Expiez: Redeem Your Blood Lust Page 5

  "Yeah. I'm sure Julia is just trying to convince them what an asshole I am."

  "Given your history with her, I'm not sure I blame her."

  "It doesn't help that I'm also an unlikable prick."

  Kevin actually smiled. Darus had never seen him smile. "I have that problem sometimes, too."

  Weird. Bonding moment with the cop. "So, I take it you're here to keep an eye on the ladies."

  "Something like that."

  "Good." He glanced back toward the bar. Now Julia looked like she was arguing with Kate. "Look, I better go before Julia Laroque gathers a posse and lynches me."

  "Understood."

  "Keep the girls safe," he said as he started down the street.

  "I will."

  As much as he hated to admit it, he kinda liked the cop and was actually glad Angel had hooked up with him. Not only did she seem more like her old self, having Kevin McCoy around wasn't too bad. Had to be because he was Family.

  * * * *

  "Perhaps we should call it an evening as well," Angel suggested after a few seconds of awkward silence.

  Clare purposefully took a loud, slurping swig of liquor through her straw. "Julia is always getting riled up about something. Don't let her get to you."

  "She isn't wrong, though," Angel said. "About me, that is," she added quickly when Kate's face fell about two stories.

  "Do you think Darus only told Slade about me to get back into the bar?"

  "No," Angel said firmly. "I really don't."

  The two women looked like they were getting ready to go to a funeral. Leave it to Julia to suck the fun from the room. All because one man she happened to despise talked to them.

  "Look," Clare said. "You guys can take off if you want. I don't mind hanging by myself."

  "I'm not going to leave you here alone," Angel said. "We all go together."

  "Why?"

  And then Detective Hottie joined them at the table.

  "Is everything all right?" he asked. "Did Darus—?"

  Clare stared at Angel in disbelief. "Seriously? You had your cop boyfriend tail us? What, to act as a bodyguard or something?"

  "With everything that's been going on, I didn't feel comfortable…"

  "Oh, so Julia was right? Everyone does know I'm here because my boyfriend decided my face made a good punching bag."

  Angel looked positively ashamed. "I'm sorry, I—"

  "No, it's cool. I get it." She chugged the last of her drink in two swallows. Setting the empty glass on the table and rising from her stool, she said, "Okay, let's go."

  "I am sorry, Clare."

  "I'm not mad. I'm a little embarrassed, but I'm not mad. Besides…" She glanced at Kate who was focused on the table, her light blue eyes haunted. Whatever that guy Lohr did to her was way worse than what Chris had done. But it was also the last thing Clare intended to bring up. She turned to the detective. "It was a good idea. Thanks for keeping an eye on us."

  "Of course. Anytime."

  Chapter Six

  A few minutes later Darus walked into The Cell. As usual, the upstairs bar was packed with sweating, writhing bodies crammed on the dance floor. A couple girls in short skirts and thongs were grinding on each other in the cages. He gave them a dismissive glance as he made his way to the back bar.

  "You drinkin' tonight?" Bliss asked when he walked up to the bar. There were two bars upstairs. One was wide and open, and the other was tucked into a side room with plaster skulls covering the wall.

  He much preferred the catacombs bar. It was away from the chaos on the dance floor and closer to his final destination—the private room reserved for friends of the bar. The mirror adjacent to the dance floor was a two-way and gave a perfect view of the action. It was a great place to hook up with a Doll or simply relax. Tonight, he was only interested in the latter.

  "Yeah. Just give me a shot of Bombay."

  She gave him a look. "Seriously?"

  "I'm not in it for the experience. Chill it if you're that worried about it."

  She shrugged. "Not my taste buds." Bliss had been a waitress at Luxure before Armand fired her for getting high in the bathroom. Or so he had heard.

  As he set the empty shot glass on the bar edge, he felt a pair of hands slide up his back. He turned to see Rain, the Doll from the night before. The one without basketball tits.

  She wrapped her fingers around his suspenders and snaked up to him. "Ready for a repeat?"

