The Husband Beside Me (The Devil Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

“I like a girl who knows her way around a good sausage,” Daimon laughed. I couldn’t help, but laugh at little. Not to make him feel like he had gotten to me, I continued our walk.

“You went at it like you needed it,” Daimon continued. “Damn, Addie, I wonder how you’re going to suck me off,” Daimon smirked; his comment stopped me in my tracks.

“If I could, I would slap you every single day we are married,” I stated.

“Who knows, Addie, I might like that. That kind of hot foreplay might just do it for me.” He smiled from ear-to-ear.

“You seriously have no idea how to talk to a woman. How the hell did you ever get one?” It was a serious question. His smart-mouth, inappropriate comments were all that seemed to come out of his mouth.

“Easy. Money, not to mention, my devilishly handsome looks and this awesome body,” he grinned.

“You’re impossible.”

“I try. Come on. I have somewhere else I want to take you.” He nudged his head toward the town car that was now parked near us.

“See? I didn’t pull you this time.”

Daimon opened the car door for me, but I bit my tongue not to say thank you.

“What, no thanks? You told Charlie thank you.”

“You told me not to,” I shrugged.

We drove for about twenty minutes and then stopped in front of an old-looking townhouse.

Daimon helped me out of the car and led me down the steps to a black door. Underneath the light was a golden plaque that read:

THE RAINES LAW ROOM

Please ring the bell

Someone will attend to you

Daimon rang the bell and someone came shortly afterwards.

“Mr. Evans, come this way, your usual spot has been reserved. You may head to the back of the bar,” said a man who was dressed in old-school bartender getup as he extended his hand.

“Thank you,” Daimon said, taking my hand as he led me through this wondrous place.

Dark wood and numerous chesterfield couches lined the front room. My eyes wandered around finding various people sitting down, in quiet corners, enjoying elegant-looking drinks. We passed a kitchen area, which housed all the mixologists and their tools and finally reached what they called The Parlor. Dark purple suede couches were positioned in front of each other, creating private areas with long velvet curtains that can be drawn back for more privacy. Daimon took me to the last compartment area and sat me down. Once he did, a waiter came in with a platter of various small appetizers. Blackberries, olives along with grapes, and chocolates lay before us. The waiter nodded as he walked away.

“I guess you come here often,” I said, looking around.

“With Rafe and Darren. Not so much with Darren right now,” Daimon explained as he leaned back watching me. I took off my coat and sat more comfortably in my seat. I saw the menu which was to the side of us and picked it up.

“You’re paying, right?” I asked, smiling at him.

“Don’t I always?”

“Just making sure.”

“Are you ready?” The waiter who had previously served us came right back.

“Yes. I’ll have my usual. My wife will have…” Daimon waited.

“The Glenmorangie, neat.”

“Very good choice,” the waiter said, and then left to get our drinks.

“Why did you want to bring me here? This obviously is your place. Why would you want to associate me with it?” I never understood Daimon’s thought process or why he behaved the way he did.

“It’s where I like coming to have a good drink with good company,” he said.

“Don’t you like going to Darren’s?”

“Not really. I only went because I knew you were working there,” he said, watching me carefully.

“But Darren’s your friend. Why wouldn’t you want to go there?”

“Darren was my friend and I don’t like having to feel indebted every time I walked in there. Darren never once took my money and I hated that.”

The waiter came back with our drinks and placed it on the small table that jutted out of the wall. Once he was done, he pulled back the curtain and we were left isolated from the rest of the speakeasy.

“I need to make things right with him. I just don’t know how,” I said as I picked up my drink.

“You don’t.” Daimon lifted his glass and raised it to me before he drank his scotch.

“I can’t do that, not after everything he’s done for me.” Taking my first sip of whiskey, spicy notes and a minty finish was exactly what I was looking for in a good whiskey.

“Darren wants you and I don’t fucking share.” Daimon put his glass down and scowled.

“But you think I do. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what you think. A deal is a deal. Don’t let what I did a few days ago interfere in your little trysts. Just as long as I don’t see them, I won’t care.” I looked at Daimon angrily. My words did not match the face I had put on.

“I told you already, that I wouldn’t. Believe me if you want, I don’t care, but the one thing I do care about is you seeing Darren. I forbid it.” Daimon stared at me with icy blue eyes.

“You forbid it? Daimon you can’t control everything about me.”

“I can try.”

“I feel sorry for you if you think that actually works.” I picked up my drink and took a sip.

“With most women it does.” He continued to stare at me as he sat across from me. I could feel the intensity of his body as he moved from his seat and sat next to me.

“Well, I’m not most women,” I said, ignoring his presence that was towering over me. “Promise me, you won’t see Darren.” He peered down at me.

“I can’t promise that. Unlike you, who I have no faith in, you should at least have some faith in me. All I want to do is talk to him. Iron things out,” I admitted.

It was true; seeing Darren the way he was at the wedding broke my heart. He was always there for me, but it was my fault for not seeing how much I had hurt him. I needed to at least make it better somehow.

“You are so frustrating. Why can’t you just sit at home and spend my money? Who cares about Darren and how he feels?”

“This isn’t about me. This is about you and that woman from the wedding. Who was she?”

“Nobody.” Daimon went cold and rigid as he moved away from me and picked up his drink, finishing it off.

“Why can’t you just let me in?” I asked, hurt that he kept skirting the issue.

“You’re one to talk. You hardly ever talk about you and your life,” Daimon turned it on me.

