Adieu to Destiny (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Book 4)

by Tracy Ellen

  As if fate was smiling at us for doing the right thing, we lucked out then and Jaz snagged a recently vacated parking spot. Walking to the entrance, we continued raising our spirits expounding on our charitable cause to help poor Chief Jack.

  Laughter has always been a good mood enhancer. I was almost feeling my usual sunny self for the first time in a few days. I loved my new hair, and refreshed from a shower, I no longer smelled like a walking urinal.

  Stella had presented her attendants today with gift jars of organic body butter that she’d made from her own secret recipes. My jar’s flavor was Whip Me Chocolate. I’d smoothed it on from top to bottom and now craved French Silk pie something fierce.

  Brisbane’s was a bar with a live rock band, so I dressed in my favorite tight jeans, T-shirt, and knee-high, badass black boots. They were decorated with square silver studs and a few silver chains that draped across the back above the tall heels. The chains swished from side to side when I walked.

  When I was choosing a shirt, I had been brooding over the realization that I hadn’t heard a peep from my Dark Prince in two days. Always a feminist, the sex kitten voice urged I wear a stretchy T-shirt with an indecently low neckline and a killer black demi-bra underneath that made the most of my assets. As the sex kitten voice sympathetically assured me, it was a pity Luke was lollygagging in Chicago because he was missing the view up north.

  Waiting at the short line at the door, Jazy whistled. “I just noticed your eyeliner! Hold still a sec and let me look.” My sister grabbed my chin and turned my head this way and that. The bouncer on duty, a big, muscular guy covered in tats, observed us with interest while he checked the IDs of the people ahead of us. “Your eyes look frickin’ sexy, Bel. Can you show me how you did that?”

  “Sure. It’s called the Cleopatra Tilt.” I murmured, “Mia Besosa taught me at our Wednesday meeting.”

  Jazy had me close my eyes. “So that’s what you and Mia were doing holed up in your office? Stella said it was a business meeting.”

  I smiled. “It was.”

  Jazy scoffed without heat, “Yeah, monkey business.”

  “Hey, don’t let my protégé hear you calling her a monkey.”

  “Or what? Is she going to pull her toy muff gun on me?” Jazy laughed, as the bouncer glanced over our licenses.

  The large man handed them back. “Do I need to frisk you ladies for weapons?” He flashed a grin of startling white teeth at Jazy.

  “Far be it from me to stop a man from doing his job,” Jazy grinned flirtatiously as she held out her arms and did a little pirouette, “but do I look like I have a weapon on my body?”

  “I’d say your body is a lethal weapon,” responded the man, raking Jazy’s slim shape with appreciation as we passed where he stood.

  “Woo hoo!” I snorted at the cheeseball line, but smiled to show I was giving him a hard time.

  My shy and introverted sister’s laughter could be heard over the blast of heavy rock music that poured out of the carved wooden door the bouncer held politely open.

  “Welcome to Brisbane’s, ladies,” he bowed his shaved head gravely, but his smile was bold when he addressed me next, “Oh, and Miss? Your friend here was correct when she said your eyes,” he raised his eyes slowly from the front of my unzipped leather jacket, “look sexy. I’m Garrett.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” I murmured doubtfully, already regretting the display of cleavage and I wasn’t even in the bar yet.

  Garret’s cocky grin didn’t dim.

  “Woo hoo!” Jazy snickered and nudged me from behind into the bar. While my sister pushed, I cursed, ‘You damn kitty! Why did you talk me into wearing a shirt that practically bares the girls? You know perfectly well how annoyed I get when men talk to my breasts, and even more ridiculous, expect a civil response from them!’

  ‘Zip up your jacket and leave it on. That shirt would make a hooker blush,’ the mean mommy voice sniffed.

  “Oh, get a life, Miss Prim and Proper!” I was already hot from wearing the coat and the body heat generated by a couple hundred bodies jammed into the bar wasn’t helping. I’d pass out if I left the coat on.

  “What did you say?” Jazy called out as we made our way out of the crowded entrance area, looking around curiously while we slipped off our jackets.

  “I said that Pam isn’t expecting us until ten.”

  Jazy dimpled at a cute guy with a curly, black beard who raised his beer bottle with a questioning offer. She shook her head no with a regretful smile, as she said to me, “Let’s go dance first then before we find them.”

