by Vivi Dumas
“What do you want to do for the rest of the night?” he whispered against her ear.
Angel gathered the sheet around her and leaned forward, allowing her hair to fall into her face. “I’ve got a lot to do to prepare for the meeting. I also have to finish the books. I’ve been trying to keep track how much money is being spent. I need to make sure I pay people back some day.”
“Who do you have to pay?”
“Laurent and Etienne have been bankrolling the operations. I got a little money put away. Nothing close to what this thing is costing. Who knew supernatural alliances would cost so much?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay them back.”
She shot him a murderous glare. First, he pities me and now he makes me feel like a whore. This is going downhill fast. “The hell you will! I don’t want to owe you money.”
“Why would you owe me money?”
“I’ve got you in enough trouble. I can’t accept your money. I can just imagine what your mother would think.” She cringed at the thought of his mother’s reaction.
“Angel, you’re talking crazy. Why wouldn’t I help you?” He sat up, facing her, as she turned her back to him.
“I appreciate your offer. I don’t want to owe you either. You’re not obligated to me. It’s not like we’re married or anything. Hell, technically, we’re not even dating.” She shot him a smug look over her shoulder, cringing at the anger contorting his face.
His nose flared and a flash of crimson caught in his eyes as he flung his legs over the edge of the bed. “What’re you trying to say?”
“I don’t know. Shit’s all messed up right now. I don’t need to worry about a relationship, too.” She focused her attention back to the wall across the room.
“Then what was the sex about? You usually fuck people you don’t want a relationship with?”
“I just got caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have slept with you.” She thumbed the bottom of the scar, just above her chin.
“Angel. You’re making me crazy. One minute you save my life and we’re making love, the next you tell me you can’t focus on a relationship. What the fuck?”
She felt his eyes burn holes in her back. She refused to look at him. If she saw his face, dove into the depths of those emerald pools, her conviction would fade. “I think it’ll be best if we just be friends right now. There’s more important things to worry about than hashing out a love affair. I can’t juggle all of this.”
He turned her around, forcing her to face him; his expression filled with rage. “Fine. Remember this conversation next time you change your mind. Or when you want someone to sex you up, don’t knock on my door. I don’t have time to play these games with you.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare knock on your door. And if I need someone to fuck, there are plenty of other options,” she lied. Anger drew a tear to the corner of her eye.
“This is exactly why I stay away from humans! You’re all fuckin’ nuts.” He pulled on his jeans and threw his shirt over his shoulder. Storming out the room, he slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jacque’s feet punished the stairs on his way down. Fury boiled in his blood like volcanic magma. She was driving him mad, probably on purpose. He slammed his fist into the mirror-covered wall, hearing then feeling the shattering glass. Maybe I can’t save her. She might be beyond my help.
The pain she harbored must be great to inflict this kind of misery on herself. He sensed her conflict when she told him she didn’t want a relationship. She sacrificed herself for him. Love wasn’t an emotion he easily identified. However, he and Angel shared a strong connection. Yet whenever he drew near, she pushed him away.
By the time Jacque reached the kitchen, his hand had healed. He poured a glass of vodka, downed it, and poured another, debating his next move. Should he go back upstairs and try to force Angel to understand they belonged together, shake her until she gave into him? As attractive as it sounded, the prior argument drained him. He had no more fight left today.
A collection of keys hanging by the door caught his attention until a voice behind him made him jump.
“Are you trying to move the keys telepathically?” Marie took a seat at the small kitchen island. Faith sat next to her. Both women glared at him as if he committed a crime.
“Look. I didn’t do anything. She broke up with me, or rather explained we were never dating in the first place.” He poured another drink. He needed more encouragement if he had to defend himself to these two women.
“We know she’s pushing you away. She’s scared. A lot of people have hurt her.” Faith’s light brown eyes glistened with sadness. Jacque sensed she cared deeply for Angel. “I’ve tried to protect her. It hasn’t been enough. Our mother has a way of seeping under Angel’s skin and poisoning her thoughts.”
His heart weighed heavy as he pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how to help her,” a broken voice he recognized as his own replied.
Marie shook her head. “Mon pauvre bébé. She’s really done a number on your heart. Who knew demons could love?”
“I’m not sure if it’s love. All I know is I would die a thousand times to take this pain from her.” His stare gripped hers, sharing his turmoil.
“That, mon cher, is love,” Marie explained.
“Don’t worry. She loves you, too,” Faith added.
“How do you know? I feel like a ping-pong ball. One minute she’s loving me, the next she’s telling me to go to hell.”
“Women. What did you expect? If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have foregone the one thing she felt was most precious to her.” Faith shared a faint smile. “She gave up everything she felt was important to get you back, not knowing whether you would even want her. Her sacrifice is the epitome of love.”
“Why is she giving it all up now?” he blurted, pounding a fist into the granite, shaking the island.
“Fear does strange things to people.” Marie poured a small swallow of gin into a glass and sipped it, as only a lady would do. “You must stay strong for the both of you.”