  "Afraid I'm not sure where Locke is."

  "I don't want him." Her breasts were now pressed against his chest. "I want you."

  "I—"

  "Aren't you hungry? You can bite me. I think I'd really like that." She rolled her body against his. "In fact, I know I'd like it."

  He cleared his throat. "Rain, darlin', as much as I'd love to sink my teeth into you, I have an early meeting."

  Noon was sort of early. Giving her a gentle brush-off was a requirement. She wasn't a Doll he wanted to cull from his herd, but he wasn't into it tonight.

  "It doesn't have to take long. You can bite me, then I can suck your dick." She bit her lip as she once again snaked her body into his. "Maybe you can finger me, but I come fast."

  "As tempting as that is…" He caught a whiff of something and leaned closer to get a better scent. Well, that explained why she was grinding on him. "Are you on E?"

  "Maaaybe. Do you want some?"

  "I'm sorry, I'm on an ecstasy-free diet." He gently peeled her fingers from his suspenders. "Hey, let me get you a bottle of water."

  He repeated the order to Bliss, adding another shot of Bombay as well. He had every intention of making it an early evening, but needed to de-stress first. The run-in with Julia, and then the cop, had really gotten his blood pumping.

  After shooting the liquor, he turned back to Rain, who had her eyes closed and was weaving back and forth to something hard, angry, and German like it was a power ballad. He put the bottle into her hands and she opened her eyes.

  "Drink this," he told her. "And go dance. I'll catch up with you another night."

  "Are you sure?"

  Rain was a pretty typical Doll: young—maybe twenty-three, a little lost perhaps, and definitely insecure. He might be a prick, but he wasn't such an asshole he was going to shit on her feelings because he wasn't into her at the moment. After all, the night before she'd provided something he desperately needed. Like Angel repeatedly said, he should probably be grateful.

  "Yeah, I'm sure." He jutted his chin toward the crowded dance floor. "This song kicks ass, you know."

  "You're awesome," she said as she danced away.

  Minority opinion. Probably more influenced by the ecstasy than the truth.

  After paying his tab, he skipped the private lounge and headed for home. Even though she'd only been teasing, maybe Clare was right. Maybe he did spend a little too much time at the bars.

  * * * *

  Angel and Kate in tow, Detective McHottie insisted on walking Clare all the way to the front apartment entrance, like Chris was going to be waiting inside the courtyard walls or something. She was actually hoping they'd just drop her off at the gate, that way she could wait for them to leave before splitting the other direction.

  Unfortunately, it looked like she was going to have to go inside and face Julia's harangue. Something she was not looking forward to.

  As luck would have it, the apartment was empty. She felt like a defiant teenager when she immediately turned on her heel and headed back out the door. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but wasn't in the mood to be cooped up inside. After spending the last six months having Chris dictate her every move, she wasn't about to let fear or Julia do the same.

  She wondered where Darus had ended up, though she wasn't sure exactly how she should feel about him. He was fascinating—there was no doubt about that. And if she ignored his history, she liked him. A lot. She loved a guy with a quick tongue—in more ways than one. And with his looks and his clothing choices and his smart mout
h, he was pretty hot. Make that effing hot.

  Unlike Julia, she wasn't so quick to label him as a murdering, unforgivable psychopath. But if being knocked around by Chris had taught her anything it was she needed to be more selective of the men she hooked up with. She'd found Chris and his possessiveness fascinating at first, too.

  She crossed the courtyard, pausing at the gate opening onto Royal. There were two gates leading out: the one she was at, and the one opening into the tiny courtyard outside Luxure's front door. The latter was the one she'd entered through, and there was no way she was going that way since she'd surely be discovered.

  Just in case Detective McHottie had this gate staked out, she peered through the narrow slits in the wrought iron. The street looked empty.

  Satisfied the coast was clear, she pulled open the gate only to be yanked aside and roughly pushed against the courtyard wall. Her head slammed into the brick, inky black pain shooting down her neck. When she saw who'd accosted her, she was pretty sure she was going to choke on her heart as it lodged in her throat.