  On one side of the huge building was a well-lit, open bar area packed with people at tables. The other side was huge, too, but darker. I could see the band on a stage at the far end and the dance floor was a solid mass of gyrating people. The heavy drum beat was already getting my blood going.

  Jazy leaned in near my ear, “Is Mia still meeting us here to go to James Byrd’s party?”

  I spoke over the loud music and noisy crowd, “Yes, around eleven.”

  Lying is not a personality trait to be proud of, but sometimes it was necessary.

  I had lied to my sister Kenna several times to protect Jazy’s rescue operation, and again when I said we weren’t going to James’ party. Anytime Kenna asked if I was going to be somewhere, it’s because she secretly hoped I wouldn’t be. In the past, she would get high or smashed regardless if I was present, but she had a better time if I wasn’t around to put a cramp in her style of uncontrolled behavior.

  After unexpectedly running into me on a remote country road when she’d been following a drunk, irate farmer threatening to do bad things, it wasn’t exactly normal, even for Kenna, that the first thing she wanted to ask was whether I was going to a party later on. I’d suspected there was a deeper connection to the events of the night when Kenna asked me that question. Now I knew my ex-cousin probably told Kenna she wouldn’t go to the party with her if I was going to be there.

  When the band started playing the opening notes to Nickelback’s “Burn it to the Ground”, I grabbed Jazy’s arm and she grinned. Jazy and I had left our purses locked in the trunk of her car. We left our jackets under the agreeable, watchful eye of the curly black beard guy.

  We wound our way through people to the middle of the dance floor. In no time, we were dancing with some guys that joined us. The band was great and the lead singer’s voice was awesome. One song led to another, and we kept dancing. Jazy was sharing beers with one of our dancing buddies, but I waved off the drink another man offered me, content to lose myself moving to the music.

  Next thing I knew, Pam was next to me. Laughing, I bumped her hip with mine. She smiled and started dancing, but also kept trying to say something. I finally shrugged in defeat; the music was too loud even though she was yelling near my ear. The song finished and the band announced they were taking a short break. Jazy went off to get drinks while I looked around us.

  “Hi Pammie! Where’s John?”

  “He’s in there.” She motioned with her head towards the other room in the bar. In an accusing tone but smiling, she said, “I knew I’d find you in here dancing. I wanted to find you before he did, but I was too late.” Pam’s smile was wide, but looked a bit frayed around the edges. That was the same look that had bothered me when I saw her at the dinner party at my apartment on Wednesday night, and again this afternoon at Stella’s bridal shower. “You should have seen his face when he saw you dancing. Nice shirt, by the way. You have sumptuous tits. I’d be jealous, but unlike some gay fucker we shall not mention, Joe loves my little boobies.” She waggled a finger. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to tell you for days. Good God, why don’t you answer your phone? I’ve been calling you all night.”

  “I’m sorry, but my battery died and I didn’t recharge it until a while ago.” I looked her over, noting the glazed eyes and rosy cheeks, although the fast talk was normal. I teased, “Have you been drinking chocolate cocktails again, Pammie?”

  She
giggled. “No siree, it’s nothing but straight vanilla tonight. John has me drinking something called,” she lowered her voice and wiggled her brows, “an Anal Sex.” She counted on her fingers. “It has liquor, peach stuff, more liquor, and vanilla ice cream.” Exuberantly, Pam threw out her arms with a goofy grin. “Anal Sex tastes grrrreat!”

  A few appraising male heads turned her way at that, and I laughed. “Okay, Tony the Tiger. Be careful he only has you drinking an Anal Sex or there will be nothing straight vanilla about your night.”

  Pam guffawed and then whispered confidingly, “Joe says my ass is like a ripe, juicy peach.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t want to go there, Pammie, my love.” I frowned. “I’m a little confused here. Why would John-Joe have a face when he saw me dancing? I’m not that late meeting you guys, am I?”

  Pam rested her pointed chin on my shoulder and smiled. “Mmm, you smell like chocolate pudding. Oh, it wasn’t Joe’s face,” she thumbed vaguely backwards, “Luke is over there, too.”

  “Luke is over there, too,” I repeated slowly, the lump on my forehead started to throb.

