My entire body goes stiff at his words, memories assaulting me like pellets, bleeding me dry onto the floor of my perfectly normal little suburban house, the same type of house I'd have probably owned if I'd married Aliyah, if we'd had kids, if I'd worked a nine to five. Would I have been happy like that? I don't know. There's absolutely no way for me to know because now I'm twisted, and there is no coming undone, not entirely. As much as I wish I were a teenager again, that I could somehow go back, that I could taste a snippet of what that life might've been like with Robbie, it's all a delusion. None of it is real. None of it.
“Find someone my own age? Like Jules? Somebody who doesn't care about anything but themselves, who kisses like a Saint Bernard? I'm not just looking to fall in love, Dad. I'm not just experimenting. I don't know why everybody has such a hard time understanding this. I. Just. Like. Luke.”
My heart speeds up so fast I feel dizzy, my cock hurts, my demons are screaming. Before Robbie can make whatever decision she's planning on making, I move over to the door, and I slam it shut.
The Wild Tuna was previously famous for its special hemp T-shirts (handmade locally, of course), chia seed cakes, and vegan chocolate chip cookies. Nowadays it's known for girls, girls, girls, as the sign out front proclaims. Never having been a fan of hemp clothing or chia seeds, I hadn't noticed the decline of the grocery store. Admittedly the name seems to fit the establishment much better now.
I frown at the scent of cigarette smoke that clings to the air here alongside desperation and heartache. This place is twice as pathetic as the one Mark was frequenting on the day he died, and ten times as packed. I lift my face up to the night sky and wonder how the stars, in their infinite beauty, can bother to be seen around such a place.
“Hi Lucas.” The wheedling voice behind me doesn't draw my attention. I let Mrs. Braxton know how little she means to me by standing stone still as she walks up to me and puts her mouth on my throat. Once she's finished sucking at me, with no discernible reaction, she starts to get huffy and I finally glance over at her.
“You're late.”
“Only by twenty minutes,” she whines, as I look over her outfit. Same bleach blonde hair, terrible orange tan, and watery blue eyes. Same cheap orange dress with sparkles and white high heels, in patent leather. Clarice looks like she works here, not as the exclusive whore for some middle-aged white guy with a billion bucks in the bank. “Why did I have to park so far away, anyhow? I hate walking in heels.” I ignore the simpering and the idiocy and glance around for Audra Holiday. Clarice doesn't know she's here, but then, that doesn't really matter. She's here now, and I know she won't leave, not until she's had a taste of me. Unfortunately for her, that's not coming, but she doesn't need to know that.
I spot Audra standing near the door in another black dress, one that's even shorter than the last – if that's even possible. Men swarm around her, but she doesn't look worried. Instead, she catches me staring and smiles, holding up a beer in salute.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Clarice asks, grappling onto my arm like some sort of undersea creature, a trophy wife crab with claws clinging to me in desperation. “This is supposed to be us, Lucas. I didn't invite her.”
“You'll invite whoever I say you'll invite, Clarice, and you'll do whatever I ask. That's how it's always been, and that's how it's going to remain, despite the fact that you're blackmailing me. I am still in charge here.” I grab her roughly around the waist and put my mouth close to her ear. “You like blood, don't you, Clarice? And pain? You like to quiet the darkness, for just a moment, even a second. No matter what you have to do, it's worth it, isn't it?”
“Yes,” she squeaks, reaching down to cup my crotch through my pants. I let her fondle my flaccid dick for a few moments before I pull away and start across the street with Clarice tottering behind me. “Lucas!” she babbles as she struggles to catch up.
“You're look stunning, as per usual,” I tell Audra, catching sight of the engagement ring still gleaming on her finger. After the fiasco with Robbie and her father, I wanted to see Audra more than ever. She's like the friend I never had, the one I could confess my darkness to. As soon as she smiles at me, I kiss her mouth hard, pushing back the sounds of Robbie pounding on my doors and windows, the gentle whisper of her sobs when I walked outside and pushed her away.
I can't have her. Not even if I want to. I have to face reality.
I've been living in a pseudo fantasyland ever since I got that kiss on the porch. It's not like me, and it has to stop. Tonight, I reclaim Lucas Carter, and I move on. I always thought that, perhaps, if I found a woman whose darkness rivaled my own that I could stop taking clients and blood to sate my demons, that I could wallow in her and she in me.