“A little young, don't you think?” The fact that Audra's question echoes what's in my own head only serves to make me angrier. I snatch her by her upper arm and growl into her ear.
“What'll it take to get you to leave now?” She grins and turns into me, capturing my mouth with hers. I don't return the kiss, but I don't fight either. I have to let Robbie believe Audra is my fiancée or getting rid of her will be a hell of a lot harder than it already is. The fact that I actually don't want her to go is gnawing at me. If the beast had access to someone like Robbie, it'd only be a matter of time before I'd snap, before my claws would really start to show and either she'd get hurt or go running. Just like Isadora. And to be quite frank, Isadora was no virgin when I met her. Robbie makes the former Mrs. Lucas look like a fucking whore with a soul as black as tar.
“Make me dinner. Obviously you know how to cook.” I drag Audra out onto the porch and give her my darkest look, the one that says I'm not playing around anymore. She retaliates with a scowl, wrenching her arm from my grasp and getting up in my face – right where Robbie can see. I refuse to look back and capture her expression. I'm sure it would haunt me for years to come. “I just want to talk, Lucas. That's it. Give me a chance.” Audra's entire stance spells violence, but she softens her voice just enough that I'm able to give in without feeling like I'm losing this battle.
“Fine. I'll send you a text tomorrow. Don't bother contacting me again before then.” I pause as she turns away. Lucky for her, Audra keeps her expression neutral. If I'd seen even a hint of victory … We're too dangerous together, dragging around these demons. If she were a client, I could handle it, but as … friends? It isn't going to happen. I have no idea what she wants, but I may as well hear her out. If that's what it takes to get a few more moments of alone time with Robbie, I'll take it. I have to clean up the mess I just made, and I'd prefer not to have any spectators.
“Tomorrow,” Audra whispers, just loud enough for me to hear her. I wait until she's climbed into her car and pulled out of the driveway before I retreat back inside and close the front door behind me.
Robbie's nowhere to be seen, and I get another dose of that precious emotion. Fear. Did she run out the back door when I was talking to Audra? Should that even bother me if she did? I'm not particularly worried about her parents, about the security cameras … I can deal with any of that. I growl and shove both hands through my hair, noticing that the bathroom light is still on. I decide to drop my hands by my sides and wait to see if she'll come out. After only a few moments, Robbie appears dressed in her sweater and shorts. Her wet hair is back in a bun, her face beautifully devoid of makeup. I don't get to see women this raw, this perfect, very often. My throat tightens and I find it hard to breathe.
“Luke, you didn't use a condom,” Robbie says, surprising me with her frankness. When her blue eyes raise up and find mine, I take an unintentional step forward.
“I've had a vasectomy,” I say without bothering to explain. She nods her head for a moment and then nibbles at her lower lip. Before she can speak, I add, “And I've been tested recently. If it helps, I'll be going in again this week. I'd be happy to produce the results.” Robbie laughs, but it isn't the happy, carefree sound it should be. I'm already tainting her, drawing her down into the depths of hell with me.
“This wasn't about results, Luke,” Robbie says softly, moving back into the kitchen and reaching for the wine glass. When she finds that it's empty, she sets it down with a sigh. Glancing over her shoulder, Robbie tries to smile at me. “That's not your fiancée, is it?” I purse my lips, but I don't speak, not yet. If I let Robbie talk herself out, I'll get more information on how she's feeling. I cross my arms gently over my chest, pretending I don't even notice the throbbing erection in my slacks. “But you like her, don't you?”
“Audra Holiday is a pain in my ass,” I state and Robbie chuckles, grabbing the wine bottle from the counter. She stares at the red liquid for a moment before pouring herself another glass – this time using my wine glass. I notice she pointedly avoids looking at Audra's red lipstick stains on the other.
“She was helping you carry the body. I mean … I guess she would be since she was the one that brought it in here?” I struggle to keep my composure as Robbie sips the wine and sighs, glancing down at a small red splotch on the floor with a rising blush climbing up the back of her swan like neck. Blood, I imagine.
“Why are you so stuck on this corpse theory?” I ask, waving my arm around with a certain nonchalance that I don't feel. Part of me wants Robbie to know. The teenage boy that was suppressed long ago, buried in the dirt along with his murdered girlfriend, believes she might accept him, hopes and prays for it. The other part of me, the cynical part, knows she won't. Then again, maybe that's the ticket to all of this? Getting Robbie to run from me in fear.