  “Yeppers. He’s here with a group from DDL.”

  “Luke is over on the other side of that wall?” I repeated to be clear. “And he had a face when he watched me dance?”

  Pam snorted. “Oh, I’ll say he did.”

  My friend was great at improv, so I asked, “What kind of face?”

  “Like this.” Without hesitation, Pam stood straight and crossed her arms. She stared fixedly at my breasts and then slowly raised her eyes. Her eyebrows met in a fierce frown and it was incredible how she was able to mimic Luke’s cruel mouth when hers was femininely small and rather thin-lipped.

  ‘Guess that shirt wasn’t such a stupid idea after all,’ purred the sex kitten.

  I clapped in delight. “Girl, your talents are wasted flying Delta. You should be on the stage.”

  “Funny you should say that. Joe wants to make a movie…”

  I covered my ears. “Stop, I beg you!” I brought my hands down and bit my lip. “You said Luke’s here with a group from DDL?”

  Pam stopped giggling and nodded. Her face went serious and tough, voice clipped. “There’s Dan White.” Her expression changed to timidly furtive and she whispered, “His wife, Emma.” She smiled broadly, holding her stomach--the picture of jovial fun. “Hello, I’m Daniel, Daniel Boynton, at your service.” She wiggled her shoulders and used both hands to sweep her hair back while her eyes widened innocently. For a second, I thought she got mixed up and was mimicking me, but then she drawled, “And his girlfriend, Priscilla--I’m from Texas and we just love ya’ll--Powers.”

  In spite of my growing confusion why Luke was back in town without contacting me, and had brought his partners and their partners, I laughed at Pam’s uncanny ability to capture the true essence of a person’s personality in her quick sketches.

  “Well, lead the way. I’ll watch for Jazy, so she knows where we’re sitting.”

  Pam held my arm. “Uh, wait a sec, Bel.” She blew out a breath that sent her bangs flying. “We all know you and Luke aren’t getting married, but you’re still seeing each other, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  Pam’s hand had started twirling length of her hair in agitation. “I don’t know how to say this, especially when I’ve been drinkin’, but have you ever seen Luke smashed?”

  I crossed my arms and stared at Pam. “No.”

  She muttered softly, “Neither had Joe.”

  “Just spit it out. What’s going on?” I said it quietly, but there was no denying my voice had gone hard and Pam jerked a little in surprise at my tone. “You’ve been acting a little strange since Wednesday night. Why?”

  “When Joe and I went down to Chicago on Tuesday afternoon, we met all these people for dinner that night. Good God, I didn’t want to say anything because Luke has been so wonderful after he…you know, destroyed my reputation.” I shook my head, but had to smile. Pam hurried on, “I really like Luke now, but he was drinking that night...a lot.” She huffed and nodded emphatically. “Joe seemed really surprised, so it wasn’t just me. Priscilla was pounding them back, too. Uh, she and Luke seemed to have…fun together.”

  Pam stayed with Carter for years when he’d paid her little attention. She was not the jealous type. Luke’s actions had caused Pam to fret for days. On the other hand, Pam had stayed with Carter for years, allowed her husband to treat her like crap and didn’t suspect what was right in front of her face. I would wait to form my own opinion on what shenanigans my Dark Prince was pulling, if any.

  But that didn’t mean a girl shouldn’t get all the tiny details she could, so I asked, “What else bugged you?”

  Pam threw up her hands again, but this time not happily. “I hate tattling like this, but dammit, Bel, he was talking trash when he was drinking, too.”

  “Luke was talking trash?” I repeated, incredulous at the concept.

  Pam nodded, miserable.

  “You mean about me?”

  Pam hung her head, and nodded slightly a second time. “He told them you didn’t want to have his kids because you were scared.”

  “What!” I exclaimed in disbelief, immediately thinking of my nightmare. Trying to understand, I muttered, “Why would he do that?”

  Pam looked around, as if desperate for another drink. I could use a drink now, too.

