“Are you fucking kidding me?” she snarls, the darkness in her body an almost visible twist of energy around her pale body. “Who the fuck by?”
“Her date,” I snap back, my anger directed at this boy, this Jules. “I don't think he managed to get as far as he would've liked however.” My teeth feel like sandpaper, grinding against one another as I struggle to speak. The entire situation infuriates me. I am sick of seeing the light corrupted by the dark, the pure poisoned by the impure, the magic in this world decimated by people like Audra's father, my father, this fucking blonde kid in a green Taurus.
Audra sighs and finishes her wine.
“Well, you did the right thing then,” she tells me, her green eyes focused on the curtained windows that face Robbie's house. “Even though I'm a bit bummed we didn't get to try anymore tricks in your magic bag.”
“I can still cook you dinner,” I say, but the request doesn't sound all that inviting. Both of our gazes catch on the melted candles that line the dinner table. Audra doesn't need to speak to hear my answer. “Tomorrow then?”
“Call me tomorrow, Lucas. Let's talk.”
Audra starts to turn away.
“Not about being business partners,” I state bluntly. “If that's what you want to talk about, I have no reason to call.” My new redheaded friend simply laughs at me and disappears into my bedroom to collect her clothing. When she comes back out, she's fully dressed.
“I had a great time tonight. Really. I … ” Audra sighs and shakes her head like she's thought better of what she was about to say. When she moves up to me and presses a kiss to my lips, I let her. “Goodnight, Lucas.”
Audra disappears out the front door and lets it slam shut behind her.
I wait until I hear her car pull down the driveway before heading into my bedroom. Robbie is thoroughly out of it, but I force her to sit up and press the glass of water against her lips.
“Go away,” she groans, but I don't stop until she swallows a few mouthfuls and collapses back into the pillows. A quick search in my medicine cabinet reveals an unopened bottle of ibuprofen. I refill her water glass and drop a few of the pills next to it on the nightstand before closing the bedroom door behind me and heading into the living room.
I sit down in the brown leather wingback chair that faces the corner between the fireplace and the front window and lean my head against the back, eyes closed. For whatever reason, I'm exhausted. I suppose it's not easy to relearn one's ingrained behavior. My fingers tap a steady rhythm against the chair, a good background noise for my thoughts.
I sit there the rest of the night, until the sun comes up, and a frantic knock sounds at my door.
I try not to be frustrated when I rise to my feet and check out the peephole.
It's Robbie's fucking father.
A strange shiver of fear punctures my heart before I clamp down on it and get the emotion under control. Without hesitation, I open the door and face the early morning sunrise and the pale face of a terrified man.
“G-good morning,” Mr. Carrell stutters, running his fingers through his dark brown hair. It's the exact same shade as Robbie's. Behind him, a blonde woman I've always known as Robbie's mother, stretches her hands in front of her and rocks nervously back and forth. Now that I know the truth, I can see she looks a little like Robbie's younger sister and not at all like her elder daughter. “I know it's early, and I'm sorry, but I … God. Robbie's missing. She went out on a date last night, and when she didn't come back, I called the police. We found her boyfriend's car across the street, but he was passed out from alcohol poisoning.” Mr. Carrell spews this information into my face while I stand stone still and stare at him in the calmest, most passive manner I can manage. Fortunately, I can look like a statue when I want to. It's one of my very special skills. Like fucking. I try not to smirk. I am much, much better at fucking. “He's in the hospital right now, and he says he doesn't remember a thing.” Mr. Carrell swallows and glances back at his wife before returning his blue eyes back to mine. “He has a concussion as well. I mean … the car doors were locked, but his face is bruised, and it looks like he got into a fight. We believe Robbie might've been abducted from the car after Jules passed out.”
“Dear God,” I say, letting the anger and frustration from last night leak into my voice. I can only hope that if Robbie is awake, or wakes up during this encounter, that she won't say anything. It would look awfully horrific if she were to be found in my bed, passed out, while I stood here and lied about it. “I saw that car pull up last night when I was seeing my fiancée off.” Mr. Carrell's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and I can see how much he loves his daughter. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to let his worry simmer a little longer. As soon as Robbie wakes up, I'll send her home discreetly. For now, I have to make sure I don't get blamed for anything that didn't happen. If Robbie is found here, it will be assumed I've done terrible things to her, things that make me so sick to my stomach I can hardly breathe. Jules. I hope he dies in the hospital. “I didn't think anything of it when I saw it. There seemed to be two people in the car, but I had no idea one would be Robbie, out at that hour.” I don't particularly like playing on parental guilt, but I admit, there is some anger inside of me at Mr. Carrell for letting Robbie go out last night. It's ridiculous, but it's there and I can't help it.