  "Did you really think you could run away from me?" Chris screamed, his mouth inches from her face. He reeked of liquor. "That I wouldn't figure out you came down here to whore it up with your sister?"

  This was her nightmare come to life. Running hadn't gotten her anything but a goose egg on the back of her head. If anything, it had only made him angrier.

  "You really are stupid," he added, spitting on her when he slurred the S in stupid. "A stupid, ugly, slut. I don't know why I even wasted my time coming here."

  Okay, that snapped her out of the shock rendering her immobile. She'd worked too hard getting away from him to let him paralyze her with fear.

  Knowing what she was about to do might prove him right on the "stupid" comment, she shoved him back with as much might as she could muster, wishing suddenly she had an ounce of Angel's freakish strength.

  "Obviously. Since I stayed with you. Get the fuck off me."

  He recoiled like he was going to hit her and then paused, swaying on his feet. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and she noticed they were damp. "What are you saying, Clare-bear?"

  Holy mood-swing...

  She had to end this, once and for all. She had to be strong. It was the only way she was going to be free. "I thought me packing up my shit and moving out said it all. We're done. We were done the moment your fist met my lip."

  "No, don't say that. Please. I'm sorry, baby. It won't happen again."

  When his empty promises only made her feel disgusted, she knew she was truly done with him. The tears wetting his cheek didn't pull at her heartstrings as they had in the past. He just seemed…pathetic.

  "I don't care," she said, and meant it. "I don't love you anymore. In fact, I kinda hate you right now. I know I hate these." She pulled up the sleeve covering the bruises that were now a gorgeous shade of puke yellow. "I hate this." She pointed to her lip. "And I know I'll hate whatever's going to show up here." She lifted the sleeve of the arm he'd grabbed when she walked through the gate. Red finger marks contrasted starkly against her pale skin. It was only a matter of time before they turned black. "You need to just leave."

  His expression had turned cold and she realized she might have pushed him too far. Maybe he'd only hit her the one time during their relationship, but he had hit her. Based on his reaction earlier he was obviously itching to do it again.

  "I have a cop friend just inside…"

  She might as well have said she had a puppy inside.

  "You think I wanted to hit you?" he screamed. "You pushed me to it! You're always pushing me." He took a step for her. Since her back was against the wall, she literally had nowhere to go. "With your smart-ass mouth and the way you're always flirting, wearing shit to make guys look at you… You gave me no choice! I didn't want to do it. I never wanted to hurt you. And then you run out on me? After everything I've done for you? I'm nothing without you Clare. I can't be without you. I won't."

  She suddenly had a fear she was going to make the morning news. Maybe she'd underestimated him. After all, she never thought he'd follow her to New Orleans.

  Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Two seconds of silence. That's all it would have taken for her not to say something stupid.

  "You know, I think I heard the lady ask you to leave."

  The heart that had been trapped in her throat was going to fall out of her gaping mouth. "Darus?" She only whispered his name, maybe even only mouthed it. Either way it was a mistake.

  "Is this your boyfriend?" Chris was back to being enraged. "I saw you flirting with him earlier. That is why you came down here, isn't it? It has nothing to do with me. You just want to fuck everything you can. You whoring slut!"

  His arm jerked back and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the blow, but the crack of skin against skin wasn't attached to any sort of pain.

  She opened her eyes and saw Darus standing between her and Chris, his head turned to one side, forced there no doubt by Chris' fist.

  "Get out of here," he said to her, and then, like a scene from a movie, he slowly righted his head. "Is that all you got? I didn't expect a big blockhead like you to hit like a little girl."

  Chris puffed up and tackled him. With a good fifty pounds on Darus, he hit him like a freight train. She scrambled out of the way as they barreled toward her. Darus grunted as his back slammed into the courtyard wall.

  Chris' fist pulled back and headed straight for Darus' face at about one hundred miles per hour. At the last minute he ducked and Chris' fist crashed into the brick.

  "Fuck!" Spit erupted from his mouth just as blood erupted from his knuckles.