Both the women stood, sharing a loving glance at him. They each ran a hand along his arm in support or in sympathy, Jacque wasn’t sure which. Once they left the kitchen, he grabbed the keys to the car. Escape was first and foremost on his mind right now. He needed something to take his thoughts away from Angel. Boy’s night out, time to find Laurent.
Jacque studied the cars in the garage. Automobiles changed drastically since the last time he was Topside. It couldn’t be too different though. The last car he drove was a 1930 Ford Model A. This one, sitting shiny and red, was called a Carrera. A shield sporting a horse and the words Porsche was inlayed into the hood. He liked the style.
Inside, he inhaled the aroma of leather, adjusted the seat as far back as it would go, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred very different from the sputtering of the Model A. He evaluated the various levers and pedals. They all seemed familiar. He had watched Laurent as they rode around town before his unfortunate demise. He followed the H, shifted the stick into the top slot on the far left, and hit the gas. It jerked and stalled. This was going to be harder than it looked.
The ride to Laurent’s was a rough one. After several stall outs and a few people giving him the finger, he made it to St. Charles Avenue. He knew the middle finger wasn’t a gesture of pleasantries. With all his blunders, he could understand the others’ frustration with his lack of driving skills. Putting the car in neutral, Jacque yanked up the parking brake. He needed more practice before going back into traffic.
Laurent answered the door on the third ring.
“What the hell you doin’ here?” He peeked around the door to see if anyone else was with Jacque. “How the fuck you get here?”
“Um. I drove.” I guess my subpar performance constitutes driving.
“Drove what man? You haven’t driven since they invented cars.”
“You’
re hilarious. I drove Angel’s car.”
Laurent stepped out of the house as if looking for someone to jump from behind the bushes. “You could’ve killed someone. Where the hell is Ang, anyway?”
Jacque kicked the front step, leaving a mark on the white paint. “Long story.”
“You fucked up already? I only left you a couple of hours ago.”
“Like I said, long story. One I don’t feel like discussing right now.”
Opening the door, Laurent waved him in. “All right. You wanna come in or we gonna stand out here all night?”
“Let’s go out. I need a drink and feel like having some fun. It’s been a while since I’ve been up top. Show your boy where the fun is.” He slapped Laurent on the back.
“Look, man. You gotta stop hitting me,” Laurent mumbled, rubbing his arm. “What kind of fun you talkin’? This is New Orleans. You can spit and hit fun.”
“Let go to this Utopia place.”
“You sure you wanna go there without Ang?”
“Angel has decided not to be in a relationship. And tonight I have, too. Get your shit and let’s go. You’re driving.” The fact Angel refused him ate at Jacque, yet he hid this weakness in front of Laurent. He was a demon, and they didn’t pine away at a loss of a female.
“No shit! Think I want to ride with someone whose last ride was a Model T?”
“It was a Model A,” he called as Laurent disappeared into the house.
***
Across the street, a long spiral line formed to get into the club. Jacque was impressed by the business the club seemed to draw. Laurent went to the front of the line chatting with the bouncer. After a few words, the velvet rope came down to the jeering comments of a few farther down the line. Laurent always had a hook-up.
The club pumped with music and people. Nothing like this existed in the Underworld and definitely not the last time he was Topside. The human world had become a freer, less inhibited place. The scene was something straight out of a music video, something he watched on BET; the excitement of music and the mob invigorated him. Very different from the formal balls from his last time on Earth. The women’s choice of clothing in this era, or lack thereof, had an alluring effect on him, except when Angel wore it. He wanted to keep her hidden for his eyes only.
He and Laurent leant against the bar and ordered two Grey Goose on the rocks. Jacque gulped his drink and turned to watch the crowd. Scantily clad women gyrated to the beat of the music. A few noticed him watching and added to the sensuality of their movements, not afraid to show their interest. Love this place. No wonder Luc is bored. This world is a throwback to Sodom and Gomorra.
With an empty glass staring him in the face, Jacque ordered another one.
“Hey, man. You better slow down. I’m not carrying you outta here,” Laurent said, eyeing the pretty blonde vamp in the corner.
“Hopefully, I won’t be leaving with you.” Jacque tipped his glass in the direction of the dark-skinned Fae giving him the dance show.
“Don’t do anything stupid you can’t take back. I know you love Ang.”
“Whatever. I’m tired of playing her games. I’m tired of dealing with females, period. It’s time for Jacque to have a little fun for a change.” Am I really referring to myself in third person? Yes, I am. What the hell is in this vodka?
“Okay. Do as you like. Don’t come crying to me when you sober up and realize you’re a dumbass.”
Jacque downed the second drink and motioned for another. “You just worry about you. I’ll take care of Jacque.” Again with the third person. Shit.
“I’m going to see if I can round up some company for myself. You’re on your own, playa.” Laurent slid down the bar towards his prey.
