Chapter 10

Present day,
2010


Several hours had passed since I’d journeyed into my past, and now my head was buried in my washer as I wrestled with a sock wrapped around the bottom of the spindle. After a hell of a lot of tugging and some mighty hearty cuss words, the sock finally let loose, causing me to bang my head against the washer.

As I rubbed the tender spot, I glared at the offending sock, almost tempted to toss the damn thing in the trash, however, as it was still in good condition, so I stuffed back the inclination and threw it in the dryer with its mate.

After slamming the dryer door shut, I set the timer and started it. Afterward, I shoved the soiled sheets and a few towels into the washer, starting it to run as well.

Six hours, several cups of coffee, and a brand new start on a painting, as well as supporting a huge, pounding headache, I came up for air after finishing the last stroke of my paintbrush.

Stretching my neck, I began to rock my head from side to side, working to ease the stiffness of tight muscles, then turning, I made my way to my bedroom where I started my preparations for my night out with Leighton.

An hour later, I stood outside a popular nightclub, waving a flier in front of my face, trying in vain to cool the stifling summer evening as we waited in line. I couldn’t help but think the two of us, as well as everyone else standing in line, must have lost our damn minds. Jesus, I mean, what sane person would be out in this heat in the pursuit of entertainment?

I’d been considering asking Leighton about just skipping the club, when the line finally began to move.

Freed from the night’s crushing humidity at last, we entered within its air-conditioned interior, and I let out a relieved sigh at the blast of frigid air that slammed into my overheated flesh.

Glancing toward the restrooms, I debated about fighting the crowd of women already in line and waiting to enter, but after only a few minutes of hesitation, I decided the fight was necessary. My bladder was setting up quite a whining fest.

Tugging on Leighton’s arm, I relayed my intentions, then shooed him off with a waving motion, muttering for him to find the others as he hesitated.

The wait for the restroom didn’t take as long as I’d expected, and I was soon working my way back through the crowd towards the bar. There, I stood in line to get close enough to tell the bartender what I needed.

After an interminable amount of time, I received my drink, and turning, I began the arduous task of making my way back through the mass of bodies. I drew up short, however, when a beefy, greasy, long-haired man stepped before me, barring any further movement as he leered down in my direction.

I tried politely to step around him, but he seemed unwilling to get the hint I wasn’t interested. Once again he blocked my path, a laugh rumbling up within his massive chest as he did so.

Belatedly, I realized things were going to turn nasty in a hurry if I didn’t acknowledge him in some manner. So, peering up at him, I asked, “Do I know you?”

With a leer at me, he murmured, “Not yet, sweet thing.”

A sensation of disgust skated through my stomach, and I breathed, “I’m… I’m here with friends—” However, my words choked to a stop as the man suddenly reached out and gripped my arm, prepared it seemed, to force me to follow.

Opening my mouth, and preparing to give lift-off to the scream that was throttling up inside me, I was saved from the effort when a low, hoarse growl came from behind me, and an arm flashed out , grasping the man’s wrist.

I watched the muscles within the within the arm of the man behind me, flex as they gave a warning squeeze to my assailant’s wrist, and in a voice low, but steely, my rescuer hissed, “It would best if you released the lady, because nothing would suit me better than to rip your goddamn throat out right now.”

Shaking off my protector’s grip, the man muttered something under his breath about minding your own damn business, but released his hold on my arm as he tossed an angry glance at the man behind me. Afterward, returning his beady eyes in my direction, he drawled, “See ya around sweet thing.”

As he peered behind me again, the smirk on Greasy’s face slipped, and his eyes widened as his face paled, then, swallowing audibly, he jerked around and hurried off: burying himself within the crowd.

“Thank you, he just wouldn’t…” I began as I turned towards my rescuer, but my words stuttered to a stop. Shock rocketing through my system as I stared at the back of the man’s disappearing figure.