  While Chris shook out his hand, Darus spun from his grasp, grabbing Chris' free arm and hitching it high behind his back. Shoving him into the wall, Darus said into his ear, "Maybe you want to get out of here. Maybe you want to turn into a real man and leave Clare alone."

  "Maybe you want to get your paws off me." Chris launched his head backward, hitting Darus squarely in the forehead. Releasing her stupid ex, he staggered back.

  "Chris, I'm calling the cops!" She pulled her phone out and waggled it back and forth to get his attention. Like a stick for a dog, she thought. "You can go to jail or you can get the hell out of here and not come back. Your choice." She hoped he retained enough mental capacity to not do anything stupid.

  He started for her and she began to dial. He paused.

  "You don't want to go to jail," Darus said, putting himself between her and Chris. Again. "Trust me. I just spent the last year there. Not a fun place to be." Somehow he'd managed to find a weapon—a broken piece of twisted pipe—and presented it threateningly. "And you don't want to stay here."

  Chris looked at the pipe and then at the phone in Clare's hand.

  "Should I press send?" she asked.

  He jabbed a finger at them. "This isn't over."

  "Sure it is," Darus said. "Get the fuck out of here."

  "You're going to regret this, Clare. You're going to regret leaving me."

  She was pretty sure the threat was empty. "Doubtful."

  After spitting on the ground, he turned and stumbled down the street, clutching his most likely broken hand. Once he'd disappeared around the corner, Darus turned to her. "Are you all right?"

  Suddenly, the adrenaline fueling her strength fled from her body. "I'm fine," she said, trying to steady her shaking legs. "What about you?"

  His hand on her shoulder stabilized her. He glanced the direction Chris had left. "You know, maybe you should go ahead and call the cops."

  "He's just drunk. I don't think he'd really hurt me." He tossed a doubtful look her way. "I'll file a restraining order tomorrow."

  "Sure you don't want to start that tonight?"

  "No. Not tonight." She knew her smile was weak. "Hey, I'm in for the evening. It'll be fine. Angel's cop boyfriend is in Luxure. I'll let him know."

  Concern covered his face and he didn't seem to be trying to disguise it. An
d there was nothing to be done to hide the damage caused by Chris' rage. His left eye and cheek were starting to swell and his forehead was dripping blood.

  "I'm usually the last person advocating police involvement," he said. "But I'd feel a lot better—"

  "I know Chris. Once he sobers up, he'll forget about it." Before he could get any more words out of his open mouth, she added, "You know, if we get some ice on your eye you might escape with a blue eye instead of a black one."

  He touched his fingers to the side of his face, grimacing when they brushed across the swollen socket. "I'll do it when I get home."

  "Why not do it now? Come on." The gate hadn't actually locked behind her and she was able to push it open without turning the knob. "Let's go upstairs." She didn't want him to leave, but she suddenly wanted to be inside where it was safe. She was half afraid if he left she'd have a nervous breakdown.

  He paused at the gate, glancing dubiously at the second story. "Armand would flip if he discovered I was in his house."

  "Don't worry, they aren't home. I was just in there. Plus, the lights are off." Her smile was stronger this time. "I'll protect you."

  "If you think Armand won't kick your ass to get to me you're delusional."

  "I'll take my chances." She took his hand and pulled until he took a few hesitant steps. "Please. I really want you to come up."

  He glanced again at the upstairs apartment. Sighing, he muttered, "Not the first foolish thing I've done."

  Once inside she directed him to one of the barstools tucked under the huge granite island separating the kitchen from the living room.

  "Sit tight," she said and headed for the stainless steel refrigerator. Stooping, she rummaged through the bottom freezer drawer. "There's got to be some peas or something in here. Ah," she pulled out a bag. "Oh. Edamame." She glanced at him. "That'll work right?"

  "Is it cold?"

  "I think so."

  "Bring it."

  She joined him at the bar and pressed the bag against the side of his face. He winced but didn't flinch. "You really know how to take a punch."