***
Angel lay across the bed, weighing her actions. Had she made a mistake pushing Jacque away? The hurt in his eyes tore at her reasoning. No. She did what was best for both of them. Now she had to do what was best for Angel.
It was time to stop hiding out, ashamed of her appearance. Her face was a tad bit distracting, but the rest of her was intact. A supermodel knew how to accentuate her assets and Angel knew how to work it. Guys never looked at her face when she had the “gurlz” on display.
She jumped out of bed and headed downstairs. Her grandmother and Faith sat in the living room drinking. The scene was almost comical. Angel hopped over the back of the couch and slid down between the two women.
She kissed them both, asking, “What are my two favorite ladies doing? Hanging out on a Saturday night?”
“Just having a cocktail and catching up,” Faith answered.
Angel started to stand. “Sounds like fun. I’ll get a glass and join you.”
Marie pulled her back down. “Non, you are too young to stay here. I would make Faith go, except she’s not ready yet. You should be out in the streets enjoying your youth.”
Angel pouted like a child, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Yeah. But I don’t have anyone to go out with.”
“What about your friends you used to talk to before you went to New York? Jasmine and Natasha still ask about you. Why don’t you call them?” Faith reached over, handing Angel the phone.
“I haven’t spoken to them in almost a year.”
“Just try.”
A smile danced on Angel’s lips. “I’ll call. If they bail, then I can sit and get drunk with y’all, right?”
“Ladies do not get drunk,” Marie snickered.
Angel searched through her contacts, finding the girls’ number, and made the calls. She was pleasantly surprised when the both girls agreed to go out. They even sounded excited to hear from her. They agreed to meet at her house in an hour.
Thrilled to see her childhood friends, the welcome entailed a lot of hugging, kissing, and screaming. They were in high school all over again. All four years the group was inseparable. Then came modeling and Jackson took her away from them. She cherished the fact neither girl acted as if anything was different about her. They saw Angel and not her scars.
“Miss I’m-hiding-out-for-a-year, where are we headed?” Jasmine asked.
Angel glanced from Jazzy to Nat. “I don’t know? Where y’all wanna go?”
“Somewhere different. I’m tired of the some ol’ thing all the time,” Nat whined.
Angel questioned her choice before she offered it up. She shouldn’t get her human friends involved in her supernatural world. Other humans went to Utopia and nothing happened to them. The Supe clubs weren’t much different than any other she’d been to. “Hey, I know a place. It’s hot. You’ll have fun.”
“Okay,” they answered in unison.
They took Jazzy’s car to Utopia. Angel was surprised to find her car missing when they went to the garage, even though they wouldn’t have fit in it anyway. Jacque must’ve borrowed her car. He better take care of it. It was the hottest car she ever drove; she loved it, almost as much as her shoes.
She beamed as she thought about Jacque. She already regretted her decision to push him away. Perhaps she’d talk to him in the morning and apologize. He’ll probably bunk at Laurent’s for the night. She didn’t blame him. She had been an ass tonight.
They parked on Bourbon, a block down Conti. Angel thought back to the last time she was on this street, again she wore unpractical shoes. She was going to pay for it at the end of the night. Tonight she had no one to carry her to the car.
Angel pouted and folded her arms across her chest when she saw the size of the line. Her friends frowned, too. As she was about to suggest going somewhere else, Angel spotted Etienne coming up the block.
She waved to get his attention. “Hey, Etienne!”
His smile radiated in the darkness. “Bonsoir, my Angel. You’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thanks, can you get us in?” she requested, giving him her puppy dog eyes.
Etienne admired her friend, winning disapproval from his entourage. “How could I not escort such beautiful women? Who are your friends?”
“This is Jasmine and Natasha. My very best friends.” She nodded to each girl. “Girls, this is Etienne, a new friend.”
“Nice to meet you both. Hopefully, you all will save a dance for me tonight.”
Angel gazed at him, sweet and teasingly. “Of course.”
“Where’s Jac?”
“I couldn’t tell you and couldn’t care less,” she lied.
“Are you still seeing that asshole?” Jasmine interrupted.
Angel followed Etienne to the front of the line. “Not Jackson. Another asshole.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The club was jumping. The girls huddled close together to weave through the crowd. Etienne invited them to sit at his table in the VIP section at the far end of the club. Once they got to the table, the runway-model-thin waitress took their order. She narrowed her dark brown eyes as she studied Angel and her friends. It made Angel second guess bringing them to a Supe club.
Jasmine’s grey eyes sparkled with excitement. Her shiny black spiral curls bounced as she bobbed to the music. Natasha scanned the crowd smiling each time she caught a glimpse of a hot guy, which was often.
Jazzy pointed to the dance floor. “Now, he’s fine! Shit. He looks to be taken.”
It only took one glance for Angel to identify the hottie Jazzy pointed out. Jacque was in the middle of the dance floor with some frail girl, who looked as if she might pass out from hunger, rubbing her body all over him. Rage burned inside of Angel’s chest as she watched the two slither to the music, teasing and toying with one another.
