“You and I were never anything. I thought maybe if you witnessed something this perfect, you could fully understand that,” Con managed to explain as he knelt upright once again. With his weight off her back, Dulcie finally slid away till she laying flat on her stomach, her legs on either side of him. Frannie’s eyes skated over his naked form and he smiled at her.
“Then what was tonight all about?” she demanded, clutching her purse to her chest, as if the overpriced bag could somehow protect her from the horrifying scene she was witnessing.
“This. Just this,” he sighed, running his fingers down Dulcie’s calf. She twitched, then slowly rolled away from him and onto her back.
“I cannot believe I let you touch me, and you’re choosing that over me,” Frannie shrieked. “You’re sick. You two are FREAKS, you did this on purpose. I think you’re disgusting.”
“Geez, Fran, keep talking sexy like that and you might turn me on,” Dulcie said in a snide tone.
“I’m going to be sick. I can’t … I just can’t. I cannot,” Frannie actually started crying, and she turned and hurried away from the door. They listened as she pounded down the stairs, and both smiled when they heard the front door slam shut.
“You were outstanding,” Con groaned, dropping down and planting a kiss between Dulcie’s breasts.
“You know,” she started as he stretched out at her side. “When you asked me if I trusted you, I thought it was about the knife. I thought you wanted to cut me.”
“Oh no. No knife. Not this time. I wanted to do something that would cause permanent damage,” he sighed, cupping her breast in his hand. He could feel her heartbeat, feel how fast it was racing.
“You could’ve told me, let me prepare,” she pointed out. He chuckled and leaned close to kiss the side of her chest.
“And ruin the fun? It was my little treat for you. The last nail in the coffin,” he explained, trailing his tongue across her nipple and then watching it tighten up.
“How sweet,” she whispered, and he realized she was still staring at the ceiling. He scooted up and kissed underneath her ear.
“I knew you’d love it,” he whispered back, and listened as she took a ragged breath.
“I did. I do. I love everything you do.”
“And that’s why you’re such a good girl.”
“But now everyone will know. About us.”
“I want everyone to know. By the time we’re done in this town, they’ll never be able to forget us.”
Her eyes fell shut again.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
22
Dulcie could feel the change the moment she walked into work. When she went out onto the floor, she could tell people were staring at her. Frannie had probably started making phone calls the moment she’d left Con’s house, and then had all Monday to gossip about the incident. Fuller was a very small town, news spread fast. But Dulcie just narrowed her eyes and barked at people to get back to work, knowing that at least in the restaurant, no one would dare to question her about it.
Well, almost no one.
“Heard some crazy shit about you today,” David said the moment she went behind the bar.
“Fascinating,” was her only response as she dropped off a case of wine.
“You told me you weren’t dating that Con dude,” he pointed out. She nodded.
“I know.”
“But I heard …”
“Heard what?”
“Heard some stuff.”
She turned away from what she was doing and fully faced him.
“If you have the balls to bring it up, then at least have the balls to say it,” she told him. “Heard what, David? That someone walked in on us having sex? That I was fucking him? Yeah, that all happened, but last I checked, sex didn’t equal dating someone, and even if it did, I’m still not sure how it’s any of your business.”
David looked shocked. At her demeanor, at her tone of voice. He’d only ever seen at-work-Dulcie. He’d never seen the real Dulcie, and now that he was getting a glimpse, he didn’t seem to like her too much.
“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” he asked in a soft voice. She rolled her eyes.
“Did you also hear that we were in a house, in a bedroom? It wasn’t exactly on the side of the street – she came in, uninvited, and then went running all over town. What he and I do is private.”
And I ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie …
“You’ve changed. Remember, I said it the other week? I bet it’s this guy. Don’t change for some guy, Dulcie,” David urged her.
“I’m not changing for some guy, we’re just -”
“You are. Look, I heard some other stuff, too. Stuff he was doing right before he was doing you. You deserve better than that,” he stressed. She narrowed her eyes.
“You know,” Dulcie slid her hip along the side of the counter, moving so she was right in front of him. “This is super cute. I get it. Big bad boy comes back to town, you save the girl, I start sleeping with you, right? Wrong. I wouldn’t fuck you if you begged me to, and nothing will ever change that. So how about you keep your mouth shut, don’t talk about shit you don’t know anything about, and make the goddamn drinks.”
Again, a look of shock covering his face. She stared at him for a moment longer, almost daring him to speak, but when it was obvious he wouldn’t, she turned and walked away.
Everyone avoided her after that – all her orders were obeyed without a word, no one tried to chat her up or asked her any questions. The doors opened and things returned to normal for a bit. Most of their regulars were older people, fifties and above, who either didn’t have time for gossip, or just didn’t care. She was only a lowly waiter in their eyes.
Still. David’s questioning had just been a precursor to a bigger moment that was coming, she knew. As the hours went by, she prayed that maybe it would wait till the end of the night, after closing. But no such luck.
A little after eight o’clock, Jared strode through the restaurant, and he did not look happy. Dulcie was just coming out of the office when she saw him, and she quickly hurried to intercept him.
“I am at work, Jared,” she hissed, holding up her hands. “Can we please do this later?”