“Fine. Ask me. Ask me anything.” I regretted my words the moment I said them, but I knew it may be the only way Daimon could start talking.

“Your mother, what exactly happened?” he asked, gauging if he pushed too far. I picked up my drink and took yet another swig.

“I begged her to make a special dinner for me. I know it sounds stupid, but we never had the time or the money to do that. I wanted that day to be about me and how hard I worked, not only in school, but at the diner too. I wanted my day. I kept pushing her, telling her it wasn’t fair. She even got into an argument with me the day before when she finally relented, saying I was ungrateful, but like a stupid teenager, I didn’t care, as long as I got what I wanted. She left the diner early that day and went and bought all the things I had begged for. I arrived home early enough to wash off the shitty water you spilled all over me and began to get ready for my little party. The hours kept passing yet she didn’t come home.” I stopped and drank again. I could feel my throat burn, the words aching as I spoke them. “It was a hit and run. I know I didn’t outright kill her. I’m not that delusional to think that, but I still feel responsible for her death. I was exactly what my mother said I was: an ungrateful child. My greed killed her.” I cried silent tears, each of them gradually falling down my cheek. “Well, there you have it.”

“You didn’t—” Daimon started, but I held up my hand.

“Don’t,” I sobbed quietly.

Daimon sat, silenced by my story. He waited, but finally broke the stillness that befell us.

“You know I wasn’t the one who did that to you that day,” he noted

“Of course it was,” I shrugged. “You always did stupid, crappy things to me throughout high school.”

“I was just teasing you,” he hissed.

“That was teasing? You call pushing me into the school’s pool with my uniform teasing, or dropping the cafeteria food all over me, that was teasing?” I was totally taken aback.

“I was just fucking around with you,” he said, taking the last of his drink.

“Fucking around?” I repeated.

“Do you have any idea what ‘your special attention’ did to me throughout high school?” I questioned, but seeing the confusion on his face told me he had no clue.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Forget it. It’s not even worth bringing up.” I leaned far back into my seat to gain distance.
How could I feel anything remotely for him after everything he’s done to me? I seriously must have issues.

“Addie, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked curtly.

“I don't want to talk about it,” I said flatly. Daimon grimaced and stood up.

“It’s time to go home. Now,” he said forcefully and walked out, leaving me in his booth alone.

It was our usual habit of there being silence on the drive home after a night of Addie and Daimon’s one-on-one. We were constantly butting heads and that night was no different. We both did the same thing when things didn’t go exactly our way. We shut down completely. Daimon even woke up early that morning and left without even talking to me. I didn’t understand why he was upset; he admitted he was the one teasing me. High school was atrocious; every day I suffered someone’s wrath. Whenever Daimon pissed someone off, they came right at me, thinking I was the way to get at him. I refused to get involved and I tried hard to just focus on my future, but that was all taken away.

I walked Drako and ate a normal breakfast. I hadn’t realized Daimon was keeping an eye on my eating habits.

I figured I’d head out to see Darren, and depending how it went, I would then go to my father’s. I dressed up in a stunning black pencil skirt, with a white fitted button-down shirt. I’d always wanted a skirt like this, but could never afford it. It felt nice to have such expensive clothes. I was never going to tell Daimon; I would never live it down. Plus a big part of me felt guilty for having it all.

Phil called a cab for me. I wasn’t dumb enough to take the town car that Daimon had assigned to me. I asked the cabby to drive me down to Darren’s bar. My stomach drop at the thought of seeing him. I felt horrid that things were the way they were.

Finally making it to the bar, I stood out front, my nerves getting the better of me. It was really early and the bar only opened up at seven, but I knew that on Wednesdays Darren was there from noon to take inventory. I walked up to the door and opened it. He never locked it when he was here. I didn’t understand why. Arcade Fire’s “We Exist” was playing over the speakers while Darren was sitting at the bar with his back to me.

“You know you should seriously lock that door,” I said over the music.

Darren stopped what he was doing and looked up from his paperwork. He didn’t turn around to look at me; instead, he stood up from the barstool and went around the bar to get a lowball glass. Pouring me a whisky, he then placed it on the bar in front of the stool next to him. He finally looked my way and pointed to the glass.

“I don't like locking it,” he said, eyeing me cautiously.

“You should,” I said. “If not, any kind of riff raff would be able to come in here,” I smiled as I sat down.

“You look good,” he smiled gently.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. “Darren—”

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, still smiling.

“But I do. At least let me apologize,” I said ruefully.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t see it or stop it. I led you on. I took advantage of our friendship.” I bit my lower lip ashamed at myself.

“Addie, I fell for you, not because you forced it. It came naturally,” he admitted, taking his glass and drinking. “I just wished it wasn’t Daimon, but me. I wish I had the balls to tell you sooner. Instead, I let Frank take advantage of you and let Daimon bully you. You honestly think I felt worthy after that? It didn’t bother me to see you date him because I thought for sure he’d fuck it up somehow.”

“Darren, you were there when my mother passed. You helped me decide about Yale. You were there for me from the beginning and never once did I notice. I’m sorry,” I nearly cried.

“Don’t be,” he said quietly as he looked at me. A long moment passed between us, neither one of us saying anything.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Daimon yelled loud enough that it rang through the whole of Darren’s bar.

“You’re right, Addie, I should lock up. It does seem like any asshole can come in here.” Darren squared off as he stood up.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Daimon asked loudly, his voice steel.

“Did you have me followed?” I accused him, jumping off my seat.