  “It wasn’t totally wandom…I mean, random.” Pam covered her mouth, burped, and laughed. “Whoops, ‘scuse me! Those Anal Sexes are making me burp like crazy. Remember Emma--Dan’s wife?” She reenacted the timid, anxious face and I nodded quickly. “That woman is a freak about babies. It’s kind of sad because she’s been trying to get pregnant for like ten years or something. I like kids, but Emma goes on and on. Priscilla says she wants a passel of babies, too.” Pam rolled her eyes. “Then they asked Luke all about you,” Pam’s eyes grew big, “and before you know it, Luke was blabbing all sorts of stuff you’d said about not wanting kids. Everyone was getting upset for his sake, telling him he deserved children of his own, and that he shouldn’t settle for anything less.” Pam shook her head at the memory. “They were trying to be supportive of Luke, but they don’t know you. It made me mad, Bel, but the men are Joe’s bosses, so I didn’t want to get him in trouble by smacking any of them.”

  “No, you shouldn’t smack John’s bosses on my account, but thanks for the thought, Pam,” I responded, still a little shell-shocked over the image of Luke drunk and talking about our private business in public while his friends shouted, “Off with her head!”.

  “I’m sorry, Bel, but I’m glad I told you. You’re my friend and I love you.” Pam rested her chin on my shoulder again and whispered, “You really, really smell like chocolate.”

  I patted Pam’s warm cheek. “Here comes Jazy. Are you sure you want to mix Anal Sex and beer?”

  “Sure I’m sure!” Pam sighed and said, “Oh that reminds me. Luke’s drinking again tonight. Joe said he’s been drinking since they got to the farm from Chicago this afternoon.”

  I quietly murmured my thanks for that tidbit, but in my head I was reeling. If it weren’t for what Pam had said already, I’d be looking forward to witnessing a drinking Luke Drake. I was still fascinated by the idea, but also apprehensive. My phone hadn’t died until evening and Luke hadn’t called to let me know he was home.

  I had another thought. “You said Luke was watching me dance. Did he know I was meeting you here tonight?”

  Pam immediately shook her head. “Nope.” She admitted with a wide grin, “I’m not used to being part of a couple that actually shares. I forgot to tell Joe we were meeting you and Jazy until a few minutes ago. That’s when Dan cheered Luke on to go find you and get it over with,” added Pam cryptically, but then she turned and smiled broadly at my sister holding three bottles in her hands. “There she is! Thanks, Jazy.”

  Jazy passed a beer to Pam and a hard cider to me.

  Nodding my
thanks, I frowned. “Geez, what did this Dan mean by that comment?”

  Pam took a big slug from her bottle of beer, wiping off her mouth with her forearm. “Beats the heck out of me. That’s why I ran out here to find you.” She smiled and patted my arm. “I thought if anybody could figure out what’s going on, you could, Bel.”

  Jazy looked from me to Pam. “Did I miss something good?”

  Pam opened her mouth, but I quickly intervened, “Luke’s here with his partners from Chicago. Let’s go meet them.”

  “Only for a minute,” Jazy agreed, as we walked slowly through the throng of people to the bar. “I want to dance some more before we leave for the party. This band is awesome. Did you notice the lead singer’s hair?”

  “I did,” Pam enthused. “I could be a groupie. Long blonde hair on men gets me so hot.”

  I snorted into my bottle, enjoying my private moment of levity picturing John Smith’s expression when he opened my Christmas gift of a rock star wig.

  “Speaking of long hair and men I’d screw in a heartbeat if I wasn’t in love with my Joe; is it true what I heard about James Byrd’s parties?”

  Pam had met James at my apartment the other night. When we were alone, she had gushed that he was so spectacular, she’d wet her pants and she wasn’t talking pee.

  Now Pammie put her free hand on her midriff and did a fast gyrate, sloshing her full beer in the process. “Do men get wild and dance nakie?”

  I tried to see ahead to spot Luke and his friends while Jazy chuckled at Pam’s antics, but being a shorty in a standing crowd has its disadvantages, even wearing four inch heels.

  Vaguely disturbed, I wondered if dancing naked men were some new party craze I’d never heard of until tonight. Dancing naked men, wild and unfettered, created images in my mind of a horde of barbarians waving their unsheathed swords at the gate.

  My sister answered mysteriously, “You’ll see soon enough.”

  Meeting Pam’s wide eyes, I mentally added getting accidentally impaled to the growing list of reasons a short girl could never be too careful on a packed dance floor.