“Was it on purpose!?” he demanded.
“What!? What are you talking about? Stop, come in here,” she said, then grabbed his hand and dragged him to the office. He stopped in the doorway, though, and refused to budge.
“You know what I’m talking about, Dulcie. What the fuck is going on!? Why would you do something like that to me?”
“To you!? Jared, she walked in on us! Do you have an idea how embarrassing it was?” Dulcie pointed out. That seemed to surprise him and he frowned for a moment.
“Still. You told me he wasn’t your boyfriend, and -”
“I said it was complicated. Remember?”
“Yeah, looks real fucking complicated. I walk in on him fucking my wife, then find out an hour later, he was fucking you,” Jared snarled. Now it was Dulcie’s turn to pause. She hoped he didn’t notice.
“You saw them having sex?” she checked.
“Close enough! What the fuck, Dulcie? After your little pep talk, I raced off to tell her she needed to come home, but instead I walked into the room to find him practically elbow deep inside her,” he broke everything down. She let out a deep breath.
“Look, Con is entitled to do whatever he wants, and if that means having sex with me and messing around with other people, then he can do that,” she told him.
“This is not ‘other people’! This is my wife! He’s not entitled to ‘do’ my wife!” Jared yelled, and she winced. The office was at one end of the bar and opened directly onto the floor. Their interaction would not go unnoticed.
“Sounds to me like that’s something you should be explaining to your wife.”
Jared’s eyes got wide and he stared at her. It was like he was just realizing he had no clue who the person in front of him
was; that he’d never actually met Dulcie.
“Do you even care?” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “My marriage is over, and he was a part of that. He told her if she needed him, to come find him. And what did she do? She went there an hour later and found him – with you.”
Dulcie should’ve felt bad. Jared had never really done anything wrong, he wasn’t a bad guy. She couldn’t muster up the proper feelings, though. She was annoyed and she was angry and she was so very tired.
“Yeah, Jared. Your wife went to the home of the man you had just caught her cheating with, THAT’S the important part of the story. Not what or who he was doing,” she snapped.
“Believe me, I know that’s important. What the fuck is his deal with me? What did I ever do to him?” he demanded. She threw up her hands.
“Are you serious? He’s irrelevant. How can you not see that? What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s a disgusting human being who’s been fucking other men for years, but now you have an issue? Because it’s Con? Because it’s me? Your wife is a cum dumpster who left you for a guy who doesn’t even care about her, yet you’re here yelling at me? That’s fucked up. I’m nothing to you, Jared,” she was almost yelling by the end. He looked blown away.
“What is that supposed to mean!? You’re not nothing to me,” he insisted. She took another deep breath.
“Let me rephrase it – you’re nothing to me. You don’t exist to me. Why are you here? For a pity party? Well you came to the wrong place, because I don’t care. I don’t care what your wife did or how your marriage is ending or how bad Con made you feel. Your wife has treated me like shit for years, and you never said a word. Now that paradise is rocky and the magnificent Constantine is showing me attention again, suddenly I’m an option? Get fucked, Jared. Though you should probably get tested first, because safety doesn’t seem like a high priority for your wife when she’s fucking anything that moves.”
The entire restaurant was silent and Dulcie could hear as a fork fell onto a plate.
“This isn’t you,” Jared mumbled, taking a step back. “He’s done something to you. He ruins things, and he’s ruining you. He did this on purpose, I know it. He did it to end my marriage, and then he made sure Frannie saw you two together. You just can’t see it.”
See it? I orchestrated it. Con is just the star of the show – I’m the producer.
“If you need to tell yourself that to help you sleep better at night, Jared, then okay. Because you know what? Con sleeps perfectly fine, and I know that for a fact,” she kept her tone snide.
That one cut deep. It was obvious that for the most part, Jared assumed she was an innocent bystander. Just a stupid girl, caught up in Constantine’s sick little games. Blinded by his beauty, lost in love with him. But rubbing in the fact she was sleeping with him, it ruined the image a little bit. Made it harder to ignore the fact that maybe, just maybe, Con wasn’t the only big bad wolf lurking around.
“This is wrong, and you know it. You don’t mean any of this. What has he been saying to you? Just come with me, Dulcie. Come stay at my house, I can make sure -”
She burst out laughing. A loud, harsh sound. More like a cackle.
“Is that a fucking joke? Come stay with you!? Jesus, I’d rather just slit my wrists now and get it over with. You know what, fuck this. Fuck this place, fuck this town, and fuck you.”
Part of the uniform at the Blue Rock was a small black apron that all but covered the short skirts they wore. She yanked it off as she talked, then threw it in his face. While he stood there, stunned, she shoved him out of the way and stomped out of the office.
“Dulcie, maybe you should -” David was talking under his breath as she moved past him, and he reached out to grab her arm. She yanked away and continued on her war path.
“What’s the matter?” she yelled, turning in a circle as she walked and looking over the whole room, at the staring customers. “You all just love to whisper about shit, but when it’s in your face, suddenly you’ve got nothing to say? Cat got your tongue? C’mon! Can’t you say anything? Why can’t you say anything!? Jesus, none of you are real! None of you are actually alive, and you’re all just too stupid to even fucking realize it!”
