded like someone was giving her a rectal exam and she was trying to make light of it—like when the Gyno made awkward conversation with you while their hand was shoved up your hoo-haw.
"Who's running?"
"You are. Or you have been all week. Can't we talk about this?"
"There's nothing to talk about."