“Luke,” Robbie says, grabbing her heels and letting them dangle from her fingers. When she smiles at me, I feel the disarmament beginning fresh again. That's a power few have ever had over me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. “I had a wonderful time, really.” She comes up to me, dark hair still damp in a few places. It's only then that I realize the shower is still running. Probably ice cold, too.
When her lips press up tight against mine, I find my arms around her waist, our bodies pressed close together. In the background, I hear something like damn from Audra Holiday. The taste of Robbie's mouth takes me all sorts of places, places that aren't here, that aren't filled with pain or darkness or loss. I know it's all an illusion, but it's a fucking beautiful one.
A sharp series of knocks sounds at the door. A man's voice barks something about a search warrant, but I barely hear him.
“This isn't goodbye,” Robbie says, but somehow I feel like it is. I let her go, her body trailing down my fingertips. Inside I get another sharp stab of fear, bright and hot, cutting across my heart. Fear. Robbie inspires fear because, why, I think – no, I know – that I'm going to lose her. That I could never really have her in the first place.
She disappears into the kitchen and a second later, I hear the soft swish of the back door.
“Hope there aren't any police back there,” Audra comments, but I'm beyond caring.
“Answer the door for me. Tell them I'm in the shower.” I try not to think about how much I'm going to owe Audra after this. Partner could be a very real term for our future relationship.
I hit the cold shower without so much as a gasp, letting the water run down my face and coat my heated body with a dose of reality. I am in big trouble. Big fucking trouble. Huge.
“Honey, the cops are here.” Audra pauses. “I told you so.” I smile at the sound of her voice. At least in this situation I don't have to wonder if the person opposite me is going to make a stupid fucking mistake. I can play a game, and Audra can play along.
With a frustrated sigh that's not entirely part of the act, I turn off the water and fling the curtain back. I snatch up a towel from the floor and tuck it around my waist, wrenching the bathroom door open with a frown.
“Mr. Carter.” It's Barry Craig again, the officer who looks all too happy to bust me for something. Fortunately for me, my house is beyond normal. The few threads of fetish gear that could and probably will be found can easily be explained as part of Audra's and my relationship.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” I ask, even as the officer presents a piece of paper. It could be a search warrant or a pornographic magazine, I don't give a shit. I refuse to look at it.
“Didn't count on those security cameras next door, did you, Carter?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Security cameras?” Hopefully Robbie knows where to hide in the back, how to get past them without being seen. I can only hope. As of now, there's nothing else I can do.
Barry Craig smirks and glances around at the other officers, scurrying around my place like ants.
“Saw you walk outside and come back with the girl in your arms. No doubt about it, Carter. You're in a bad spot right now. Why don't you tell us where to find Roberta Carrell and maybe then, we won't have to pry up your floorboards or put holes in your walls.” I make a noise of frustration and turn away, raking my fingers through my hair. Nobody but Audra sees the smirk on my face.
“I don't know where she is,” I say, looking over my shoulder to find Barry Craig moving aside to allow some other brass to move into the house. They stare at me for a moment before they're joined by two plainclothes detectives. Immediately all of their attention is drawn to some ruckus in the hallway and the presentation of my new carpeting, the paint, and the handcuffs that were previously used on Audra Holiday's wrists.
Evidence bags are brought out and the items catalogued.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I say, exchanging a glance with Audra. By this point, the entire house and yard have been swept, and it's become obvious that Robbie Carrell isn't here. “I was simply trying to help the girl out.” Audra wraps her fingers around my arm and bites at her lip in faux nervousness. “I heard her crying for help outside and found a blonde teenager passed out in the front seat of a car.”
All eyes turn to me and my story.
“Lucas Carter,” one of the officers says, but I cut him off.
“She was drunk out of her mind, so I brought her inside and Audra and I got her some water and ibuprofen. As soon as she woke up, and I thought she had slept most of the drunk off, Roberta left out the back door. I haven't seen her since.”
