brother-in-law could definitely wait.
She wished she had Darus' number so she could at least send him a thank you text. Even if she'd already verbalized it, she wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated everything he'd done for her tonight. No matter what his motives might be.
* * * *
The first thing Darus did when he hit the sidewalk was pull out a cigarette and smoke it to the filter. For a second he considered tracking down Chris and beating his ass. But he'd never been much of a fighter, and given Chris was piss drunk and stupid angry, Darus was pretty sure he'd be the one who ended up in the hospital—and then probably jail. And Chris would still be walking the streets.
So swallowing what was left of his pride, he headed for Luxure instead. Just as he hoped, Detective Kevin McCoy was sitting at a table across from Angel. He slipped into an empty seat next to him.
Angel stared at him in horror. "What happened to your face?"
"Clare's ex. Lovely man."
"He's here in New Orleans?" Kevin asked.
"It seems so. Hey, I'm a little worried for Clare. Is there any way to file a restraining order on her behalf? She didn't seem to want to deal with it tonight and I'm afraid if it doesn't happen now, she'll just blow if off. And the only reason I got this," he pointed his index finger at his bruised noggin', "is because I intercepted Chris' fist as it headed for her face."
"Unfortunately, no. She has to do it."
"Fuck. That's what I was afraid of."
"You can press charges…"
"Even though his attack wasn't directed at me?"
"How'd your forehead get split open?"
"He headbutted me. I had him pinned, though. And he left with a broken hand."
Kevin shrugged. "You can still press charges."
"My parole officer would kill me. This is exactly the shit I'm supposed to avoid."
"It's up to you…"
"No, no. Of course I'll do it. I was just thinking out loud." He knew he was risking jail, but also knew it didn't matter. If pressing charges against that dick Chris put him in jail for a few days until Clare could sort things out, Darus would happily join him. Maybe they'd even be cellmates. Wouldn't that be swell. "I'm not good with this cop shit. You mind calling…?"
Kevin already had his phone out and was dialing. That answered that.
Mentally prepping himself to speak with the police, Darus caught a glimpse of Angel beaming at him like a proud mother. Before she could open her mouth to praise him for his good karma or some bullshit, he turned away.
Afraid his sudden feelings of selflessness were a fluke, he went to the bar and ordered a drink. He needed one anyway if he was going to deal with Johnny Law.
* * * *
Julia stared in the direction Clare had just skulked off like a petulant teenage. She turned to Armand. "Can you believe it?"
"No." He tossed the bag of edamame into the trash.
Feeling somewhat dazed, Julia sat on the couch, her purse falling limply onto the floor. Clare and Darus… It was…horrifying.
Armand joined her with two glasses of wine. Taking one, she smiled gratefully at him. "You need one too?" She nodded toward his glass.
"Maybe even more than you." He held the glass out in an invitation to "toast" and after she touched her glass to his, they both took a drink.
She sank into the couch cushions and he followed her. "What are we going to do?" she wondered.
"Strangling him probably isn't an option, is it?"
"Not unless you can guarantee you won't get arrested."
"What about Clare?"
"I'd rather not strangle her."
"Can we lock her in her room? Only until Darus loses interest…"
"Now, that's an option."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. All Julia could think about was Clare's hand in Darus' and them staring at each other all lovey-dovey like. It was making her want to puke.
"What is that?" Setting his glass on the coffee table, Armand rose and went to the window. The shutters were open and when he pushed the curtains aside, she saw what he had. Police lights, right
She wished she had Darus' number so she could at least send him a thank you text. Even if she'd already verbalized it, she wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated everything he'd done for her tonight. No matter what his motives might be.
* * * *
The first thing Darus did when he hit the sidewalk was pull out a cigarette and smoke it to the filter. For a second he considered tracking down Chris and beating his ass. But he'd never been much of a fighter, and given Chris was piss drunk and stupid angry, Darus was pretty sure he'd be the one who ended up in the hospital—and then probably jail. And Chris would still be walking the streets.
So swallowing what was left of his pride, he headed for Luxure instead. Just as he hoped, Detective Kevin McCoy was sitting at a table across from Angel. He slipped into an empty seat next to him.
Angel stared at him in horror. "What happened to your face?"
"Clare's ex. Lovely man."
"He's here in New Orleans?" Kevin asked.
"It seems so. Hey, I'm a little worried for Clare. Is there any way to file a restraining order on her behalf? She didn't seem to want to deal with it tonight and I'm afraid if it doesn't happen now, she'll just blow if off. And the only reason I got this," he pointed his index finger at his bruised noggin', "is because I intercepted Chris' fist as it headed for her face."
"Unfortunately, no. She has to do it."
"Fuck. That's what I was afraid of."
"You can press charges…"
"Even though his attack wasn't directed at me?"
"How'd your forehead get split open?"
"He headbutted me. I had him pinned, though. And he left with a broken hand."
Kevin shrugged. "You can still press charges."
"My parole officer would kill me. This is exactly the shit I'm supposed to avoid."
"It's up to you…"
"No, no. Of course I'll do it. I was just thinking out loud." He knew he was risking jail, but also knew it didn't matter. If pressing charges against that dick Chris put him in jail for a few days until Clare could sort things out, Darus would happily join him. Maybe they'd even be cellmates. Wouldn't that be swell. "I'm not good with this cop shit. You mind calling…?"
Kevin already had his phone out and was dialing. That answered that.
Mentally prepping himself to speak with the police, Darus caught a glimpse of Angel beaming at him like a proud mother. Before she could open her mouth to praise him for his good karma or some bullshit, he turned away.
Afraid his sudden feelings of selflessness were a fluke, he went to the bar and ordered a drink. He needed one anyway if he was going to deal with Johnny Law.
* * * *
Julia stared in the direction Clare had just skulked off like a petulant teenage. She turned to Armand. "Can you believe it?"
"No." He tossed the bag of edamame into the trash.
Feeling somewhat dazed, Julia sat on the couch, her purse falling limply onto the floor. Clare and Darus… It was…horrifying.
Armand joined her with two glasses of wine. Taking one, she smiled gratefully at him. "You need one too?" She nodded toward his glass.
"Maybe even more than you." He held the glass out in an invitation to "toast" and after she touched her glass to his, they both took a drink.
She sank into the couch cushions and he followed her. "What are we going to do?" she wondered.
"Strangling him probably isn't an option, is it?"
"Not unless you can guarantee you won't get arrested."
"What about Clare?"
"I'd rather not strangle her."
"Can we lock her in her room? Only until Darus loses interest…"
"Now, that's an option."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. All Julia could think about was Clare's hand in Darus' and them staring at each other all lovey-dovey like. It was making her want to puke.
"What is that?" Setting his glass on the coffee table, Armand rose and went to the window. The shutters were open and when he pushed the curtains aside, she saw what he had. Police lights, right
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