Shock, anger, and confusion swamped through me as I stared at the shoulders on the departing figure. The breadth of the shoulders and his build reminded me so much of Declan's, that I called out his name. When the stranger never paused, I began shoving and pushing at those in my way, chasing after him.

When I became tangled within a cluster of people that stubbornly wouldn’t move, an ugly sound escaped me at having lost sight of the man. With cuss words flying out of my mouth like an angry sailor, I finally managed to disentangle myself from the mass of bodies, and after another fifteen minutes of looking for the man, I decided that maybe I’d been mistaken.

A deep sense of disappointment washed over me and after a few grumbled words, I began looking for Leighton and our friends, instead.

When I finally spotted their table, I began working my way through the crowd in their direction. As I arrived, it didn’t escape my notice that whatever conversation Leighton and Brielle Everleigh—my best friend since she’d been placed in the orphanage shortly before I’d found a home with the Guchereau—as well, Gael Durand and Zenni Monet had been having, came to an abrupt end upon my arrival. What in the world? I couldn’t help thinking, as Leighton, eyes locking with mine, gazed pensively at my pale features before his own shifted into a frown, as standing, he pulled a chair out for me.

Plopping down in it, I was startled when Leighton dropped a hand on my shoulder as bending over so I could hear, he asked, “What’s up, Ry?”

Tears filling my eyes at the childhood nickname, I felt myself deflate, but tried my best to shrug off the pain before I replied, “I… uh…” Then shaking my head, as throat growing tight with emotions, I breathed, “I thought—”

After a few more starts and stops, I gave up forming the words that would explain me having another vision of Declan, as Leighton’s reactions to the other times I’d seen Declan was anger, so instead, I muttered, “It’s nothing, Leigh.”

Immediately, Leighton’s features changed, becoming suspicious, and I knew I’d only heightened his concern

Finally, and without calling me out on it, Leighton shrugged, then shaking his head, he shot a final glance at me before re-seating himself, and returning his attention to the others. After a quick glance among themselves, all four resumed talking, but I had the odd sensation it wasn’t the same conversation which had been taking place before my arrival.

Minutes passed, and I tried to pay attention to what was being said, but my mind begun to wander, and I gave a startled yelp when leaning over toward my chair, Leighton hissed, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Flushing beneath the onslaught of eyes once again trained in my direction, I muttered, “I’m fine… just a little… distracted I guess.”

Leighton nodded, but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, and crossing his arms over his chest, he stared in my direction.

As he continued gazing at me, I squirmed a little under his too-blue gaze, before finally releasing me from his stare, he looked toward the woman approaching him.

After Leighton had accepted her offer to dance, I watched as he, the woman, as well Gael and Zenni, all trooped out to the dance floor.

Closing my eyes, I drew in a breath of solitude, something my nerves were needing as I tried to collect my thoughts. However, I soon found my peace shattered when appearing before me, and startling me into opening my eyes, Brielle grabbed my hands and pulled me out onto the dance floor.

Within minutes the music began winding its way through me, weaving its spell around me and wiping my mind as usual—I’d never figured out the near narcotic state that came over me when I danced—but under its persuasion, I began swaying my body with abandonment, my movements fluid and sensual as I lost myself in a world of sensation. However, unlike every other time I’d been enchanted with musics’ call, another sensation—one impossible to resist—had my eyes opening, where after a quick survey of those standing and watching the dancers on the floor, my eyes locked onto a silver pair.

Declan, propped against a wall, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest, stared at me, his gaze focused and unwavering as he smirked at me.

My own lips curled in response, and I took a step in his direction, unaware of anyone or anything around me as I was drawn in his direction.

Before I'd taken ten steps, Leighton appeared in front of me, stopping any further progress, as he murmured, “The others are calling it a night, I think it’s time we do the same.”

With a frown pulling my lips down, I peered around Leighton, looking to where I’d last seen Declan, only to realize he’d once again disappeared. *Well, just fuck*!