“And you chose to lie to the officers because?” one of the detectives asks. I hardly take any notice of him. It's not him I'm worried about. In fact, he looks downright bored out of his mind to be here. Barry Craig might just be a street cop, but there's a look in his eye that says he's the dangerous one.
“Teenager who drank too much, worried about how dad might react if he found out? I've been there, done that. I was just trying to help.” I sigh. “I had no idea it would turn into this.”
“So where's the girl?” Barry Craig asks before his superior holds up a hand.
“I have no idea,” I say, sounding perfectly and understandably exasperated. “I fell asleep after she left. Slept straight through until Audra here showed up. We have dinner plans.”
“Not anymore,” one of the officers coughs, and I glare at him with an outraged expression.
“Mr. Carter, you do understand that lying to an officer is a crime?” Audra sniffles and gets teary at the same time I sigh and slam the palm of my hand into my forehead. I do my best to look away and nod stiffly. The whole time I'm acting, playing this little cat and mouse game, the demon wants to scream, to howl, to smile. He wants to take the pocketknife and start cutting throats. Having Audra so close doesn't make things any easier. She'd probably help me do it.
The detectives sigh, and one of them moves up to me to take a statement. My house is catalogued, evidence carted away, and twenty minutes after most of the officers leave, Roberta Carrell is reported found.
“Tomorrow at six, huh?” Audra asks me over dinner. After all that, I decided the best way to continue to divert suspicion was to take my fiancée out on a date. Oh, and buy her a ring? Every so often, I catch Audra Holiday gazing at the diamonds with a look of plain awe on her face. Despite the fact that our union is as fake as Mrs. Braxton's breasts, she seems enamored with it. For me, all it does is stir up memories of Isadora and our failed marriage. I have her ring, actually, but I felt wrong giving that bit of sordid history out. The pain of those memories is mine and mine alone. So I spent several thousand dollars on a new one, just to keep up appearances. At this rate, I may have to go back to Mrs. Braxton for the money. “What do you think we should do about it?”
“We?” I ask, with both brows raised. My eyes catch on a bus boy whose gaze lingers for far too long on Miss Holiday's heaving breasts. I can feel the muscles around my mouth tightening.
“Yes, we. This is essentially my fault because of the whole,” Audra waves her fork around and then sticks a bite of filet mignon into her sumptuous mouth, “Mark thing. However, the one Clarice wants is you. Add these two things together, and this makes an us.” Audra pauses, reaching the fingers of her left hand out towards her wine glass. In some ways, she's ridiculously crude, but the way she clutches the stem, holds it to her lips, I can almost believe there's a bit of refinement straining to get out.
The bus boy moves closer to us, and I give him a dark look. Immediately he retreats and gets the most primal message that can be passed amongst males: mine. Not, of course, that I'm certain I even want Audra to be mine, but I won't tolerate lechery while I'm out on a date.
“Do you want to … take care of the bitch?” I laugh and the sound echoes around the restaurant. I so rarely pay a visit to places like this, but I feel comfortable. Perhaps I even like the idea of being on a date?
“Take care of her? She's married to a man who owns a billion dollar corporation. If something happens to the young, white, blonde Mrs. Braxton, the police will try a hell of a lot harder than they will for Mark.”
“So killing her is out of the question?” Audra asks, pausing and smiling politely when a waiter approaches and offers more wine. I order another bottle of the Quinta do Crasto Douro. It's not a very expensive vintage, but I've since learned that price doesn't always equate to perfection. In this particular case, the filet mignon's thick, buttery texture pairs well with the tannins found in this table red.
“Absolutely out,” I confirm, reaching out and grabbing Audra's pale hand. My thumb runs gently over her knuckles. To any onlookers, it might appear that I'm simply caressing my lover's hand. In all reality, I'm giving her a firm squeeze, letting the darkness and the anger that's swirling around inside my chest pass between us. Audra tears her hand away.
“Okay, I get it. So what are we going to do?”