She was shrieking by the end of her rant, but she couldn’t help it. She’d spoken the truth, and the truth was not meek. It was bold and it was brash, it knocked down doors and bellowed through hallways. Raced down train tracks and burned down buildings. Screaming it was like ripping a hole into reality. She may have been a wallflower, but most of the time, she felt like she was the only real thing around her. A 3D image in a cardboard cutout town. People just slid past her in their fake existence, not seeing her because she wasn’t in their dimension. She was on a higher plane.
As she ripped her hair out of its bun and stalked out of the building, she did realize one thing. There was a very distinct possibility she was also completely insane.
So what’ll it be? Exist on a higher plane from mere mortals and be crazy? Or retain some sanity and live amongst the flat people of the word?
23
“Dulcie.”
She burrowed further under her blanket.
“Duuuuuulcie.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tight.
“Why are you shutting me out?”
Con was on the other side of her apartment door. He could walk in at any moment, the thing was still busted. One solid hit and it would fall back off its hinges. Still, he stayed on his side and she listened as he scratched at the wood.
After her epic freak out, she’d gotten in her car and driven off. A half hour was a long time to sit with all the thoughts pinging around in her head. Constantine, her, the things they did together. The things they did apart. Was it growing into something great? Or was it all spiraling out of control? Con was playing a game, Jared had seen it from a mile away, and sure, Dulcie had arranged the game, had picked out the players. But Con had gone a step above and beyond her. Really dug salt into the wound. And he’d done it all without saying a word to her. Just like with his dad. Just like with leaving town. She’d never left Con in the dark, about anything, but he loved to let her wallow in it. Loved to leave her blind.
Oh, what big eyes you have …
After a couple more minutes of her ignoring him, he did push in the door. She listened as he shoved it to the side, then propped it back over the doorway. Then his footsteps, ominous in their slow approach to her bed. She had her back to him and she stayed under the sheet, curled into a ball.
“Little girl, what are we going to do with you?” he sighed, then she felt the mattress dip down as he laid behind her.
“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered. His arm wrapped around her middle, then he slid her across the bed, pulling her into his chest.
“Ah, yes. I heard about your little explosion, a friend called me. His dad witnessed the whole thing.”
“Awesome. I hope he recorded it.”
“Don’t be like this,” Con urged, squeezing her tight. “Talk to me. We’re in this together.”
“No,” she snapped. “No, we’re not. Was anyone busting your balls about our little peep show last night? Didn’t think so.”
“That’s what you’re upset about? You seemed pretty happy about it last night,” he laughed at her.
“Still. I didn’t know it was going to happen, I didn’t get a say in it, and now I’m having to deal with it. He was yelling at me, did you hear that? In front of everyone. I don’t like being part of a scene,” she informed him.
“Really? Cause I think screaming at everyone and saying they’re basically the walking dead is kinda creating a scene.”
“I was angry, and frustrated, and pissed off. First thing when I got there, David – the bartender – was giving me shit, asking about us, and I don’t know what to say, cause what the fuck are we?” she asked.
“That’s what’s bothering you?” Con sounded surprised.
“No. Yes. And I was alone, again, dealing with t
hese questions about you, and not knowing what to say,” she tried to explain it.
“Don’t say anything. You don’t owe anything to anyone, Dulcie. I told you to quit your job,” he reminded her, and she listened as he moved to sit up, his back against the window behind them.
“Easy for you to say, Daddy’s boy.”
Her voice held a lot of venom, but Con just laughed at her again.
“I like that. Make sure you scream it out when we’re having sex later tonight.”
“Fuck off. And then Jared showed up halfway through the night and started freaking out in front of customers. I don’t think he even really cared about Frannie cheating on him, he just cared because it was with you. That I was sleeping with you. You, you, you. I wanted to rip my hair out,” she kept explaining.
“Ah. I see now. Little girl is jealous,” he chuckled. She rolled over and from under the blanket, she punched him in the leg.
“I’m not jealous!” she shouted, continuing to hit him. “I’m angry because I have to deal with bullshit while you lead some life of luxury, doing god knows what during the day! That you make plans and do things and have thoughts without me! I’m upset because I … I …”
She ran out of words, but she still kept hitting. Con was laughing again, and he finally reached down and grabbed her. He wrestled around with her form and finally got his arms around her. She struggled as he lifted her, blankets and all, and deposited her on his lap.
“I know what your problem is,” he said, pulling the blanket away from her head. Then his arms locked around her, cradling her to him and preventing her from getting away.
“You’re my problem,” she complained, refusing to look at him. It was the truth. Things at once seemed clearer yet murkier when she was around Con. Were they in the dark together? Or was he blinding her? Swallowing her whole?
“You don’t care about your job, so quitting isn’t a big deal,” Con continued, his voice dropping low. “And the bartender is nobody to us, so obviously you can’t be upset over him. You enjoyed what we did to Jared, so don’t even try to tell me that’s an issue.”
“I don’t know why I speak, when clearly you know me so much better than I know myself,” she grumbled, pressing her cheek to his chest.
The Bad Ones Page 18