“I haven't the faintest idea,” I admit, taking a sip of my wine and closing my eyes tight. By the time I arrive home, this whole Robbie fiasco should be on its way to working itself out. Of course, that doesn't solve the sexual and somewhat romantic complications that seem to be ensuing. I suppose I'll worry about Clarice's threat first, and that later.
“Why not just fuck her and be done with it?”
“I'm not a whore,” I state plainly and Audra sighs, poking at her steak with a fork. Mine would have been better, I think, examining the cook on the meat. Unfortunately, my private little sanctuary has been turned into a fucking circus. If worse comes to worst, I may have to move. “Besides, I don't enjoy being threatened. I have to put Mrs. Braxton in her place somehow or another.”
Audra thinks on this for a moment, tilting her head back to stare up at the tin tiles on the ceiling. They're painted a soft cream color, the perfect compliment to the rich harvest orange that borders the coved ceiling. In the center of it all, a chandelier hangs heavy and low, the bright lights reflecting off the crystals and casting tiny shadows on Audra's sculpted cheekbones. I want to bite them.
I tap my fingers on the tablecloth and smile wickedly. I don't expect Audra to come up with a solution or even to help me out at all. Yes, we have some things in common and the sex is fantastic, but what does that even mean? Does my connection with Robbie make the one I feel with Audra insignificant? Or is it vice versa? Or maybe having a connection with two girls at once negates them both?
“Last night,” Audra begins, lowering her head and looking across the table at me, “I didn't get the chance to really talk with you. I wanted to bring up some other options. I mean, besides me being your … business partner.” The waiter approaches again, interrupting, and takes away our plates, putting a dessert menu in their place atop the burgundy tablecloth.
“The answer is still no,” I say, finishing off my wine and pouring myself another glass. The waiter's supposed to take care of that service, but I don't want to wait. I need the alcohol to go straight to my head tonight. It's the only way I'm going to be able to make it through until morning.
“I figured as much,” Audra says with a sigh. Her green eyes travel to the left, over the railing near our table and down, to the dance floor where couples sway to the sweet sounds of live classical music. They dance in rhythm, as if this is all perfectly choreographed, performing movements that have been perfected over the centuries. “What about … partnering up for something else.” Audra clears her throat and runs her finger down the dessert menu, smiling as she peruses the contents. “Tiramisu, huh? I don't think I've ever had it.”
“It's delectable.”
Her eyes snap up to mine.
“You're buying?”
“I don't take a woman out on a date and expect her to pay. It's simply … barbaric.” I smile and sip my wine, leaning back into the chair. “Of course, I am a raging feminist, so if you insist, I'll allow you to chip in, but I'd prefer to pay.”
“You won't see any arguing on my end.” Audra sets her menu on the edge of the table. “Lucas, I've been thinking about Mark, about how you said you would've handled things differently. The question is, how? That's what I want to know.”
“You want to learn how to … kill people, and get away with it?” Audra shrugs and sighs, downing the rest of her wine and smiling tightly as the waiter steps up to the table and pours her more. He takes our dessert orders and retreats, reminding me why I like eating at home so much better. No interruptions.
“It soothes the screaming inside in a way nothing else can.”
“Except for sex,” I remind her, leaning forward and reaching out a hand. I think about asking her to be my client, but the words seem hollow and forced. Clients. I don't much feel like visiting any of my clients right now. Clarice is fucking insane, Margarite is a mouthy asshole, and Pamela … I don't think I could ever visit Pamela again knowing that she abandoned Audra. In fact, Pamela Tribbard could very well be the reason that Audra has demons in the first place. If she'd rescued her daughter, taken care of her the way a parent should, well, I suppose we'll never know, but I can take an educated guess.
Audra takes my hand, curls her fingers against my palm. Her engagement ring shimmers like the expensive cut that it is.
“How did this whole thing with Robbie get started, Lucas? She doesn't really seem like your type.” I stiffen and think about pulling away. Audra grips my hand tightly, forcing me to stay still or make a scene trying to extract my grip. I examine her makeup and try to think of the right answer, not just for her, but for myself.
“She's my next door neighbor,” I say, but the words ring hollow. My eyes shift off of Audra's face and travel around the restaurant, to the square tables with their thick red tablecloths, the squat glass vases filled with rose buds, and the white candles flickering softly. “And I don't know if I can answer your question. I'm not even sure if I know the answer myself.” I smile as I let my attention swing back to Audra. “As far as the first move, though, that was her.”
“Doesn't surprise me,” Audra says, stretching her arms above her head. Her little black dress turned quite a few heads when we walked in. Some from shock, others from unbridled desire. It's her usual style – cheap – but somehow it works on her. I know that I'm particularly captivated, and my cock couldn't agree more.
“Are you jealous?” I ask, not entirely certain why I even asked it in the first place.
“I don't know,” Audra says, smiling at the waiter as he places our desserts in front of us. “Should I be?” I grin back at her and pick up the small silver dessert fork. While Audra's ordered the tiramisu, I've gone for the 'death by chocolate' cake. It was the only thing that seemed appropriate.
I take a bite, trying my best not to be overly critical. Still, I think it could've been more moist.
“To be honest with you, Miss Holiday, I have no fucking idea.”
In the car on the way back, Audra brings up the subject of murder again.
“So, if we can't kill Clarice, maybe we could just … nullify her?”
I look down at the dashboard, realizing that I'm driving several miles below the speed limit. Yes, I like to obey the more simple traffic laws, but this is borderline geriatric, even for me. Perhaps my desire to head home is being dampened by today's events? My fingers tighten imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but I know Audra notices.
“Explain, please,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral as my foot presses the gas pedal towards the floor. Within a few minutes, I'm zooming around minivans and silver SUVS, pickup trucks, and semis. Audra doesn't speak until we hit the 42nd Street exit towards our respective houses. Her Mini Cooper is still parked in front of my house, so getting her home is a sure thing. The question remains now, what will I do with her when I get there? My cock thinks fucking sounds like a perfectly splendid idea, but it's essentially his fault that my life has been tossed up and shaken to the core. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think that maybe
it was more my heart that screwed things up, but the thought is so fairytale that all I end up doing is scowling. “Any day now would be nice.”
“Aw, and I thought you were getting so much better. You've been nice all evening and now here you go, fucking it all up. Say please, Lucas.”
I say nothing and as I'm pulling into the driveway, Audra sighs.
“You really are stubborn, you know that, right?” I try to smile, but the expression won't take. It could be because I'm starting to – maybe – feel things for Audra Holiday and Robbie Carrell that I shouldn't be feeling. Or it could be because Robbie's father is coming out the front door of his house to glare at me.
I turn off the ignition and lean towards Audra, wrapping my fingers in her ruby red hair.
“Play along with me,” I say and then, “please.”
Audra lets me kiss her full and ripe on the mouth, my tongue tangling with hers as Robbie's dad looks on and thinks, hopefully, there's a man who really loves his fiancée. Whatever he was planning on doing or saying, my bet here is that he may rethink it.
I let the demon get his way, sliding my hand up Audra's side and caressing her breast roughly, tearing the fabric down so that her bra is exposed. She doesn't help by moaning into my mouth and biting at my tongue with her perfect white little teeth. I shove the lingerie aside and pinch her nipple hard, twisting it and tugging it towards me until Audra gasps, her voice hoarse with desire, and leans back. As she covers her exposed breast with the palm of her hand, I look up and find that Mr. Carrell is gone.
Unfortunately, standing in the upstairs window looking down, there's Robbie.
“You wanted to know my plan, right?” Audra asks me over the phone. I roll over and look at the clock. It's noon. I don't normally sleep in this late, but yesterday drained my energy to a low I haven't felt in years. I'm tired. Tired and horny. And angry. My darkness hasn't gone away, just been pushed back. The devilish details of life have cornered him into a quiet spot inside of me, and he grows hungrier with each passing moment. I need to do something soon. Whether it's pay another visit to my clients, experiment with Audra, or … hunt down another monster, it has to happen soon.
Taboo Unchained Page 22
